Father approaches me, with outstretched arms. “Met kimbat,” bellows the dual-tone, metallic voice of my parent, the single entity that gave me life. Though Their brow furrows at my appearance, I am hugged into an embrace. “Why do you still wear the skin of such miserable beings, and not the one with which you were born? You do not need to hide yourself here.”

“Their culture intrigues me, Father. I like the feeling of becoming totally immersed in it, even if it means that I wear this body at all times.”

“But it is not you,” Father says with ambivalence, stroking my golden hair with Their thick, sharp fingernails. “Why immerse yourself in a culture which has exiled us to this island, to live in secrecy until the end of times?” The hard, black nails caress my cheek. “I understand you need to Feed from them to become as formidable as I, but going to this extent is unhealthy. I do not want you to get harmed like last time.”

“Last time was difficult,” I recoil, fists clenched. “But maybe this time will be different. The people already look so diverse, so maybe I will be accepted within their ranks this time.”

They push away from me.

“A ‘white devil’ is still a ‘devil’ to them, Kimenohelani,” Father responds sternly. “When you are found out, you will be maimed, killed, or, even worse, taken away to be experimented on, like many before us. Being tortured is not an option for my brood, and you must accept that fact, even if it does harm your feelings. They are not to be trusted, at all costs.”

“But Father…” I fall upon my knees. “I saw a sign that they might be changing. An engraving of wings and an inscription that said ‘Kim’. Maybe there is at least one of us who is still living amongst humans. Maybe we can become integrated into society with a little push.”

Strong, broad hands grasp my shoulders as Father kneels down. “That could be a mere coincidence,” They mutter, “or that could be blatant appropriation. There is no guarantee that one of our kind has integrated into society. Now, have you Fed upon someone tonight? Your face may be flushed, but your eyes seem pale.”

“No… I did meet someone, but no, I did not Feed on them.”

“Met kimbat,” I am scolded, “you are an Incubus, you must Feed regularly or you will not be able to survive. Dying from self-starvation is far more foolish than dying from a Veremon’s hand, you know this.” They pause in thought. “I will give you a concubine for tonight, but do not starve yourself to exhaustion again, am I clear?”

“Why do we even need to Feed off of humans…” I trail off.

“We feed from their passions, Met kimbat. When young, we Feed from our clansmen. When older, we Feed by seducing the Veremon. Their passions far outweigh our own.” Father drapes an arm behind me and places Their warm, dry lips upon my forehead, transferring some of Their own energy into my body with a simple, paternal kiss.

When I perk up considerably, They continue. “When you become a Lith yourself, you can take on the vilest of Veremon and sap their passions dry. With that power, you can help lead Our People. Maybe your experiences will shape a better world for us, maybe they will not, but we will not see the extent of your potential if you allow yourself to die from not Feeding.”

“But what if I have no desire to lead,” I chime back in, “and would rather live my life as a wanderer until the end of times?” I am pulled back onto my feet. The crimson energy flutters violently in Father’s eyes. That, alone, was as good of an answer as any.

“If you wish to not lead,” They boom, “then you must bear a child and bring them to age before my demise.” Father’s large hand grasps my own tightly. “My bloodline shall not end because of your own rebellion. If I am to die and you are nowhere to be seen, you will become exiled by your own People. You will have no home to come back to if things with the Veremon turn south. You will have no one then.”

Dead air fills the room. I cannot say anything in retaliation, because I know for certain that Father is absolutely right. I can still recall the time I was exposed as a ‘devil’ in a town I stayed in for far too long. I can still hear the insults and slurs being shouted at me, from people I once thought were friends. Were I not spotted by cryptid hunters that one night, I wouldn’t have had to flee. Wouldn’t have worried Father short of death. Wouldn’t have been forced to stay isolated in Typhon’s Teeth, and shamefully guarded, for several months straight.

I am given a tight hug. “You should be good for a few days,” Father tells me, “but promise me that you will Feed tomorrow, concubine or otherwise, am I understood?” I nod, and They place Their head over my shoulder. “I will not lose another one of my children again. Not on my watch.” I am released, and Father saunters back over to Their bed, feathers less luminous than they initially were. “Tell Nikita to notify Lith Omlar that I will be late for our meeting. Family business had to be attended to.”

I nod and open the bedroom chamber once more, the twins still standing on each side of it and staring up at me. As I close the door behind me, the nymphs’ bodies relax. “Niki, kita,” I address them both. “Father would like you to tell Lith Omlar that They will be a few hours late to the meeting due to family matters.” I kneel down to them into a whisper. “If you would like, you can dress up in my room before you leave. It is far too cold out for you to travel there bare.”

I rise up onto my feet, and both Niki and Kita make their way up the stairs. I follow close behind them and think over the current state of affairs. Living alongside humans always has its own share of dangers, but what’s the point of living without risk? I will need to check out that gas station, just to sate my curiosity. It might be a dead end, but what if it isn’t? If there are Daemon living amongst the humans in harmony, I have to see it myself.

I walk down the hall and the twin nymphs meet me at the door, standing on each end of the doorframe like they do with Father. “You did not need to wait for me,” I tell them both, “I can open the door myself.” They nod and open the door for me regardless.

My room is the complete opposite of Father’s chambers. The wall across from the door is lined with windows, illuminating the room without any need for lights. My bed sits central to the windows, covered in a colorful quilt stitched for me by the humans who betrayed me long ago. Crystalline stalactites dot the rocky ceiling in a mess of different colors, and underneath is a hand-stitched tapestry that has been passed down for generations. To the right is a wall filled to the ends with bookshelves, carrying literature written by both humans and Daemon alike. Clothes hang on the wall across them, most of them being dress shirts and pants but with the occasional crop top and jeans. Underneath them sit my shoes, mostly boots of varying lengths and slides of varying types, in sectioned-off sets of open drawers.

I take out my clutch and remove the heels from within, placing them next to the other black boots I own. Niki and Kita walk in behind me, shutting the door securely, and as they scour through my clothes for what to wear, I fall back into my bed. Living in such a secluded part of the world feels so… lonely, even when I have everything this world has to offer.

I lift my head up to see the twins dressed in regal, albeit a bit baggy, clothing: blue tops on black leggings, and black pointed shoes as well. When they see my gaze, both bow deeply before leaving my room alongside each other, quietly closing the door behind themselves. I sit up from my bed and look outside the window, the ethereal glow waning as to signify the return of day. I pull off my blue sweater shirt over my shoulders, and as I strip away my black undershirt, my eyes look down at my bare chest full of faint pink scars. This is it.

I will not make the same mistake again.