The Chadeleya household accommodated five demons at the entrance. Next to the door, shoes were placed, and the wardrobe was shut. The three demons who had arrived were allowed to take off some of their additional clothing, such as jackets, and hang it on the rack next to the drawer beside the door. That was all, however; they were told to stand where they were.

Mr. and Mrs. Chadeleya glanced at the three Demons with an attitude that insinuated their displeasure.

Mr. Chadeleya was a well-built man. He had wide shoulders, a strong build that outlined his muscles, and a ginger beard around his mouth all the way to his chin. His eyes were dark hazel brown. He had stout hair covering his forehead partially and his upper head. Short, sharp red horns were sticking out of his hair because of his Demonian pride. His nape was bare. A long, permanent scar as a straight line was visible under his left arm, reaching from below his wrist until his elbow. He had the clothing of a commoner made of cheap rags that looked extravagant, nonetheless. His clothes were not intentionally chosen to be wider than the body, there so did not conceal the body shape. It was clear from an outside view he was not overweight, but his waist was not slim. His torso had no curve from the armpit area to the crotch area where the legs and torso were connected through the waist. His chest was smooth aside from body hair and the belly button. Judging from the muscles on his arms his clothing did not hide, one could deduce he must have had sturdy abdominal muscles.

Mrs. Chadeleya was reminiscent of her daughter. Her hair colour was familiar, a saturated undertone of violet. Her straight, well-combed hair was nowhere near as long as her daughter’s, reaching up to her back halfway through. Two horns stuck out from her hair at opposite ends on top of her head. These horns curled upward, the one on her left clockwise whereas the opposite one curled counterclockwise. With patterns of sanguine, her horns were black, with the sanguine patterns seemed as if they were tattoos and out of place, even though they were biological. Because of the shape, size, and unique attributes of her horns, she found it a tedious task to hide them like most Demons do, even though she had no pride in drawing attention to them. Furthermore, the short form she had to tidy her hair into in order to completely hide the horns was something she disliked, which is why she almost always had them on display. Her figure was svelte, but her bosom was larger than her daughter’s. She wore a bland shirt and baggy undergarments that concealed her figure beneath. She had an apron on that covered from her neck level to her tarsus. The apron was white with black text that read “I ❤️ Cooking”. The text was in Demonian aside from the red heart. 

“Where were you?” Mr. Chadeleya asked, shattering the silence. His voice was commanding. “You said you would be back by night.”

“Well, it is almost nighttime…”

“A day later,” Mr. Chadeleya refuted firmly.

“I made new friends…?” Kristine defended herself.

“You have the audacity to disappear for two days continuously and come back with not one, but two men?” She specifically pointed at Jimothan and his characteristic smugness. “And you still seek forgiveness?” 

“Mom!” she screeched, clinging onto her mother’s hand pointing at Jimothan. She gently lowered her mother’s finger. “They, too, fled the capital! They’re just like us, so doesn’t that make them esteemed guests?”

“I don’t see their parents anywhere,” Mr. Chadeleya rebuked. “How are they like us, exactly?”

“I think we are old enough to classify as adults now… Well, technically, at least.” Johnathan stuck his oar in.

Mr. Chadeleya turned to him slowly. “You are still clearly a child. You have not the eyes of a man.”

“I’m 20?” Johnathan asked hesitantly. “I don’t think I need my parents to travel anymore.”

“Either way, you’re guests. We can’t just leave you to freeze to death.” Mrs. Chadeleya sighed. “Come, I’ll prepare a bath.”

Kristine followed her mother, but her father grabbed her by the arm. “I’m not done with you.”

Kristine swallowed nervously.

The night was uneventful. Jimothan and Johnathan were prepared a bath first and Kristine bathed while they changed. Kristine was only instructed to take a bath. Cleaning and preparing tasks left for her. Mrs. Chadeleya refused to elaborate. 

Jimothan fell asleep instantaneously upon embracing the comfort of the hospitality. They were given semi-soft pillows, each with a giant wool blanket. 

The one downside was that the two brothers had to sleep together, even though the bed they were given was designed for a single person. Therefore, it was cramped.

Johnathan was uncomfortable with Jimothan’s lax attitude. He could sleep so soundly now with a comfortable bed, even though he was the one who accused Kristine of skullduggery. What could have changed, he pondered. Maybe it was the fatigue. He pondered and pondered and the sun had started rising before he acknowledged how long he had stared into the nothingness of the dark room.

He got up from the bed. He carefully jumped over Jimothan and successfully got up without disturbing him.

The room was slowly being enlightened by the sun’s light. The rays of sunshine shed light on the room he could not view clearly at night. First things first, the bed they slept in was in the upper leftmost corner of the room. The window was right next to the bed, thus the sunlight gleamed directly at the door as if shining a spotlight on it. Underneath the window, there was a nightstand with two drawers of similar size. Atop the nightstand was a yellow candle. The colour faded towards white the nearer it got to the top. There was a small bowl under the candle, presumably to use the candle as light during the night. There were no lighters or other objects that may be used to light the candle in Johnathan’s periphery, although he did not inspect the drawers of the nightstand.

In the upper rightmost corner of the room, there was a massive wardrobe. The wardrobe was made of a special type of wood that shined perfectly under the enlightenment of the sun. The wardrobe was light-brown whereas the handles were a darker hue.

There was a drawer chest on the right side of the entrance door of the bedroom according to one that is facing the window. This drawer chest had four rectangle-shaped drawers from the bottom towards the top. The fifth column was unalike the rest: instead of a singular drawer fulfilling the space created within the drawer chest to constitute a column, two drawers were more minuscule. These two drawers were of equal mass and were half the mass of the other four girthier drawers.

On the left side of the door, according to one facing the window, was a table. It had a chandelier on the corner of the table. There was an inkwell, although no pen was in view. There were a dozen papers stacked on top of each other. These were mass-produced, Cryptid papers. It was cheaply made and standardised in its nation of origin. There was a glass flagon that was full ¼ of how much it could take. It was water inside. There was a clay cup right next to it. It was as opaque as it got.

The closer he got to the door as he scrutinised the room, the more he smelled the odour wafting. As the butter slowly dissolved in the heat, the smell of butter in a pan persisted relentlessly. The scent slowly got thicker. It got so thick it was reminiscent of the aroma of butter underneath fried eggs.

Not long after the aroma of the butter had assaulted the noses of every Demon in the house, the scent of eggs followed thereupon. Just from the smell alone, it was simple to tell the eggs were not Cryptid-manufactured; it smelled natural and fresh.

Johnathan, on the other hand, was dubious about the properties of the meal, or maybe he was simply curious and there was no furtiveness in his actions.

 

He pulled the door and left it ajar. He peeked through the narrow gap he created to find the living room connected to the kitchen in the largest room of the house. 

Once entering the house, there was a small intersection to store items for going out, such as the rack where they hung their coats the previous day and the bijou wardrobe where they stored their shoes. Upon a few steps from this intersection, there was the living room. It was quite modern for Demonian standards with the leather sofas that were squeaky clean. Like the majority of household furniture, the round coffee table at the centre of the fastidiously placed sofas was wooden. This coffee table had not omitted similar characteristics to most other wooden furniture, however: it was heterogeneous in the juxtaposition that this coffee table was smooth-surfaced. The lack of craftsmanship detail on it implied it had not been handmade. It could have been a mass-produced model, which would have implied that the coffee table was imported from the Federation. Johnathan, however, was not in close proximity to trace his hands along the table’s surface to confirm for himself.

On the couch shaped like the letter L, Kristine was still sleeping. There was the fireplace still crackling against the wall. Kristine still did not let go of her blanket. She was facing the television as she slept. She had her left hand under her pillow as if hanging on for dear life. Her smile was bright, even as she slept; her right hand clutching the blanket would suggest she was fond of the warmth, even though it was possible to argue the blanket was unnecessary with the minor distance between the fireplace and the L couch.

Mr. Chadeleya sat on the other hand of the couch. He was looking just as grumpy as the day they met. There was a papyrus paper rolled on two stick-like objects. He had his left hand on top of the paper and he was grasping the lower stick with his right hand. To put his expression into words was toilsome, for he looked deep in thought. In principle, yes, he was grumpy, but he seemed to have stuff on his plate he wished not to discuss.

In contrast, Mrs. Chadeleya seemed full of energy early in the morning. She walked back and forth between the tight area consisting of kitchen counters, making up a kitchen-joint-living room. There was an electrical stove on top of the counter where she was cooking the egg which caused a heavy smell. An assortment of pans hung off the wall. There was a wooden box or irregular shape where long, sharp knives were stored. The compilation of drawers of varying sizes. Johnathan was spellbound, left agape, even, because Mrs. Chadeleya's movements were swift and succinct. She found every object she desired without mistake. Her clairvoyance in the kitchen was mesmerising.

“So, what do they say?” Mrs. Chadeleya asked haphazardly.

“They’re trying to summon me again,” Mr. Chadeleya answered from the living room as Kristine moaned with irk and turned around to face the couch. 

“They’re still on with that?” Mrs. Chadeleya laughed.

“I don’t understand, either. But it worries me,” he spoke thoughtfully, his eyes refusing to dart away from the papyrus scroll, “the Chief of Staff went out of his way to send this to me formally.”

“Chief of Staff? But you weren’t under his jurisdiction. Why would he wish to summon you?”

“No clue…” Mr. Chadeleya sighed. His flummoxed state was apparent from his face, even though he was as stoic as ever. “One thing I can tell, though, is that he thinks this is a subpoena, which must be why they bothered with the formalities this time around. But it is as you said, so it imposes no authority on me.”

“But then, why would they go out of their way?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Oh, could it be about the dearth of manpower post-war? Maybe that’s why they want you back in the first place?” Mrs. Chadeleya quipped as she placed the fried eggs on the plate and started the process once again, cooking another.

“Could be.”

Mr. Chadeleya closed the papyrus scroll diligently and placed it on the round table in the middle. As his eyes darted around with burden, his eyes and Johnathan’s met for a faint second.

“If it isn’t the Little Prince himself… Please, come sit.” Mr. Chadeleya spoke out. 

Johnathan felt obligated to comply, although he could already feel sweat on his forehead.