Page 3 of The Daughter of the Devil

“I’m fine, pet. Just tired is all. Now, go.” I order, feeling myself starting to get annoyed when he hesitates a second longer before going to the side of my bed and standing up. He turns back to check on me again which has me rolling my eyes. “Alistair, you know I hate repeating myself.” I state in place of ordering him to leave. Honestly, if I say I’m fine, then I’m fine. This is exactly why I didn't tell him about the pain on my now healed chest. He’s an overprotective and overbearing servant. I sigh as a sign of annoyance when I see him walking away towards my door. I try to swallow to quench the dryness in my throat but it did very little to satisfy my thirst. Itching for a drink I sit up again and snap my fingers, summoning my cup with red wine to drink. I furrow my brow as nothing appears in my hand. I try again but nothing materializes.

I start snapping my fingers furiously and waving my wrist in the air but nothing is working. My breath catches in my throat as I keep trying to no avail. Trying to use my telekinesis, I attempt to pull my other pillow to my right to my hand as a test but when the pillow didn't move I let out a grunt in frustration. I finally notice Alistair stopped frozen at the door. “What’s wrong, my lady?”

“My powers, they’re gone.”

When your kid loses powers they have had their entire lives one would think Lucifer would be more concerned. Yet here he is, my father, withered in boisterous laughter on his throne, Alistair calmly kneeling at my side. “Will you stop laughing already and fix it? It’s not funny.” I sound as irritated as I feel. Dad seems to laugh harder at my statement but to his credit he did compose himself enough to sit up straight and look at me with a big smile still on his face.

“Come one, Morgui. It’s a little amusing.” When I don't reply with anything other than a cold stare he relents. “All right, I won't laugh anymore. But now that you mentioned the dagger everything is making sense.” He states while sobering up.

“What makes sense? You found it?” I ask.

“No, but I know what it is. It’s the Dagger of Amon, a dagger cursed by Chaos magic. We have been using it for centuries to turn mortals' souls into demons. It was locked in the vault but it recently went missing. We’ve been searching for it and now we know someone has been using it. And that they most likely still have it after attacking you, since it is also enchanted to return to the last user who casts it into a soul. I didn't know it could be used to turn Anggels into mortals though.”

“What? You’re kidding, right?!” I feel anger and disgust boiling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of being a full human with no powers. Mortals are puny and weak, they barely last to 100-years of age, and they break easily.

“No, I’m serious. That was the initial purpose but I suppose the inverse is not too out of the scope of possibilities.”

“That is disgusting dad. I can’t stay like this. When can you change me back?” I ask, desperately rejecting the idea.

“I can’t, the dagger works with Chaos magic. It's not easily reversible. But look at the positives, you’ll be safe and now you can be a regular human young adult. No worrying about Hell or any of the work that comes with it.”

“I don't want to be a regular human, dad. You have to fix this.” I shoot back, scowling furiously. I only ever wanted to work with my father in his kingdom and now this changes everything. I have to find a way to change my soul back.

“I’m afraid I can’t, Morgana. You have a human soul now, you must live among them now for your protection. You can’t stay here permanently if you’re a human. It’ll be better if you live in the mortal realm.” Dad states confidently before getting up from this throne and striding towards me.

“Dad, I don't-,” I go to argue but he cuts me off.

“I made my decision, Morgana and that’s final. I will take care of the arrangements. You won't have to worry about a thing.” He declares confidently, setting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

4

A Special Place

Morgana

And here I thought I lived in Hell everyday…

The dread I feel staring at the entrance of the sad red and white facade of Middlebury Valley High School is what I imagine mortals feel when they think of Hell. The only difference is that their average day-to-day existence is my personal hell. Losing my powers, being forced to live among mortals since my soul was changed, and now having to come here. I almost prefer to go to the dungeons as a damned soul; it would be less painful than this.

I sigh, taking in the steady stream of teenagers going into the building. Most of them are staring and whispering to their friends, likely about me since they won't stop pointing. I already feel the irritation boiling inside me at the thought of having to interact with these insects for the equivalent of two mortal years. But at least I’m not alone in my suffering.

The building's exterior looks as tired and defeated as I feel. The paint is peeling, and the once vibrant red and white have faded to a dull, lifeless hue. The front lawn is overgrown, and the sign bearing the school's name is missing letters. I can't help but feel a pang of contempt for this place and everything it represents. My heart pounds with a mix of anger and resignation, knowing that this is my new reality.

I look over my shoulder, and off to my right is my ever-faithful pet, Alistair. Now rid of his demonic features like me, though his was by choice. He looks strange, still just as tall and pale as before, but now he just looks like a healthy pale, tall mortal instead of the towering paper-white demon he actually is. Height and skin tone are not the only changes he modified. He hid his horns and changed his blood-red eyes for a startling amber. The dark mop of curls passing for his hair is still present, but the piercings and tattoos are all gone except for two sets of piercings on his earlobes, allowing him to blend in with the young humans.

Such a shame; I really liked how he looked with them, but he looks good disguised as a human as well. At least he still has two piercings left. Instead of his usual earrings, he swapped the remaining two for a pair of titanium studs that resemble the precious diamonds humans value so much. A value given to rocks that hold no real magical powers—I will never understand the reasoning.

Humans really are mindless insects. They’re cowardly and pathetic, and I can’t help resenting my father’s decision to send me to this place. A decision I knew I couldn't change, though that didn't stop me from trying. When my father makes a decision, very little can persuade him to change his mind. Hence why the phrase ‘stubborn as the devil himself’ came to be back home. A stubbornness I can't help but dislike at the moment since it got me into this situation.

I am not only expected to interact with the mortals but also to live the rest of my natural lifetime among them since I am no longer immortal. I discovered my healing abilities vanished shortly after waking up, and my immortality went with them. I found out by throwing a glass cup at my bedroom wall out of frustration when my father revealed his plan. After coming back from meeting with him, I served myself some wine from the bottle Alistair left on my bedroom desk, seeing as I can’t conjure anymore. When I tasted the human blood, I recoiled at the fact I didn't like it anymore. My taste for blood has quite literally vanished. This fact, coupled with my argument with my father, had me infuriated. In a fit of rage, I threw the cup at the wall, shattering it. A glass fragment ricocheted and scratched my cheek, a dribble of blood lining the left side of my face.

I paid no mind to it, believing it would heal on its own but when a few minutes passed and it was still there I called for Alistair. He healed me with his own powers, not something I thought I would ever need but was glad I still had, for now at least. Later on, when I was getting ready to come to the mortal realm and live in Los Angeles as our cover story indicated, I asked why Alistair is going if he still is a demon. Clearly my father ordered him to do so, otherwise why else would be bother to be here. And as much as I'm opposed to the plan, I can’t complain about Alistair being with me, even though I still don't truly understand it, for it means that I know someone and that he is here to attend to me just like always. In that regard, one thing remained the same.

Releasing a final sigh of frustration, I silently hand my book bag to Alistair to carry and start making my way toward the main entrance of the school. Once inside the main hall, I search for the administrative office among the sweaty, disgusting packs of human prepubescents. Locating my objective, I head there to acquire the necessary information for our first day at school, as instructed by my father, who knows far more about the way humans built their education systems in his millions of years watching them than I could ever hope to know at my measly 17 years of age. After obtaining the needed information, such as our schedule, classrooms, and locker numbers, we head to the main hall again to try and locate our lockers.

We take a wrong turn, not knowing which way to go to find the correct set of lockers since they are arranged in a strange manner. Instead of numerically, the lockers are organized with numbers and letters. This confuses me as I can't determine the direction in which the numbers run. While we search, I notice we walk past a group of girls huddled against some lockers, chatting. One spots us walking and signals to the rest, making them all quiet down as we pass by. They are all staring now, much like others, but these girls are dressed in cheerleading uniforms, blatantly making eye contact with me when I take one last glance at them.

Just as I am about to take a different hallway to continue our search, I feel Alistair tense beside me a second before I see someone fall into step with us to my left. It's one of the cheerleaders, a blonde with blue eyes, long eyelashes, and lips colored with a gloss that shines under the blinding neon school lights. She smiles at me, a smile that reminds me of a demon happy to go to work in the dungeons and play with their prey.

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