The castle was quieter than usual that evening.
Which, in Demon King terms, meant "only mildly terrifying."
Ren sat on the balcony of his cell, technically more of a glorified pit with a window, staring out at the vast stretch of black mountains glowing faintly under a violet sky. The air was thick with sulfur and burnt magic, but after a week of being yelled at by a seven-foot supernatural tyrant, he found it oddly peaceful.
Arden stood near the doorway, polishing his sword in silence.
"Do you ever get tired of standing guard?" Ren asked.
"No," Arden said simply.
Ren sipped from a cracked mug of something that might've once been tea. "Right. Because demons don't have unions."
Arden's mouth twitched barely. "You make jokes even when you're afraid."
"That's how I stay alive," Ren said. "That, and sarcasm. Oh, and Arden the Emotional Support Knight. Can't forget that one."
The knight set the sword down, amusement ghosting his eyes. "You think I'm emotional support?"
"Of course," Ren said, waving a hand. "You patch me up. You keep me from being incinerated. You're like… a therapy dog with better cheekbones."
Arden gave him a long, flat look. "I'll pretend that was a compliment."
"It was," Ren said. "You're a very good boy."
That earned him the smallest huff of laughter, quickly smothered.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Ren felt something resembling calm. "You know," he said softly, "I think you might be the only sane person here."
"I'm not sure that's true," Arden replied. "I just learned when to stop talking."
Ren grinned faintly. "Teach me that trick sometime."
They fell into easy quiet, the kind of silence that didn't feel heavy, just shared.
Then Arden said, almost hesitantly, "You're brave."
Ren blinked. "Brave? No, no, I'm clinically anxious with excellent reflexes."
"I've seen men break faster than you," Arden said. "You keep facing him even when he hurts you."
Ren looked down at his bandaged wrist, the faint bruising where magic restraints had bit deep. "That's because he's my patient."
Arden raised an eyebrow. "And you actually believe you can heal him?"
Ren smiled faintly. "I have to. Otherwise I'd have to accept I'm just here to die."
Arden said nothing, but his expression softened. He reached out, hesitated, then brushed a strand of hair from Ren's face. His fingers were warm, careful, as though afraid Ren might break.
Ren froze. "...You're not going to stab me after this, are you?"
Arden chuckled lowly. "Only if you start diagnosing me."
"Deal," Ren said.
Unfortunately, peace doesn't last long in the Demon King's castle.
Because at that very moment, Varion was standing on the upper balcony of the throne hall, watching them through the magical mirrors that lined the walls like hungry eyes.
His reflection watched too and smiled.
"Interesting," it whispered.
"Shut up," Varion hissed.
"He laughs with the knight," the reflection murmured. "He doesn't laugh with you."
Varion's jaw clenched. "He's my healer. That's his job."
"Then why do you want him to stay when he's silent?"
The king's hand tightened on the railing. "Because—"
The reflection grinned. "Because you don't understand him. And that makes you weak."
Something inside Varion cracked.
A moment later, the walls trembled, torches flared, and half the castle woke to the sound of the king's fury shaking the heavens.
Ren was in the middle of explaining to Arden why he should consider "emotional intelligence workshops for generals" when the door exploded.
Literal fire. Shattered stone. The whole thing gone in a burst of smoke and pure overreaction.
Ren barely managed to duck as Varion strode through the wreckage, cloak trailing flames.
Arden immediately stepped in front of him, sword drawn. "Your Majesty—"
"Move," Varion growled.
Arden didn't. "He's done nothing wrong."
"Nothing wrong?" Varion's eyes glowed like fresh embers. "He was laughing. With you."
Ren blinked. "...Are we seriously doing this right now? Is this about me not laughing at your jokes during therapy?"
Varion ignored him. "I told you to heal me, Doctor. Not to—" he gestured sharply at the space between Ren and Arden "—waste your compassion on my knight."
Ren sacrastically remarked. "Oh my god. You're jealous."
The room went very, very still.
Arden whispered, "Doctor—"
"No, no," Ren said, standing up. "I need to confirm this for my records. Your Majesty, are you seriously mad that I— your prisoner-slash-therapist — had a friendly chat with someone who doesn't set things on fire when I speak?"
Varion's hand twitched. "You mock me."
"Constantly," Ren said. "It's called coping!"
Arden pressed a hand over his face. "Ren, please—"
But it was too late.
Varion stepped closer, and the heat rolled off him in waves. "You dare treat him?" he spat. "When I am the one you were brought here for?"
Ren blinked. "I wasn't treating him! We were—"
"Laughing," Varion snarled. "At me."
Ren threw up his hands. "You need therapy more than I thought!"
For a second, even Arden looked like he was reconsidering self-preservation.
Then, to Ren's utter shock, Varion slammed his fist into the wall beside him, cracking stone, showering sparks and shouted, "I DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU!"
The echo rang through the castle.
Ren froze. Arden's eyes widened.
Varion stood there, breathing hard, voice raw now. "You should fear me. Hate me. But you look at me like I'm… like I'm just sad."
Ren swallowed hard, his voice softening. "Maybe because you are."
Varion stared at him, fire flickering low. Then, abruptly, he turned and strode away, the doorframe still smoldering behind him.
Silence returned, broken only by Ren's shaky exhale.
After a beat, Arden murmured, "You have a death wish."
Ren sank onto the floor. "I have an ethical obligation to be honest. And possibly brain damage."
Arden offered him a hand. "Next time, try lying."
Ren took it, groaning. "I'm not built for diplomacy."
"I noticed."
Ren glanced up at him, managing a weak grin. "Still, you stayed."
Arden's expression softened. "Someone has to make sure you don't die for telling the truth."
Ren smiled faintly. "My hero."
Arden rolled his eyes, but his hand lingered a second too long before pulling away.
That night, Ren sat on the floor of his cell, scribbling by candlelight.
Session 2 Notes: Patient exhibits intense jealousy and possible attachment issues. Also, property damage. Progress: did not kill me (again). Diagnosis: demon puberty.
He sighed and set the quill down. "I'm going to die here," he muttered. "And my ghost is going to need therapy."
Outside, unseen, Varion stood in the shadows of the hall, one hand pressed to the cracked wall he'd left behind. His eyes glowed faintly, his voice barely a whisper.
"Then start with me, Healer. Just… don't laugh without me."