Shadows and Light

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting its pale glow through the window of Belial's room. Inside, shadows stretched across the walls, swallowing the faint light as Belial sat curled in a corner. Her knees were drawn to her chest, and her pale face was partially hidden by her dark hair, which cascaded around her like a curtain. Her hands trembled slightly, clutching a silver talisman that glimmered faintly in the moonlight.

Her mind raced with fragments of the voice that had haunted her earlier, the mysterious, eerie whisper that claimed her as the last of the Salem witches. The words reverberated in her head, carrying an unbearable weight: Make us proud.

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if willing the voice to disappear, but the silence only made her feel more alone. A single tear rolled down her cheek, catching the faint light before disappearing into the shadows.

Suddenly, the heavy stillness was broken by a burst of noise. The door to her room flew open with an unexpected energy, startling her. She leapt to her feet, her talisman clutched tightly in her hand.

"Asmodeus! Madara!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and irritation as the two boys stumbled into her dimly lit room, practically glowing with excitement.

"Belial!" Asmodeus called, his face alight with joy as he hurried toward her. His hair was slightly tousled from the night's events, and his robes were disheveled, but his grin was infectious. "You won't believe what just happened!"

Madara followed, his usual calm demeanor tinged with a rare smile. He crossed his arms as he leaned casually against the doorframe, his piercing eyes studying her closely. "We've got good news," he added.

Belial blinked at them, her confusion evident as she instinctively stepped back into the shadows. She looked down at the talisman in her hand, feeling its cold metal bite into her palm, and then back up at the two boys.

"What's going on?" she asked softly, her voice trembling. "I… I've been dealing with something strange."

Asmodeus paused, his excitement dimming slightly as he noticed her posture—tense and guarded. His expression softened, and he took a cautious step closer.

"What happened?" he asked gently. "You look… shaken."

Belial hesitated, her fingers brushing against the talisman as if seeking reassurance. "Something happened earlier," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I heard a voice… calling to me. It said I'm the last of the Salem witches." Her eyes flickered with a mix of fear and confusion. "It left this behind."

She held up the talisman, its intricate design gleaming faintly. The sight of it seemed to carry an ancient weight, and both boys exchanged a glance, their excitement momentarily overshadowed by curiosity.

Madara pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, his expression serious. "The Salem witches?" he echoed, his voice low. "That's no small claim, Belial. Their bloodline was believed to be wiped out centuries ago."

Belial nodded, her grip tightening on the talisman. "I thought so too, but… this voice. It was so clear, so powerful. It said I had to make them proud." Her voice broke slightly, and she turned her gaze to the floor. "I don't even know what that means."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words settling over them. Then, Asmodeus stepped forward, his hand hesitantly reaching out to her shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice steady. "You're not alone in this, okay? Whatever this is, we'll figure it out together."

Belial's eyes met his, and for the first time that night, a flicker of hope crossed her face. The shadows around her seemed to lift slightly, their oppressive weight giving way to a faint sense of warmth.

Madara cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "And speaking of hope," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "we've got some news that might cheer you up."

Asmodeus's grin returned in full force. "I beat Behemoth in Witch Ball tonight!" he announced, his excitement bubbling over.

Belial blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. "Wait, what?"

"You heard him," Madara said with a smirk. "He actually held his own out there. Took down one of Lucifer's best."

Belial stared at Asmodeus, her mouth opening slightly in surprise. "You? Beat Behemoth?"

"Yeah!" Asmodeus replied, his cheeks reddening slightly under her scrutiny. "I mean, I wasn't sure I could do it, but… somehow, I pulled it off."

Belial's lips twitched, and before she could stop herself, she let out a small, genuine laugh. The sound was soft, like the first notes of a song, and it filled the room with an unexpected warmth.

"Wow," she said, her voice lighter than before. "I guess miracles do happen."

"Hey!" Asmodeus protested, though he couldn't help but laugh along with her.

Madara chuckled, his arms crossing again. "See? I told you, confidence makes all the difference."

Belial's gaze softened as she looked between the two of them. For the first time that night, the weight of the talisman in her hand didn't feel so overwhelming.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice filled with sincerity. "For coming here. For… reminding me I'm not alone."

Asmodeus shrugged, his smile easy. "What are friends for?"

Madara nodded, his expression serious once more. "Whatever this thing with the Salem witches is, we'll figure it out. But for now, get some rest. Tomorrow's a new day, and we've got your back."

Belial nodded, a faint smile lingering on her lips as she watched them leave the room. She clutched the talisman to her chest, the metallic chill replaced by a quiet warmth. For the first time since the voice had called to her, she felt like she might be able to face whatever lay ahead.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Belial glanced out the window. The moonlight no longer felt cold or distant—it felt like a beacon, guiding her through the shadows.