AN :
If hit 120 power stones in 24h ... guess what, I will do a double release ;)
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Had she not chosen to become a Maou and removed herself from the Clan, thus abdicating her position as Heir, Liliana would have been forced to do it for her.
And she knew it.
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We never needed to tell her anything, she knew that her inability to create water meant that in the eye of the laws governing the 72 Pillars, she was no longer considered a true Sitri. So she left the Clan without any hesitation, without being prompted.
What had truly broken her heart was that as far gone as her daughter had been back then, Liliana didn't think Serafall even cared.
Liliana had lost her daughter on that day, and there was nothing that she could do to bring her back.
When Sona had somehow managed to make her way through the wall Serafall erected about herself a decade earlier, Liliana had dared to hope that perhaps Sona had managed to bring her sister back. That her Serafall had returned. But no, that was nothing but a fool's hope.
Though she smiled and laughed again, though she regained some color and tried to live her life again, she was still not whole. Just a copy of what she had once been. It was as if she wanted to live again but couldn't figure out how to go about it, so all she did was mimic how she used to behave, without any of the fire behind her actions. And that was why she could not conjure any water.
Her soul was still frozen, heart still cold.
She had thought, that was it. Her daughter was truly lost, and only this fragmented piece of what she had been was her all she'd ever have left.
Then one day, without any warning, after centuries of refusing to even consider creating a new Peerage, her daughter had arrived on her doorstep dragging her new Queen behind her.
That had been almost a year ago, and today her daughter had summoned water again.
After two hundred years, her daughter had finally returned.
"Yes," Liliana repeated to herself while her eyes lingered over the table, the place where their tale had begun all those years ago. "It has been far too long."
The ancient doors groaned as they were pushed open, their noise disturbing the otherwise silent library, followed by the sound of boots on hard wood as someone strolled in, not bothering to close the doors behind them.
The original and previously sole occupant of the room did not bother looking up from where they sat reading at the long table,disregarding the sound of the intruder. They simply flipped the page of the large tome that sat upon their lap over and continued reading, their violet eyes scanning through the line of the page efficiently.
The reader was but a child, a tiny wisp of a thing. Their head barely reached over the top of the table and tomb they read from, large even in an adult's hands, was massive in their lap, dwarfing the child. Yet the child did not seem to mind, as they continued to calmly devour the words off the page, their expression unusually blank in contrast to the single mindedness they read with.
From top to bottom, the young child was almost entirely wrapped up with the color black. From their wing-tipped shoes, to their creaseless black slacks to the black waistcoat they wore over a neatly white buttoned-up shirt where the child had a dark long string tie wrapped around their throats.
Even their hair, cut short in a bob-cut style and neatly combed, was raven black. The only splash of color was the violet of their eyes, a trait they had inherited from their mother, and the paleness of their skin.
"Well, aren't you the gloomy one?" A chipper voice called out, sounding completely out of place in the solemn atmosphere of the ancient library
The child glanced up to find themselves staring into a pair of vivid blue eyes, twinkling with hidden mischief and amusement, that impression was further reinforced by the large Cheshire grin beneath them. The eyes were set on the face of another child, one around the same age as the first though otherwise was completely different.
Her bright blond hair tumbled down her head to her shoulders in a tangle mess while her skin was a rich healthy pink. Unlike the simple monotone black and white the first child wore, this one was a rainbow of colors in comparison.
She wore an untied bright forest green robe with golden embroidery stitched into, while underneath it was a blue colored tunic dotted with dozens of white stars. Her dark brown pants led down to the well-worn deerskin boots she wore on her feet.
On top of her head was a wide brimmed witch's hat, the top flopping over slightly. And finally in her hand she held a long wooden staff, that was tipped by what appeared to be a badly carved five pointed star.
"What's with the clothes?" The young witch asked and reached out to tug at the first child's string tie, still squatting down at the table.
The child tilted their head ever so slightly, watching the witch with dull eyes, "...And what precisely is wrong with my clothes?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing." The witch held her hand up in a placating manner, though the mischievous grin she was sporting contrasted with her words. "It's just boring as hell that's all. Where are the colors? Did you just come back from a funeral or did you bore all the colors around you so badly that they decided to commit suicide?"
"Neither assumptions are correct," The child answered, either not understanding the witch had been joking or not caring. "All of my clothing is this color. What point is there in bothering with multiple colors when simple black and white would suffice."
The witch actually looked offended. "What's the point in color? What kind of a question is that?" The witch leapt to her feet and took a grandiose pose, one hand on her hip while the other pointed her staff at the child. "Color is life. All of reality would become dull, bland and entirely pointless without it."
"That is where you're wrong," The child countered, their voice holding not a speck of the passion the witch did, "Should color disappear nothing would change. Color is merely a meaningless part of existence, it holds no value other than the superficial, no substance or gain.
I see no meaning in it, and it is illogical for you to place value in what doesn't have any." Then the child looked back down at the book on their lap, dismissing the witch. "Now if you'll excuse me I'd like to return to my reading."
"...You really are the gloomy type ain't ya?" The witch frowned down at the child, before her grin returned and she shrugged. "Ah well, it takes all kinds I guess."
The witch began to walk to the middle of the table before slowly spinning in place, her eyes scanning the library. "Hey, have you seen the boss's daughter anywhere? I heard she was in here so I dropped by to say hi."
"Boss? Are you by chance referring to Liliana Sitri?" The child asked, not bothering to look up or pause in their reading.
"Yup, that's the boss alright. I'm looking for her sweet and precious little girl, I heard she was supposed to be some kind of prodigy. I love messing around with those kinds. They always seem to carry some kind of big stick up their ass, and there is nothing funnier than watching their faces as I pull it out and whack them over the head with it." the witch snickered at the thought, "So where is she?"
The child briefly considered lying before discarding the option. It was meaningless to delay the inevitable and the witch was bound to find out the truth eventually. So the child flipped over another page and answered. "You are speaking with her."
"What!" The witch spun around so fast that she almost fell over. Pinwheeling her arms for a moment as she tried and eventually succeeded in regaining her balance before she hurried over to the child and squatted so their faces were almost level again. "You're the Sitri Heir? But that's impossible, she's supposed to be a girl."
"I assure you not only is my position as heir very much possible but I am in fact a girl."
"Nah-ah, no way, not possible. There is no way you're a...girl?" During the middle of her denials, the witch's hands had shot forward and latched onto the Sitri Heir's chest, no doubt trying to prove that the child was male, only for her words to trail off as her hands met two small but soft orbs that were unmistakably breasts.
The witch gaped into the Sitri's face who in turn looked up from her reading and looked back at her with a deadpan expression. "By my father's nonexistent hair, you really are a girl!"
"Yes, I believe I had already established that." Then the Sitri returned to her reading, unconcerned by the hands that haven't detached themselves from her chest.
The witch stared disbelievingly at the chest she was holding, before her hand squeezed as she groped the other girl's breasts. Then she groped again, and again before her head slump over in defeat.
"...I lost," The downtrodden witch announced. "You're shorter than me but yours is already bigger than mine." The entire time she spoke her hands remained attached to the other girl's chest…nor did they stop their groping.
For the next minute or so the library was silent as the Sitri continued reading, apparently unconcerned by the witch's unceasing groping of her breasts.
The witch finally looked up, and shot the other girl a perplexed look even as her hands continued their fondling. "Aren't you going to scream? *grope* *grope* Or even slap me?" The blond tilted her head curiously. "That's the usual response I get whenever I do this."
"No." The Sitri calmly flipped over a page before continuing. "While inappropriate I don't believe your actions warrant neither yelling nor slapping." Then the young Devil returned to her reading.
"Oh come one. Not even one little itty bitty scream? I'll even settle for an adorable 'eep'." The witch gave the Sitri an imploring look before frowning when she didn't receive a reply.
"Damn, you're no fun. Half the point of groping pretty girls is to see their reaction. How am I supposed to properly enjoy feeling you up if you don't react?" Despite her words, the young witch hadn't stopped her groping.
"If you find your actions so unappealing then you're free to stop." The Devil told her, clearly unconcerned either way.
"No," The blond replied almost sullenly. "Your reactions are boring but your breasts still feel really nice."
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Hey guys I really need you to throw some power Stones ;)
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