There was a sudden, blinding flash of pain, and everything following it was just a blur of helplessness; a waking nightmare from which Cobalt could not escape.

  “I don’t believe this… Shit… No, keep him here… Can’t keep him at the hospital…”

  Voices he didn’t recognise echoed all around him as flashes of light shone through his eyelids, piercing his gaze with bright spots. For a single, terrified moment he thought he was back in that cave, trapped within his own inert flesh.

  “See the ribs, how they’ve fused…? Blood’s all wrong… Fibre’s much, much too dense… None of this makes sense…”

  He drifted in and out, but all he could make out was blurred shapes, just out of his periphery. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. Every inch of his body felt inert and lifeless; numbed to the marrow of his bones.

  “Any movement…? Pulled the shards from his leg… Fluid intake… No sign of atrophy…?”

  Days seemed to tick by in mere seconds, and yet Cobalt couldn’t shake himself free from this limbo. His breath rattled hollow in his chest, and terror gripped his heart.

  But every now and then, he’d feel a reassuring presence just out of view. A gentle hand pressed against his head, adjusting his sheets, fluffing his pillows…

  And then a voice, different to all the others.

  “Mistress Viola dropped by to check in earlier today. Mm, he’s still in recovery, ma’am. Yes. As you desire. I’ll make sure the house is ready.”

  Different, yet familiar. It soothed him, allowing the Incubus to drift back into a slumber, where the terrors of reality couldn’t find him. He found his sleep punctuated by strange, nostalgic dreams of a childhood he couldn’t remember, but before he could follow them all the way through, his rest was abruptly interrupted by his entire body jolting awake.

  His eyes snapped open. Cobalt was in a bed, though this one wasn’t deep beneath the ground. He was tucked up comfortably, and there was a proper roof over his head, complete with a darkened light fixture. He blinked a few times and experimentally flexed his hands beneath the sheets. Movement came just fine, if a little sluggishly. He felt completely spent, and his knee was throbbing with a dull ache.

  “Where…?” he murmured, trying to moisten his cottonmouth.

  Squinting, he looked around to find himself in a bedroom; a nice one at that. Bookshelves laden with well-thumbed novels, a hand-carved wardrobe in the corner, a writing desk complete with a home computer… It seemed homely, were it not for all of the medical equipment surrounding the bed. A heart monitor softly pulsed beside him, and as he cleared his vision, he looked up to find an empty IV bag dangling over him.

  “How long this time…?” Cobalt asked, awkwardly shuffling up in the bed.

  Even doing that was a struggle; the enervation was sapping the strength right from his bones. After waiting for a moment to catch his breath, the Incubus swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand, but the moment he put his weight on his right leg, his knee abruptly screamed with pain. He cried out in shock, collapsing back onto the bed before he could draw himself to his full height.

  “Wh- What the Hell?” he gasped, gingerly pressing a hand to his injured leg.

  Beyond the confines of the bedroom, he heard movement. Fear built in his chest as the sound of heavy footsteps drew closer, spurring Cobalt to scramble for something to defend himself with, succeeding only in finding a ballpoint pen sitting on the bedside table.

  The door opened, and light from the hallway flood the room.

  Cobalt’s eyes widened.

  There, standing in the doorway, was the woman from his most recent dream; an Oni dressed in the attire of a maid. She was larger than he remembered, and had since grown to a third-stage demon, but there was truly no mistaking that stoic gaze. She held a broom in one hand, though upon seeing the Incubus sitting upright, she set it aside and slowly approached the bed.

  His eyes watered at the sight of her. Patchwork as his memories were, he could remember her distinctly. The reserved woman who helped raised him, who was always there for him. At least until she wasn’t.

  “Lydia…?” Cobalt breathed, his voice cracking a little.

  She nodded solemnly.

  “Master Cobalt,” she responded gently, sitting by his side.

  Her voice… A little waspier, but still as reassuring as it has always been.

  “You’ve changed…”

  “I’ve grown older. As we all have.”

  Reaching over, she took his hand in hers. He could feel callouses on her palms.

  “You’ve changed as well, though not for the better.”

  Cobalt squeezed her hand. His grip was weak and shaking.

  “Is… Is Mom off shooting again?” he asked, unable to remember his mother’s face.

  Lydia shook her head.

  “Mistress Trayer hasn’t performed in a movie for many years now. She retired some time ago,” she told him, taking her words slow for him.

  “I- I… When did we last…?”

  “You were going on sixteen when I last saw you.”

  “How long…?”

  “Twelve years, give or take. You’ve grown so much.”

  Tears streaked down the side of his face, and yet Cobalt didn’t know why. He reached up to dry his eyes, discovering that he had been changed into a soft set of pyjamas.

  “Twelve… That means…”

  He furrowed his brow as he thought, giving Lydia some time to adjust the Incubus’ pillows.

  “I’m twenty… eight…?” Cobalt breathed, his face falling.

  “Thereabouts,” the Oni said, smoothing out the blanket at the bottom of the bed.

  He lay back, staring at the ceiling for a few moments as he processed that information. Memories of being seven, twelve years since he was sixteen, five years in a coma, so he was twenty-three when he…

  Cobalt winced, the numbers doing very little to help his throbbing headache. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his eyes and looked over to Lydia.

  “Mom… Where is she, then?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  “Mistress Trayer is currently overseeing proceedings in Phrodival.”

  “Huh…?”

  “Your grandmother stepped down as Matriarch, and the role fell to your mother.”

  “I… How much has changed?”

  The Oni placed a strong hand on his chest.

  “A lot, young master. Too much for you to handle at the moment. You need to rest,” she told him, softly but firmly.

  Cobalt shook his head.

  “N- No, I’ve rested enough. What’s happened, Lydia? People were talking about there. About Earth and Hell, and then there’s that huge castle, and I don’t know what the Hell is going on anymore and-”

  The Incubus slipped into a fit of coughing, prompting his guardian to gently pat his back until it subsided.

  “Earth and Hell are currently in diplomatic talks. As for the Tempered Bastion…”

  Lydia went quiet for a moment, lost in thought.

  “… The public is in an uproar, young master. There are those who have a reverential view of you, and it was Doctor Elliott’s recommendation to treat you here, rather than the hospital. Mistress Viola was of much the same mind,” she explained, slowly and carefully.

  As soon as Cobalt heard that name, his heart flared, causing his veins to flash violently. He sat up in the bed and almost kicked the covers off, his eyes watering as his knee twinged.

  “Viola! Where is she?! What did she do?!” the Incubus gasped, his teeth bared.

  “She brought you home a few weeks ago. It’s thanks to her and Doctor Elliott that you’ve recovered so smoothly.”

  “Recovered from what?! What aren’t you-?!”

  “Young master,” Lydia said, her tone growing steely, “you need to calm down. Before you hurt yourself.”

  The fight left his body, causing Cobalt to collapse back onto his pillows. Lydia laid a hand on his head, brushing his overgrown hair aside and gently grazing his splintered iron horn. He glanced around the room, his gaze honing in on an old family photograph sitting on the desk across from the bed. It depicted a lot of smiling purple faces, as well as a single grimacing Incubus. Was that him?

  “Sisters…?” he murmured.

  Lydia nodded and adjusted her cap.

  “They’re doing well. Miss Amber and Miss Viridi are assisting your mother, while Miss Scarlet as procured herself a job with the EHI. Miss Azul has taken up employment out of the citystate, and Miss Violet is occupied with raising the twins.”

  Cobalt furrowed his brow.

  “Twins?”

  “Your nieces, yes. Lavender and Lilac.”

  “I’m an uncle?”

  “Yes. They were born not long after your incapacitation.”

  “Incapac-? Lydia, how did I-?”

  The maid rose from her chair and circled the bed, ignoring Cobalt’s question in favour of checking the medical equipment all around him.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “You need to rest, young master,” Lydia said curtly, turning away from him.

  True, Cobalt was exhausted beyond belief, and his bed was the most comfortable thing he had felt in a long time, but that didn’t settle the unease in his stomach. That guy he stumbled into, then Mistress Viola, and that crowd of strange people who seemed to worship him… Everyone seemed to think he was dead. Why was that? What happened to him? Why were there murals of him around the town?!

  “None of this makes any fucking sense!” Cobalt cried, slamming his fist against the bed.

  Lydia flinched at his sudden outburst. Turning back to him, she placed a hand on his arm.

  “I understand, young master. But please; you must do as the doctor prescribed. Your body has been through a lot, and needs time to recover,” she said, staring deep into his eyes.

  His own eyes stung for a moment; it was a nostalgic feeling, that of tears beginning to well. Her smell, her heartbeat, the warmth of her body… It brought him back to that apiary, when she carried him home from a day of directionless wandering.

  “… Okay. I’ll rest…”

  Bowing her head, the maid tucked him into the bed.

  “Thank you, young master.”

  Returning to the door, the Oni looked over her shoulder.

  “I understand this is all very frightening, Master Cobalt. Learning everything from scratch is difficult; this I know well. But understand that you won’t be alone. I’ll be here every step of the way,” she told him, her voice firm and resolute.

  “Thank you, Lydia. I’m sor-”

  “No apologies. Just rest.”

  She left the room, shutting the door behind her and plunging the room back into darkness. Doubt and confusion dogged Cobalt’s every thought, but all he could do was bury himself into his pillows and shut his eyes, desperate to get some sleep.

  Maybe, when he was a little stronger, he could finally figure out what the Hell was going on.

  -----

  It took days before Cobalt was finally allowed to leave his bed. Lydia seemed reluctant to allow it, but after a few consultations with a visiting doctor – a green-skinned demon by the name of Elliott – the all-clear was given. He provided the Incubus with a sturdy brace for his knee, but despite his best efforts, Cobalt just couldn’t stay on his feet for anything longer than a few minutes. Thankfully, Lydia had found a wheelchair somewhere, and much of the house had apparently been adjusted with wide doorways and stairlifts.

  As Lydia wheeled him through the halls of the house, he found himself struck by a strange sense of nostalgia; memories of memories that he didn’t have. He felt as though he knew this place well – its layout, its sights, its smells – and yet when Cobalt scoured his brain, he could only draw a blank. The Oni was always there to answer his questions, but whenever he tried to broach the subject of just what had happened to him, she grew strangely evasive.

  “The Hellbreak Incident was hard on all of us, young master,” she would say, almost robotically.

  Eventually, he stopped asking.

  Another thing that irked him was the meals Lydia served him. He remembered her being nothing short of an excellent cook when he was a child, but the food she served him here was… strange. Raw meat, cut into thin pieces and served with garnish or other additions. He balked the first time he was presented with it, but once he tried some, the Incubus was surprised to find himself liking it quite a bit. He felt as though it was still missing something, but he just chalked it up to his body being unused to food after so long.

  “Bear meat,” Lydia told him as she stood dutifully by the kitchen table, “I’m told it’s an Oni delicacy.”

  “You mean you don’t know?” he asked, chewing thoughtfully as he peered up at her.

  “I’m… not sure.”

  Cobalt didn’t push it. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it, but he felt a strange air between himself and the maid. Where they were as close as kin when he was a boy, now he felt disconnected from her. No kidding; so much had happened since then, not that he could remember.

  Day by day, Lydia would bring him things to help jog his memory of his past life. Pictures of his mother and sisters, old toys and belongings; anything to spark his recollection. Slowly, he began to piece his life back together, but it was incredibly slow going. Struggling too hard to remember would cause his head to flare with an unbearable ache, forcing him to spend the rest of the day resting, much to Lydia’s chagrin.

  Until one day, while snooping around the house, Cobalt discovered an old photograph nestled in an album in one of the bedrooms. It was filled with the usual family photographs, but there was one set aside from the rest; a picture of two demons, both dressed in navy-blue uniforms. To the right was a girl with skin like coal dust – a Fallen, he had learned – and long white hair that covered her eyes almost entirely. A large pair of wings was folded behind her back, and a single horn curved around her head like a halo. She was standing nervously, shying away from the demon to her left. An Incubus, grinning unabashedly with his hands planted on his hips. Two yellowed horns jutted through his messy fringe, and his eyes burned a bright amber.

  It took Cobalt a few moments to recognise his own face.

  “Oh…” he murmured, reaching up to run a hand through his scraggly beard.

  He glanced up, his gaze burning into the standing mirror in the corner of the room.

  Something wasn’t right, was it? If he was going to recollect his memories, he needed to look the part. Swivelling his wheelchair around, Cobalt made his way down to the living room, where Lydia was glaring through the slats in the blinds. Cars had been gathering outside the house all week; people were desperate to catch even a glimpse of the vaunted Iron Hound. The only thing stopping them from approaching the door was the threats of police intervention that the maid kept threatening.

  “Lydia?” Cobalt asked in a small voice, lingering in the doorway.

  “Yes, Master Cobalt?”

  He presented the picture.

  “This is me, right?”

  Turning to him, the Oni inspected the photograph.

  “Indeed it is. Though I believe there’s a more recent picture around here somewhere,” she told him, taking the picture from his hands.

  She rummaged around in the nearby cabinets and beauraus for a moment before retrieving a framed photograph and presenting it to him.

  The same Incubus was stood into front of the wrought iron gates of B.I.D., dressed smartly in a shirt and a pair of slacks. His hair was neat, his shirt was smoothed down, and his smile was modest. Glancing at the other picture in Lydia’s hands, Cobalt compared the two.

  The only similarity he could find was the grey and red striped tie present in both pictures.

  “Do you remember anything?” Lydia asked, cocking her head.

  “Um…”

  “You were a teacher. This picture was taken not long after your first month.”

  There it was again. Arnn said something before about him being a teacher, but just like then it made no sense to him. Cobalt didn’t know much, but he knew he didn’t feel too keen on having to teach anyone anything. A job like that sounded… boring.

  Swallowing hard, he tapped the picture he found.

  “I want to look like this again,” he breathed.

  Lydia raised an eyebrow.

  “Young master, you were sixteen in this photo. Are you sure you don’t-”

  “That’s me; I know it. This…”

  He squinted at the picture of him in his teaching apparel. The hair was too short. The smile too subdued. The eyes too dulled. It didn’t look right.

  “… I’m not so sure.”

  Setting the images aside, Lydia grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and sighed heavily.

  “If that is what you desire, young master.”

  She pushed him along in silence, broken only by the quiet squeaking of the wheels. Upon reaching the master bathroom, the Oni carefully removed her charge’s top before manoeuvring his head over the rim of the bath. Grabbing the showerhead, she began to gently wash his hair, skilfully adjusting the temperature to just hot enough that it didn't scald him, but not too cold either.

  The water was soothing, allowing his thoughts to settle for just a moment. As she washed away five years' worth of neglect, Cobalt thought of everything that transpired within the past few days. From what he knew, he was presumed dead for quite some time, while in reality he was in a coma deep within a secret facility beneath Brimstone's park. It sounded completely absurd, like someone's strange fantasy.

  "I don't understand... Everything's so blurry..." he mumbled as Lydia scrubbed shampoo into his hair, taking care not to hurt him.

  "Doctor Elliot did say that you've lost a lot of memories, but they should come back to you in time. In the meantime, I am to reintroduce you to this town and its people slowly, to aid your recovery," she reassured him, slowly washing it out.

  "But when I was looking for Viola, I had this flashback... I was getting punished for something, and I suddenly remembered her..."

  Lydia stopped, her brow furrowing intensely.

  "But didn't Mistress Jezebel...?"

  "Didn't she what?"

  Looking Cobalt in the eyes, she took a moment before swiftly shaking her head and pouring water over his hair, washing the suds away.

  "Let's get your hair cleaned, young master, and then we shall continue."

  Once she was finished, Lydia wheeled Cobalt over to the mirror, where she wrapped a towel around his neck and produced a shining pair of scissors from a drawer.

  “How would you like it?” she asked.

  Cobalt gestured to above his shoulders; around halfway down his neck. His decision prompted some confusion from the Oni.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Y- Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “As you desire.”

  Checking to make sure she was ready, the Oni took his hair in her hands and began to cut.

  As the strands fell away, Cobalt found himself staring into his own eyes, an odd sense of unfamiliarity writhing in his stomach. One of his horns was missing, causing his head to tilt slightly with the weight of what remained of the second, which was made of iron. That alone was enough to confuse him, for as far as he knew, there was no other demon with a horns like his.

  Beneath the hair on his face, he could see a thin scar along his cheek. It was long since healed, but if it hadn't faded over the course of five years, then would it ever disappear? And how did it even get there in the first place?

  Five years...

  It was so long...

  He had so many questions that remained unanswered. First he was a teacher, then he was dead, and now…

  "Please… What happened to me, Lydia? What happened five years ago?" he asked, looking up as she trimmed his fringe.

  She hesitated before answering.

  “Young master-”

  “Please just give me an answer. Anything, Lydia. Please.”

  The Oni gave a shuddering sigh as she snipped.

  "I don't know. But from what Mistress Jezebel told me, you saved many lives."

  As she cut off the last of the excess hair and began to touch him up, Lydia spoke up.

  "Do you remember them, Master Cobalt?" she asked, her voice oddly quiet.

  “Remember who?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “The girls.”

  He thought, but as per usual his mind was empty.

  “I don’t know…”

  “That’s… That’s alright.”

  Nodding reverently, Lydia twisted the tap and skilfully spread shaving cream across the Incubus' face. But as she replaced the scissors and pulled out a razor, a sudden sense of unease washed over him.

  "Master Cobalt? What's the matter?" the maid asked, noticing his discomfort.

  The sensation faded as quickly as it began. He caught himself, just as confused as she was.

  "I- I'm sorry... I don't know what came over me..." he breathed, slumping his shoulders.

  With a gentle sigh, she began her work. As the hair was shaved away, Cobalt began to feel a little more comfortable. This was him. An Incubus with a clean-shaven face, amber eyes and lovely navy hair. But he couldn't get over the little details. The scar on his face, the rings around his eyes, the dulled colour of his irises... They just looked wrong.

  "There we are, all done. Is it to your liking, Master Cobalt?" Lydia finally announced, washing the razor off and returning it to the drawer.

  He stared at his face, feeling a little more comfortable with what he saw. He reached up to touch it, gently running a finger along his cheek.

  "Y- Yeah... That's me..."

  "I'm glad. Now, I think it's high time we washed the rest of you. Cleanliness is a big part of recovering."

  Something in his mind told Cobalt that he should argue, but he was simply too tired to. As Lydia ran the bath, he simply sat behind her, pulling off the towel and dropping it to the floor.

  "Would you like your bath hot or cold, young master?" she asked, glancing back.

  "How did I use to take it?" he replied, wincing as he adjusted his aching neck.

  She nodded.

  "Hot it is then."

  Once the bath was filled, she made to lift him out of the chair, but Cobalt waved her away and stumbled out himself.

  "I can do it, Lydia, I'm okay," he mumbled, struggling to keep his balance.

  Once he shed the rest of his clothes - though with a little difficulty, given the leg brace - the Incubus nervously lowered himself into the water, hissing through his teeth as he was submerged in the water.

  "Is the water to your liking, Master Cobalt?" she asked, hunkering down by the tub.

  "Y- Yeah, yeah... It's... hot..."

  Taking a cloth from the side of the bath, Lydia coated it in body wash and gestured for the Incubus to lean forward, so she may clean his back. He did so without argument, as his mind was somewhere else.

  Cobalt couldn't take his mind off the marks on his body. All down his hands and his arms, even parts of his chest, were scars, healed but nowhere near faded. They frightened him, and as he had no memories of how they got there, his imagination ran wild with terrible notions.

  "Young master, your back..." the Oni remarked, pulling back the cloth.

  "What's wrong with it?" Cobalt cried, craning his neck.

  "It's covered in lash marks. They're old, but unmistakable."

  "Wh- What?"

  "That girl... she never did have any regard for your safety, did she? The Punishment Chamber was never supposed to be used for gratuitous torture,” she sighed, cleaning as gently as she could.

  He furrowed his brow.

  "The... Punishment Chamber...?" he murmured as she poured water down his back.

  Lydia shook her head and reached up to fix her cap.

  "It's nothing to worry about now, young master. Just relax and let me take care of you," she said quickly, pushing him back.

  True, the hot water seemed to ease his aching limbs, and the steam was helping him to clear his thoughts. But as his skin subtly shifted colour from the heat, it only caused his scars to stand out more, especially the one that lay just below his chest; a gnarled spot of flesh just beneath his ribcage. Further down, his legs looked even stranger. No hair grew on them, and the skin looked warped, like they had been horridly burned.

  "I feel like I was broken, Lydia. Like I was badly put back together," he sighed as she wiped down his arms.

  "You had undergone a lot of trauma before you disappeared. You must have been so brave to have gone through it all with a stiff upper lip."

  "Trauma? What do you mean?"

  Again, she just shook her head.

  Eventually, Cobalt just found it best to keep his thoughts away from the old wounds spanning his body. Instead, he just turned his gaze towards the ceiling. Slowly, he felt his eyelids beginning to droop.

  "Maybe I am broken..." he yawned, slowly slipping away.

  He dimly recognised the sensation of being lifted out of the bath.

  "No, young master. You were never broken."