𝗖𝘆𝗿𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱: 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗺 - •°Chapter 7: Sibling Shenanigans°•

Hours had passed by very quickly. Lloyd, who had been in the library for those hours, got up and stretched, arching his back and extending his limbs. He had spent the time pouring over ancient tomes and scrolls, devouring knowledge and taking notes. Now, he was ready to see what his sister was up to. He teleported straight to Cyra's room, materializing in front of her door. He knew that if there was one thing he could count on, it was that Cyra couldn't stay in one place for too long. So if he found her in her room, he'd be lucky.

When he got to her room, he met her exactly how he expected to meet her. In one corner of the room stood her desk — a sleek black slab of polished obsidian, its edges lined with blood-red metallic trim that faintly glimmered under the dim crimson lighting. The black walls were covered with dark carvings and faintly glowing crimson patterns, matching the color scheme of the entire palace. The parchment and scrolls scattered across the desk were filled with strange arcane symbols that Lloyd couldn’t identify.

Cyra sat on her matching chair: a black frame with deep red cushioning, silver studs lining its edges, perfectly in tune with Hell’s ominous yet elegant aesthetic. Her stark white hair stood out dramatically against the dark decor, making her seem even brighter in the otherwise shadowed room. In her hand, she held a black quill, tapping it continuously on one of the parchments. Lloyd assumed she was thinking of what to write or "draw." He walked closer to the desk, his footsteps silent on the cool, dark stone floor.

He chuckled quietly at the drawings scattered across the desk. Cyra, still lost in thought, hadn’t noticed him yet. Lloyd saw an opportunity and decided to make his entrance entertaining. He teleported right beside her left ear and shouted, “Cyra!”

She jolted out of her chair, almost flinging the quill across the room. Her wild white hair shot in every direction, a chaotic mess from how many times she must’ve run her hand through it while thinking. To Lloyd, it resembled what humans called a bush. He’d only read about those in books—there were no such plants in Hell… at least, none with leaves that didn’t scream.

“What—?!” she blurted, still sitting on the floor, before quickly scrambling back to her feet. She spun to face Lloyd, who was already chuckling.

Before she could even start yelling at him, Lloyd interrupted with a wide grin. “Ahh, you’re finally out of your trance. Hello, sis!”

Cyra narrowed her eyes at him, grumbling, “You interrupted what I was writing.”

Lloyd’s grin only widened. “If it makes you feel better, Father’s already sent for your Angel trainer. He’ll be here soon.”

“Wait—really?!” Cyra’s eyes lit up with excitement as she stared at him, searching for any hint that he was teasing.

Lloyd nodded. “I’ll tell you about him—”

“Yes!” she blurted, cutting him off, her excitement overflowing.

“—after you clean up your mess.” Lloyd finished, gesturing at the desk overflowing with parchment and ink-stained scrolls.

Cyra glanced around, momentarily confused, before spotting the chaos. “Oh. I’ll do that.”

“Good,” Lloyd said, heading for the door. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“Sure!” Cyra clapped her hands in delight before waving him off. “Now, shoo!”

Lloyd laughed, already halfway through the door. “I’m going, I’m going.” He closed the heavy black door behind him with a soft thud.

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─── ⋆ Time Skip ⋆ ───

After organizing her parchments, Cyra originally planned to open the door like a normal person and meet Lloyd so they could head to see their father. But then, another idea popped into her head — a much better one, at least in her opinion.

She could teleport quietly behind Lloyd and scare him. Sure, it was a bit cliché, but she hadn’t done it before. And if it worked? Oh, she’d never let him live it down. The endless teasing potential alone made it worth the risk.

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─── ⋆ A few minutes later⋆ ───

The risk had definitely not paid off.

Cyra now lay sprawled on the cold, polished floor of one of the palace corridors. Above her, Lloyd was laughing so hard he was nearly doubled over, clutching his stomach like it might split from the effort.

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─── ⋆A few minutes ago⋆ ───

Cyra teleported just outside her door, fully expecting to appear right behind Lloyd. She was sure he’d be waiting for her. Well — he was waiting, just not exactly where she thought.

The moment she materialized, she leapt into action.

"BOO— wait... where is he?"

Her eyes darted around. Empty.

She grumbled under her breath, "Tch. Probably waiting in the hall."

At that moment, a shadowy palace guard passed nearby — its body wrapped in dark, mist-like tendrils that curled and writhed around twisted, nightmarish armor. The creature glided rather than walked, its glowing crimson eyes fixed on her. Cyra hadn’t noticed it at first, so she instinctively jerked back a little.

"O-oh, hello…" she said, quickly trying to compose herself and act like she totally meant to do that.

The guard simply nodded, the mist swirling lazily. Cyra cleared her throat and asked, "Have you seen my brother anywhere?"

The creature slowly shook its head.

"... Alright… I’ll just… go, then," she said, trying her best to sound casual while desperately saving face.

The guard gave a slight bow and floated off, resuming its patrol as if nothing had happened. Leaving Cyra to walk down the corridor, already cursing Lloyd in her mind.

She turned right into a stretch illuminated by flickering torches, their flames casting eerie, shifting shadows on the dark stone walls. Portraits lined both sides of the hall, ancient and ominous, each framed in blackened, twisted metal. As always, she ran her hand along the cold surface of each frame, a small habit that brought her odd comfort.

Eventually, she paused at her favorite — a portrait depicting a stormy night, lightning crackling behind a single, gnarled tree standing defiantly in a barren field. Cyra smiled softly at it before moving on.

Minutes ticked by, and with every turn, her frustration grew.

"I swear, if I see him, I'm gonna rip his head off," she muttered darkly. "Stupid Lloyd, stupid corridors, stupid Lloyd, stupid unnecessarily large cas— AAH!"

Before she could finish, Lloyd materialized behind her, grabbed her ankle mid-step, and yanked her straight into the air. She dangled helplessly, upside down, her white-gold and black-red wings flaring out reflexively. The polished stone beneath her spun slightly in her vision as she tried to orient herself.

Teleporting was pointless — any place she tried to blink to, Lloyd would simply follow with his grip still locked. So she resorted to the next best option:

Scream at him.

"LLOYD XAREN ABADDON! Put me down this instant!" she shouted, managing to cross her arms mid-air in an attempt to look serious. It only made her look more ridiculous.

The raven-haired Devil laughed, completely unbothered. "Oh, Cyra, you’re absolutely adorable when you’re mad."

"This isn't funny, Lloyd! I said put me down!"

"No chance, sis. You’ll have to do better than just yelling," he teased, grinning.

Cyra’s expression darkened. "I’ll show you better! Just wait until I get out of this!"

Lloyd leaned closer, smirking. "I’m shaking in my boots, Cyra."

Her eyes flicked nervously to his grin. She knew what was coming. "No, no— don’t you dare— GAH!"

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Which brings us to the present.

Cyra was sitting on the floor, arms crossed, glaring absolute murder at Lloyd. He, on the other hand, was practically wheezing with laughter, doubled over like he’d just heard the best joke of the century.

"That was perfect!" Lloyd choked out between laughs. "You should’ve seen your face — you looked like a startled mortal seeing a demon for the first time!"

Cyra deadpanned, "Keep laughing, Lloyd. Just remember, I know where your room is."

Lloyd grinned, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. "You say that like it scares me. You’ll be too busy untangling yourself from that dramatic entrance of yours to do anything."

"I was going for dramatic surprise, not... whatever that was," Cyra muttered, brushing off her outfit.

"Hey, if you’re gonna fail, at least fail with style. Which you did," Lloyd teased, flashing a smug grin.

Before Cyra could fire back, Lloyd clapped his hands. "Anyway, enough about your tragic attempt at scaring me. We've got something more important — you're finally going to meet your Angel trainer!"

"Who in the Afterlife is that?" Cyra asked, raising a brow.

Lloyd tapped his chin theatrically. "Right, right... forgot to mention that tiny detail. I was too distracted by, well—" he gestured vaguely toward her with both hands, "this whole... mess."

Cyra narrowed her eyes. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Of course I am," Lloyd beamed. "You’re adorable when you’re failing at being intimidating."

Cyra’s glare intensified. "Adorable? Really? Do you want me to redefine 'wrath' for you?"

Lloyd chuckled. "I live with Father. I’m immune."

She crossed her arms. "Fine. So? What's this Angel’s name?"

"Zelthur," Lloyd said dramatically. "Cool name, right?"

"Hmm..." Cyra pretended to think, then shrugged, "Meh."

Lloyd stared at her. "That’s it? No excitement? No curiosity? Just 'meh'?"

"I’m saving my excitement for when you inevitably embarrass yourself in front of him," Cyra replied with a wicked grin.

Lloyd raised a finger, nodding in mock seriousness. "Fair. But you’ll be the one training, not me. So really, the embarrassment odds are in your favor."

"Not if you keep hovering like an trapped ghost," Cyra shot back.

"Trapped ghost? I prefer 'wise, supportive older brother,'" Lloyd declared proudly.

"You’re about as wise as a drunken imp," Cyra deadpanned.

Lloyd laughed again. "Alright, alright! I’ll tell you more about Zelthur. But only if you promise not to summon a horde of imps on me afterward."

Cyra smirked. "No promises. But if you keep talking, you might just convince me."

Lloyd started walking ahead with a mischievous glance over his shoulder. "Come on then, shorty. We’ve got training to do."

"Call me short one more time, Lloyd," Cyra warned, falling in step beside him, "and I'll personally show you how short I can make you."

»»———————-　♔　———————-««

Lloyd: "No excitement, no curiosity? Just 'meh'?"

Cyra: "What's there to be excited about? You're just going to embarrass me in front of my trainer again, aren't you?"

Lloyd: "... You know me so well-"

---

Cyra: "BOO- wait- where is he?"

Shadowy Guard: "Um, I think you just scared yourself-"

Cyra: "Shut up, I meant to do that."

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[A/N]: I know some of you expected Cyra to start her training in this chapter but this idea suddenly came to me and I just thought, why not?

Thanks for reading! ^^

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