Chapter 44: The Cryptid With the Glasses (and the Scroll of Doom)
Chapter 44: The Cryptid With the Glasses (and the Scroll of Doom)
Elyn’s POV
I stared at Morthen—at his twitching antennae, at his too-serious posture, at the spectacles perched on the soft fuzz of his moth-face—and for a moment my brain simply refused to function.
Then I chuckled.
It came out awkward and high-pitched, like someone trying to pretend they were not trying to understand why an insect needed glasses to see.
"Oh," I said, waving dismissively. "Very funny. You and Rin are pulling a joke on me, right? ’Moth man can’t see’? Good one."
Rin blinked at me. "What joke?"
Morthen straightened, offended in the way only someone with a moth’s face and a tailored suit could manage. "My lady," he said, scandalized, "I assure you—I am not joking."
I blinked. Then blinked again.
Then frowned. "How is that even possible? You’re an insect."
Morthen gasped like I had slapped him with a frying pan.
"I—am NOT an insect."
His antennae shot up in pure horror.
"I am," he declared with utmost dignity, "a Cryptid-Class Demon. A scholarly branch of Demi-Umbral lineage. My physiology merely resembles that of a surface-world moth."
"...Your face is a moth face."
"It is a distinguished moth face," he corrected, sounding wounded.
Rin nodded helpfully. "He gets cranky if you call him an insect."
She pointed to him. "Once he threw a ledger at Marrok."
"It was a small ledger," Morthen muttered under his breath. Then he cleared his throat and addressed me directly. "These are precisely the matters I must teach you, my lady. Demon races, classes, ranks, and customs. You must familiarize yourself with how we operate in order to work with us effectively."
I stared at him.
Then, slowly, I said, "So you really... can’t see without those glasses?"
He nodded, completely serious. "Not at all. Without them, everything becomes a blur of worthless shadows. Are my impairments an inconvenience to you?"
I sighed. "No, Morthen. It’s just—unexpected."
"Understandable."
He adjusted his spectacles, looking somehow smug about his own blindness.
"So," I said, rubbing my forehead, "are you the reason I’m awake at this tragic hour?"
"Yes," he replied promptly. "We have much to do and much to learn. Sunrise is late for most cryptid demons. Dawn is practically noon."
Rin snorted. "He says that because he sleeps hanging upside down."
Morthen shot her a glare. "That is irrelevant."
Then, to me: "Have you received a tour of the castle, my lady?"
I nodded. "Yesterday morning."
"Good. Then it is time we begin with your orientation."
"Orientation?" I echoed, already regretting breathing.
"Yes, one about the Demon Realm," Morthen said gravely. "Please follow me."
I sighed loud enough for several ancestors to hear, but followed him anyway. Rin skipped behind us, humming, and stepping over Vaelory’s unconscious body like it was a decorative rug.
Normally, I would take pity on her and try to move her, but I didn’t care for now—especially since she almost tried to dress me in something so hideous, knowing how much I hated it. Even at that, I made sure Rin moved Vaelory to a better position after a few minutes.
Morthen led me down a quiet hallway toward a room I had not seen before. The office doors were tall and dark, framed with carved runes that glowed faintly red.
When he opened them, a wave of warm, cedar-scented air greeted me.
The office was... practical, yet intimidating.
High shelves lined the walls, stacked with scrolls and leatherbound tomes. A large obsidian desk dominated the center, polished to a mirror sheen.
Dark crimson drapes filtered light from a wide window, bathing the room in a dusky, scholarly glow.
Morthen marched straight to the desk and unloaded a stack of books with the dramatic flourish of someone slamming evidence onto a courtroom bench.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
I stared at them.
"What," I said slowly, "are all these for?"
Morthen clasped his hands. "My lady, in order to govern or even coexist effectively here, you must familiarize yourself with the Demon Realm’s structure, history, races, politics, cultural expectations, and ecological hazards. These texts will give you a comprehensive foundation."
Rin leaned in and whispered, "He means they’re boring."
I already suspected.
I gave Morthen a long look, then nodded once. Fine. I did need to know these things. For survival if nothing else.
After all, I was supposed to marry the demon king.
And even if I didn’t plan on actually doing so, I couldn’t walk around acting like a clueless tourist.
I opened the first book.
And immediately regretted it.
The letters were tiny. The words were long. The sentence I tried to read had at least four commas and something about "hierarchical flux classifications in sub-Umbral bloodlines."
My eyes glazed over in approximately two seconds.
My head grew heavy.
The world softened.
Then—
TOK.
My head jerked up at the sharp tap Morthen delivered to the desk beside me.
"My lady," he said with crisp disapproval, "sleeping will prevent you from understanding the foundations of your future duties."
"I was resting my eyes," I muttered.
"You were drooling."
I wiped my mouth on instinct and Rin giggled.
Morthen continued sternly, "These lessons are essential. You must know which demons you will lead, how they function, and what to expect from their clans."
I yawned in his face.
"Okay," I said tiredly. "Explain it. Let me hear it from you. Maybe I’ll understand it better."
He brightened slightly, like a teacher who had just been told the class pet survived.
"Very well."
He straightened, adjusted his spectacles, and began with a reverence that suggested he might start singing hymns at any moment.
"In the Demon Realm, there are primary ranking classes. At the very top is the Archdemon tier—occupied solely by the Demon King."
Right. Zorathys. That part I understood.
"Below the Archdemon is the Highblood Court," Morthen continued. "These are the seven noble families that serve directly under His Majesty. Each family governs extensive territories and commands entire clans of demons across the realm."
Seven families. Easy enough.
"Below them is the Lesser Houses—the lower-tier demons who are still noble but with smaller domains and fewer demons. They are essential for maintaining the daily functions of the realm."
I nodded. This part was making sense. So far.
"The seven noble families," he announced, "are of great importance. Each family oversees multiple territories, each with its own ecosystems, resource management, and demon subordinates. Their histories intertwine with millennia of rulings, wars, alliances, betrayals, and bloodlines infused with primal magic."
"Who are they?" I asked, leaning forward.
And that...
That was apparently the moment I made the biggest mistake of my morning.
Because Morthen adjusted his glasses, inhaled deeply, and then tugged something out from behind the desk.
A scroll.
A scroll so large, so long, so heavy that when he pulled it up, it unrolled—out the office door.
Into the hallway.
And possibly down the stairs.
I stared at it.
He did not acknowledge my expression of horror.
"I thought there were seven families," I said weakly.
"There are," Morthen replied cheerfully. "But each family has dozens of notable houses, each with extensive records. We shall begin at the top."
He cleared his throat.
And started reading.
His voice was calm and monotone. It had a rhythm to it.
The first five names blurred together.
The next three melted.
My eyelids grew heavy.
My brain began to hum pleasantly.
Rin had somehow acquired a pastry and was eating it while sitting upside down in a chair.
Morthen continued reading the scroll like nothing was happening.
"...and the Third House of theHellfire Territory is further divided into thirty-six sub-branches, beginning with—"
His voice softened. Then deepened. Then became something like a lullaby.
I fought it. I truly did.
But the boredom...
The rhythm...
The droning...
The sheer length of that infernal scroll...
My head dipped.
My eyes closed.
And without even pretending to resist—
I fell asleep right on top of the books.