Chapter Text
She was hungry. So, so hungry.
The Headmaster had organized a marvelous show to go with her dinner, making her prey dance around on stage, showing off their delicious magic. It took all the self-control Number I had to sit still throughout their performances. Once the green-haired witchlet had finished demonstrating her delectable abominations, she made her move to feed.
As expected, her prey started fighting back, unwilling to fall into its Titan-given role as food. It’s a good thing Number I liked it when her lunch played hard to get. It was a grand feast; abominations, oracle spirits, plants, illusions, plants with illusions cast over them - oh , that last one was especially a delightful treat, none of the other academies she fed at had tried mixing their flavors like that!
Unfortunately, the very next thing she tasted was burning pain. That strange round-eared girl pulled out paper, somehow casting magic with them. Number I attempted to eat this paper magic just as she would any other spell, but it immediately caused an allergic reaction that made her mouth feel like it was on fire!
She had a brief respite, where she’d managed to chase round-ears into some odd door, allowing her to continue feeding on the other students with their normal magic. But shortly after, round-ears confronted her again, this time aided by two other witchlets and a dog. They somehow out-played her, leading her into a trap that forced her to vomit up all of her hard earned food.
Exhausted by the fight, Number I fell into a deep sleep, and when she woke up she once again found herself trapped within a cage. Panic flooded her blood, causing her to thrash violently against the bars of her prison, but the metal wouldn’t budge. Forcing herself to stay still so she could take in her surroundings, Number I was surprised to find she had not been returned to the Emperor’s Castle. The other cages around her were filled with other beasts, ones she could not identify due to a lifetime spent locked in a dungeon. Unlike the cold metal floor of her cell in the dungeon, this new cage was lined with hay, providing some amount of comfort. There was a trough providing a consistent supply of water, another privilege she was not privy to in the dungeon.
Number I heard a door unlock, and in walked a gaggle of prey. Students of the same academy she was defeated in, judging by their uniforms, following a tall biped demon with four eyes, bat-like ears, and curved tusks that pointed to the sky. Immediately, Number I attempted to siphon magic away from them, only to find her jaw was sealed shut by an enchanted muzzle.
“And here students, we have our newest addition to Hexside’s menagerie of beasts,” the tusked teacher spoke. “The Greater Basilisk. The natural predator of witches and biped demons alike, thought to have been hunted to extinction over 100 years ago.”
The students ooh’d and aah’d at the massive serpent that glared down at them.
“Now, you all likely remember this individual as the one that attacked our school the other day, so I shouldn't have to tell you to not get too close. Remember to observe from a distance!”
One of the students raised their hand as the teacher spoke, and Number I’s eyes shot open when she recognized the student as the round-eared girl!
“Hey, um, Mx. Daggerfang?” round-ears asked. “Is it really morally acceptable to keep her in a cage like this? I definitely remember hearing her speak the other day…”
“Ah, yes, I understand why you might mistake the basilisk for an intelligent creature, Ms. Noceda.” the teacher answered. “But these beasts are adapted to deceive. It is encoded in their very being to observe and copy the behaviors and customs of witches, so they can better infiltrate our groups and catch us off guard.”
“Isn’t that evidence in support of basilisks being intelligent!?” round-ears asked indignantly.
“Ms. Noceda.” the teacher sternly cut her off. “I’m the teacher here, not you. I’ll be more than happy to hear your criticisms once you’ve gotten your degree in beast-keeping, but until then, not a word.”
Round-ears folded her arms around herself and grumbled, but otherwise ceased her objections. The teacher then released one of the other beasts from its cage and instructed the class on how to care for the dense mat of fur coating it, but the whole time, round-ears kept glazing back towards Number I, a look somewhere between unease and guilt on her face the whole time.
Number I didn’t know what to make of the tight feeling in her throat that look gave her.