Olivia bored into him with her vivid green eyes, the potent acid in them matching his own as she stared up at her nephew. The demoness was nary an inch in stature above five-four, and yet all the same she seemed to tower over her taller relation. Perhaps it was the shifty way in which he was standing, human hand deep in his pocket, claw clenched at his side, the spines on his arm and shoulders twitching with nervous tension, that made him seem so small in comparison to her.

"You need to go back to school." Her words rang with harsh finality, the diminuitive Nergal woman, hair tied back in a braid of dirty blond, was not at all a being to be trifled with. Most especially if one's name happened to be Sharra Eldwaithe.

He could hear the frustration in her tone, and the boil had borne her scoldings time and time again. Mind, it was different this time. They had loved him upon his return, had Olivia and Arynn. They'd baked him cookies and brewed huge pots of stew, making certain there would be leftovers for those days in which they were too busy to cook for their nephew. He'd wanted for nothing upon his homecoming.

But it had been months now, and they had come, together, to a realization. They had to force their little blond responsibility back out into the world lest he never reemerge into it. Sharra had all but shutdown in the past weeks, his habits listless and utterly devoid of care, both for himself and for the living world around him. In fact, he barely resembled the vibrant boy that they'd sent off. He'd seemed so damnedly happy when he'd gone to school, and his letters to them had been cheerful, cocky even. They had been ever so proud of him.

There had been some concern, of course, about sending him back...it seemed that the place had put the child in peril. 'Now now, that was an accident...' Arynn had soothed, she the optimistic voice of logic in the situation, 'And let's be honest now, will Sharra ever mature properly if he cannot face that which he fears? It's a common problem, really now, Olivia, you fret too much.' And she had turned back to her knitting, needles clacking away as her sister sat opposite, lips pursed into a frown of disapproval.

'Yes, but really! What sort of terrible human-spun concoctions might he be facing!?' Olivia would not be dissuaded so easily, wringing her hands faintly in her handkerchief, trying not to let her sibling see the nervous motion.

'You'll ruin the boy keeping him here, Liv.' Arynn spoke kindly, but her voice held an unshakeable sincerity, making the point that she had been fighting for for the past half-hour. 'He'll never be a man if we keep him under our skirts. He'll stay a lost little boy forever.' Her lips curled upwards in a coy smirk, 'Besides, you and I had our troubles at his age. A more tumultuous time. We loved, we lost, we fought with the best of them. The boy has to learn to live, sometime, and we can't teach him everything.'

And the younger nodded, some of the lines fading from her brow as her expression smoothed, finding calm in the brilliant blue of her sister's eyes. 'I suppose you're right. Doesn't mean I have to like it...' Turning with a whirl of skirts, she headed off towards the stairs, but she paused long enough to look over her shoulder. 'And so help me, that boy had better write!!!' She could hear Arynn chuckling as Olivia made her way up to deliver the news.

And that was what had resulted in this stand-off, a duel that Sharra was most effectively losing, as in a battle of the wills against his aunt, the youth was at a strong disadvantage. There were many things in this world, that his apathy gave him the ability to ignore, but his spirited aunt was not one of them. He didn't have the luxury. Ever since they'd taken him in as a tiny demonling, they had ensured that if nothing else, so help them, he would listen when they spoke.

Squirming in the same way one might expect him to had Nurse Cricket caught him playing truant, he sheepishly looked up at her, lips parting to mouth some sort of protest, to belay his sentence...

"Ah ah ah!" She waggled her finger up at him, the tip of a neatly manicured nail nearly tapping her nephew on the lips in a shooshing motion. "Don't you argue with me, young man, your aunties have conferred and this is final! You've been ignoring your studies long enough lazing about here! Now get out there! You're doing the Eldwaithe reputation no favors!" If she couldn't get him on sheer obligation she was most certainly going to pull the honor card. "No nephew of mine is going to drop out of school and sit on my couch all day, nosirree!"

The boil had shrunk back a bit at that and he rather meekly nodded. There really was no arguing with her, and once his aunts had made up their minds, well...if he didn't go they were entirely likely to box him up with his things and ship him back to school. "I'll pack my bags." There was a rather large amount of quiet defeat in the words, and his eyes traveled down to his bare feet, where they were likely to stick.

Olivia hmphed, and there was a second of silence...and then her arms were around him. "Silly boil..." She murmured, "I know you'll make us proud, you simply have to find yourself. Can't do that under our skirts." It helped, somehow, to repeat Arynn's words, it made their wisdom a far more tangible thing.

Releasing a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, Sharra's arms slowly moved to encircle the tiny woman, a breath of a smile touching his lips. "Thanks, auntie..." It was soft, gratitude towards her and Arynn for a whole multitude of things. Honestly, he'd never thanked them enough. He didn't have to like that they were sending him back to school, but...in all truth, it was for the best.

Not that there wasn't that nervous, quivering self-loathing lurking there, questioning everything about his existence. He was terrified...to see everyone again. To see his friends...to see Aksaja....to see Yaya.

But as he sat the next morning next to his amply-stuffed suitcase, he felt a wave of stubborn energy, his aunts' voices speaking in encouragement.

He'd find himself again. And everything else would fall into place, for better or for worse.

Good luck, Sharra Eldwaithe...