Divus Crewel

The girl's name is Naïka, and she's 13 years old. Like many children, she repeated kindergarten, but the thing is: she's super gifted, so at 13 she should be in seventh grade, but they've already skipped her to ninth grade, and she's on the school's honor roll. But don't worry, life isn't just about studying; in fact, when she's around certain close people, she simply puts her intelligence aside and goes on with her life. Naïka is a girl with wavy black hair, but she dyes the ends white and crimson red. Her eyes are black, but they look gray because she wears matte white contact lenses. The people at the orphanage are extremely stupid compared to her, and they think they're always right because they're adults, so she got a... special companion. She has three German Shepherds, who are ex-military dogs, and they take care of her 24 hours a day because she's still a child. Naïka dropped out of school years ago and studies from home, which has made her grades improve dramatically. Naïka is an extremely good cook, almost a pastry chef, she also plays keyboard and guitar, knows how to crochet, sew (in fact, all her clothes are made by herself using an old sewing machine and old fabrics), draw, paint, and takes acting classes, possessing a vocal power capable of shattering glass, but nobody there recognizes this talent; they say she needs to get a real job. Despite being incredible, she is also shy, has trouble fitting in, has a strange addiction to coffee, and is somewhat eccentric, in addition to being a tremendous nerd when it comes to astrology, botany, and marine biology.

The letterhead with the positive DNA test result still seemed to burn between Divus Crewel's gloved fingers. He, who had always prided himself on his impeccable posture and absolute control over any situation at the prestigious Night Raven College, felt the ground shake for a brief second. That thirteen-year-old prodigy, lost amidst the bureaucracy of an immigrant orphanage, was, without a doubt, his blood. His "little daughter," as his own subconscious ironically dictated. He tucked the document into the inside pocket of his two-tone fur coat and adjusted the whip at his waist, adopting his most imposing and intimidating posture. The employees there needed to understand, right away, who they were dealing with.

Upon crossing the gates of the orphanage, the scene he encountered displeased him greatly. The place exuded a suffocating mediocrity. People who considered themselves right simply because of their age, but who clearly had no idea of ​​the rough diamond they had under that roof. Crewel entered the administration room without knocking. The director, a man with a tired expression and gruff manners, looked up, visibly annoyed by the visitor's audacity. "Who are you? We don't have any appointments for adoptions today," the man said dismissively. “I didn’t come here to adopt, my dear,” Crewel replied, his voice sharp as a blade, as he slammed the DNA report right in the center of the cluttered table. “I came to claim what is rightfully mine. Naïka. And I demand that the custody papers be transferred to my name immediately.” The principal blinked, stunned by the professor's overwhelming energy. — Naïka? That weird girl? She's... complicated. She lives locked up, doesn't socialize, and frankly, those high grades in the work-from-home model must be some kind of cheating. She should focus on getting a real job and stop trying to be fashionable by sewing old rags. Crewel's eyes narrowed dangerously. The audacity to belittle his daughter's multifaceted talents—academic intelligence, high-fashion skills, culinary arts, and artistic abilities—right in front of him was unacceptable. "Silence!" Crewel's voice echoed in the room, making the man jump in his chair. "You are not competent to assess her genius. The fact that she is too brilliant for your limited understanding does not make her 'complicated.' She is a Crewel. Now, sign the terms before I decide to sue this institution for negligence and intellectual incompetence." With no alternative and intimidated by the temperament of the man in front of him, the director signed the documents trembling.

Crewel walked through the corridors to the secluded wing where Naïka used to stay. When he opened the door to the back patio, the scene he saw made him stop. There she was. Her wavy black hair with white and crimson tips—an aesthetic choice that Crewel himself secretly found extremely tasteful. She wore a perfectly hand-sewn coat, with a drape that many renowned designers would fail to replicate. Seated around her, like an elite guard, were three imposing German Shepherds, former military dogs, whose ears instantly perked up in alert at the stranger's arrival. Naïka raised her dark eyes, altered by the frosted white lenses that gave her a mysterious and eccentric air. She held a mug of strong coffee and a thick book on marine biology. "Stay calm," Naïka's voice sounded firm to the dogs, who relaxed immediately, though they kept their eyes fixed on the newcomer. She looked at Crewel, his shyness perceptible in the way he shrugged. "Who are you?" Crewel took a few steps forward, maintaining respect for her space and that of her four-legged guardians. He softened his rigid expression, allowing himself a rare, genuine smile. — My name is Divus Crewel, Naïka. And I am your father. The girl stopped, the coffee mug stopping millimeters from her lips. Her eyes searched his, noticing the obvious physical similarities, the posture, the magnetism they both shared. “I know this place never understood your potential,” Crewel continued, extending his gloved hand toward her. “But from today onward, things change. You don’t need to hide your intelligence, and you certainly don’t need to listen to ignorant people telling you what to do with your talents. Let’s go home. You, your sewing machines, your botany books, and of course… your three protectors. There’s plenty of room for all of us.”

Naïka looked at the outstretched hand, then at her dogs, who wagged their tails slightly, as if approving of the visitor. For the first time in years, she felt she didn't need to mold herself to fit into anyone else's world. She stepped off the bench, adjusted her handmade jacket, and walked over to him, ready for the next chapter of her life.

The transition from the noisy chaos of the orphanage to the quiet elegance of the Crewel residence was a thermal shock for Naïka. In the first few days, the silence of dawn was so profound that she would wake up startled, expecting the sound of thirty children running through the corridors. However, it wasn't long before her three German Shepherds took over as her official alarm clocks, bringing their icy noses close and letting out short grunts until she finally opened her eyes. Since the mid-year holidays had just begun, time seemed to move more slowly, giving father and daughter the space they needed to synchronize their worlds.

Nighttime quickly became their favorite time of day. It became a sacred habit: Naïka would sit on the fluffy rug in the bedroom, hugging Crewel's puppy tightly—who, despite being the youngest in the house, was already showing signs of inheriting the imposing presence of the family dogs. With extreme patience and a gentleness that few would imagine he possessed, Crewel untangled his daughter's black waves with crimson and white tips. He used soft-bristled brushes, transforming hair care into a moment of calm. "The secret to a good haircut and healthy hair, my dear, lies in the preparation before the rest," he commented, his voice low and rhythmic. "Never let the stress of the day tie knots in your hair. Or in your mind." Naïka simply nodded, feeling the weight of mental exhaustion lessen with each stroke of the brush.

Despite moments of peace, Naïka's internal dynamics were complex. Being gifted meant her cognitive abilities were at full speed, absorbing astrology, marine biology, and complex sewing techniques with ease. However, emotionally, she was still thirteen years old. At the orphanage, the adults tried to force her to "act like a normal child," turning play and relaxation into a mechanical obligation—which made her reject any attempt. Now, free from that pressure, she found herself in a constant mental struggle. There were days when the accumulated frustration of years seemed to overflow. In a moment of impulse, unable to process the flood of feelings, she would end up breaking or destroying some object of her own—a drawing that took hours to make or a piece of fabric she was shaping. Regret would come in seconds. The shock of reality would hit, and the tears would flow in a genuine and painful way. In those moments, Crewel didn't reprimand her with the severity he used in his classrooms. He understood the frustration of a mind that works too fast for the body to handle. He simply appeared, moved the pieces of the broken object aside so she wouldn't hurt herself, and comforted her. On the most difficult nights, when her room seemed too large and isolated, Naïka sought the reflection of security that her father provided and ended up sleeping there, in his room, curled up in a corner of the enormous bed, surrounded by the protective presence of her German Shepherds on the floor. Gradually, without haste and without obligations dictated by others, Naïka was learning that she didn't have to choose between being a genius or being a child. She could be both, in her own time.

The return to classes at Night Raven College brought a new dynamic to the Crewel family's routine. Since the holidays were over and Divus had no intention of leaving Naïka in the care of strangers—and she even less wanted to be separated from him—the solution was to take her along to work. The school offered accommodations and spaces reserved for faculty, making it feasible to keep her close during the school year, ensuring she wouldn't be isolated. In the institution's imposing corridors, the girl's presence drew attention, but in a very specific way. Naïka maintained her reserved demeanor, always accompanied by her unbeatable guard of three German Shepherds. The Leader and the Gang Coexistence within the school environment functioned under a silent and very clear rule. If any curious student or staff member attempted to make indiscreet comments about her presence or her exotic style, Naïka simply ignored them. She remained silent, impassive, and the dogs around her maintained the same controlled posture. However, there was an insurmountable limit. This dynamic was deeply connected to the essence of her own name. Of Sanskrit origin, Naïka carries the meaning of "leader," "female guide," or "the heroine." And, for those three former military dogs, she was exactly that: the absolute protagonist who needed to be protected at all costs. The Rule of Space: If anyone tried to break the barrier of respect and touch Naïka without her permission, the behavior of the group would change in a fraction of a second. The Answer: There was no need for commands or shouts. At the slightest sign of invasive physical approach, the three German Shepherds would step forward, positioning themselves like a living wall between her and the person. A low growl, coming from deep within the animals' chests, was enough to freeze anyone in place. Messing with the leader meant instantly activating the protective instinct of the entire pack.

Divus Crewel, witnessing these interactions in the hallways, couldn't hide the corner of his lips curving into a smile of approval. Seeing his daughter command respect and maintain control of her space—using both her own posture and the unwavering loyalty of her dogs—was proof that the Crewel blood and the weight of the Naïka name dictated the rules there. In the academic environment, she remained focused on her advanced studies and her creations, but now everyone knew that the young prodigy was in very good company.

The white part of Divus's hair is dyed. [ 11 ] According to Mozus Trein, Divus prefers dogs, but has great affection for all living beings. In addition to being a professor of Potions and Poison Refining, he runs art clubs. He uses a cologne of his own creation. He likes to eat raisin butter accompanied by alcoholic beverages. According to Crewel, it is best not to attach too much importance to the words in some paintings. Some of them deliberately try to deceive unsuspecting students. [12]

Despite his young age (32 years), Divus was a talented and highly skilled duelist during his magical combat training, demonstrating considerable dexterity in practice. He was able to single-handedly defeat some of the most formidable teachers and even survive ambushes by his companions. Nowadays, this anecdote is a source of ridicule and boasting among his students. [8]

He demonstrates remarkable mastery of potions, a highly complex, scientific, and dangerous branch of magic. He likely developed his talent during his school years. Furthermore, as a professor at a prestigious school, he possesses knowledge and skill in various areas of science and magic, which is commendable in the eyes of Malleus and Leona and serves as proof of his proficiency.

During his youth, Divus was a student at Night Raven College under the tutelage and mandate of Mozus Trein and Dire Crowley, which appears to have undergone no significant changes since his school days. [5]

Before that, Divus seems to have lived a full adolescence that led him to occasional problems and failures, driven by an impetuous, stubborn and ineloquent attitude towards rigid moral etiquette and attitude. At that time, he befriended two boys with whom he still keeps in touch and from whom he occasionally asks favors, although he refers to them as “minions”. [ 6 ]

Apparently, Divus had always been one of the best students in his class, with remarkable leadership and magical abilities. About fifteen years ago, in his second or third year of school, the Beanfest sports competition underwent an update to suit modern sensibilities and gained a more competitive format that met the students' needs. [7] Divus ended up entering the clothing industry as an official stylist, collaborating until he decided to return to teaching at his old school. To his disappointment, he discovered that Trein was still a teacher, however, this did not prevent him from being hired as a Potions professor.

Despite having abandoned his career in the fashion industry, Divus still maintains a connection with his former work. Occasionally, he designs and makes clothes for his students, as demonstrated at the Fairy Ball and the Porto Festival. With the help of his former clothing company, he keeps up-to-date on fashion trends, which value his advice and opinions on the upcoming season's fashion.

Since old cars are his hobby and he often looks for discontinued replacement parts with Sam, this is further confirmation. [ 3 ]

In general, he has a good relationship with the rest of the faculty, even with Crowley, but he often tends to disagree with Trein and it's not uncommon to see them teasing each other with caustic jokes. Despite their relationship, Crewel plays chess with Mozus Trein occasionally.

Divus Crewel has an ambitious, adaptable personality, determined to achieve success, careful with his image, and seems to excel in his career. He has a very uncompromising and strict side, but whenever his students are really in trouble, he tries to help and, unlike others, asks for nothing in return. He takes his role as a teacher very seriously and is unwilling to tolerate mistakes, however small, which is why he can be quite lenient and cruel with his disciplinary punishments. This can be seen when Crewel assigns Epel the task of collecting enough flower-lanterns, despite knowing that this task is impossible. [1]

Crewel tends to be a bit gruff with his students, but he actually cares about them and values ​​each one's personal growth. This is evident in the fact that he calls them "puppies," although not always affectionately. Since Crewel loves dogs, this nickname is his way of showing affection.

In several events, Crewel is seen helping students with various tasks, guiding them in the "right direction." Despite being a peculiar type, Malleus states that Crewel is also a teacher who explains things. He detests disrespect and tends to be much harsher on Grim, who has a tendency to get into all sorts of mischief and is unable to attend classes properly. [2]

Contrary to his more uncompromising side, he can be much kinder if he sees a sincere offer to learn and improve his school grades. However, this side of him does not allow for concessions when it comes to fashion. Being so demanding, he does not tolerate the slightest compromise when it comes to clothing and has very rigid opinions on the subject.

Divus's hair is parted to the side, with the longer strand white and the shorter one black. He has almond-shaped gray eyes and wears silver earrings. Underneath a thick black and white fur coat, Divus wears a tuxedo—consisting of a black dress shirt, red tie, black and white waistcoat, black dress pants, black dress shoes, and a black belt with a silver buckle, studs, and pointed details. He also wears red gloves.

It has several tail-like appendages hanging from the underside of its fur and is sometimes seen carrying a whip, used for teaching, with a red collar and a jewel pendant attached to the end.