I should be dead.
What an odd first thought to pop into one’s mind upon waking. Princess Calia’s second thought wasn’t any better.
Why am I not dead?
Not having the courage yet to open her eyes, Calia listened to the eerie silence. For eerie it truly was, as when was a castle and capital village ever silent? There should be the chatter of workers, shouts of vendors, barks of dogs, squeals of children. There were no horses neighing. No clanging sounds of metal on metal as knights trained.
No agonized screams of people being torn apart and spine shivering shrieks of demons.
Calia tested the weight of her body, finding herself in an awkward position laying on cold rock. Her stomach ached in a way that suggested she’d not eaten in days, her clothes were stiff, caked with sweat and blood. Finally daring to crack open her eyes, Calia was first met with blurry vision. A misty cloud that took it’s sweet time in fading away to reveal iron bars and mossy stone walls, alight from a grey sky filtering through a high window. This was one of the castle cells.
Wrought with confusion all over again, Calia listened for the sounds of old drunks being frustrated about a night in the drunk tank. Disgruntled rogues serving a sentence. Rats. There should have at least been rats skittering and snooping for scraps.
The world was dead silent. What an apt punishment for her carelessness to be the only living breathing thing left in all of Caeldalmor. Hazy memories of those last moments looped through her mind, of blood and gore, of terror and regret. Everything she loved and valued was gone. That humble life she dreamed of, living in the castle with her family and being a Knight of Caeldalmor… gone.
There was no point in living now. Calia closed her eyes and let out a slow breath, almost willing the reaper himself to appear and take her soul off to the afterlife. One of the seven hells, most likely, for she’d allowed all of this to happen.
But why is she still alive!
Rolling onto her back with a soft disgruntled sound, her eyes blinked open again to stare at the ceiling. A burning itch in her eye was almost too much to ignore, causing her to lift her hand to rub it. As her sleeve slipped down her forearm, her brow furrowed at the dark markings of red down her wrist. There should’ve been some sort of dagger cut wound there. Or burns? Calia remembered the blood. But instead of poorly healed cuts or a scorched branding it looked almost like a tattoo of red ink.
Then there was that tugging. A nagging, hollow twisting deep in her chest. All at once, Calia remembered that too! Seeing that asshole standing there cackling amidst murder and chaos with her very heart in his hands. Her magic in his hands.
Now Calia knew why she was still alive.
The princess sat upright – not without a few fumbling attempts to force her body to move. Taking that hollow, empty feeling in her chest to replace it with something else. A little burning ember of pure determined hatred. His mistake was in letting her live, for Calia would not rest, would not sleep, until she tracked him down and killed him. She would travel to the ends of the world until her last breath left her body, and then she would continue on after death too if that is what it took.
She was going to make that man burn a hundred years for every single life he destroyed.
Shifting to her knees and climbing to a stand, there was quite a bit of awkward joint cracking and dizzying nausea that she ignored. At this point any normal person would be sobbing, and it did briefly cross her mind before she stuffed it away and locked the thought up tight. There would be no time for tears, only focus on her new mission. One step at a time.
And the current step was finding her way out of this cell. To which Calia stumbled over to the iron bars barring her way for a very impatient examination.
When had the last time truly been that someone had made a proper offering to that of even a singular one of his particular comrades, let alone thousands of them. Surely he couldn’t even begin digging down into that very memory without stumbling across various other branching paths that might distract him to the point of complete forgetting of the original purpose. Simply accepting that someone had been ever so gracious enough to offer enough of the unwilling sacrifices so that the very lands once laid heavy with seasons, was now in its fifth one. One of murder. Blood. Screams and delightful little reminders around every corner that they were given the figurative keys to the city.
Go, make merry!
Just, merry was only so much fun when apparently one had another plan in mind for that of himself. Of course he hadn’t agreed to it but there was only so much one could rebel in the face of any superior smugly grotesque pigface overlord. While he was certainly no imp quality beast of hellfire, he wasn’t the top either. A shame really. He had many plans and ideas that could have greatly increased the means of everlasting delight and torture for eons to come. Just someone had to see the eye to eye with him. Thus far, such a thing wasn’t in the cards.
Apparently people were busy with their own dismantling and lobotomies.
Some people really needed to learn the meaning of a free vacation. Workaholics they all were. Talk about a terrible bore that all was! Where was the fun. The pizzazz? The writhing bodies either in eternal torment or disfigured bliss? Surely not here even if he was forced to be settled to make no more than passing rounds because someone had decided that the festivities of skewering the humans on this lost mountain, needed some sort of watch. It was days like this, he cursed being that of a winged beast.
Although it did have its advantages.
He’d truly not been thinking about much besides in his maybe third or fifty pass overhead, he noticed the turn in crumbled hallway that looked like a splendidly perfect chance to slip away for some much needed break time. Scurrying quite literally upon the legs of plenty upon the wall. Tucking away the winged appendages under chitin shell so he might happily zoom forward to hide for a while. It was clear no one was coming around to check the area and if they did, well, he could say he was doing just that.
Clever, clever.
Just well… he hardly expected that his travels deeper into the safety net of avoiding doing any real work would have successfully lead him to well… a very much alive looking human. The smell of blood present was simply an added aroma that teased the fun of his mind. Making his brain itch in all the right ways, however, he was pretty certain he had no orders about how there was apparently someone confined downstairs. Likely forgotten? Someone’s after dinner meal?
Who the hell knew!
Only that he was in for a show it would seem. With a woman that could have been either a royal, a troupe performer or some little girl playing knight, had managed to get herself locked away. Had he been more interested in that, he could have done some digging. Instead, it seemed this girl was looking to look at the bars with evident intention of leaving them. Hunching belly against the cool stone, faceted eyes considered this new little dumpling.
And well, to antagonize. “Now here we be with quite the curious little display. What’s a wittle dandelion like yerself guna do in a place like this?” he mentally grinned, “Are we be thinkin’ of putting on a wee bit of a show of escape! I do hope you perform well, petal.”
Fantastic. Now she was going to hallucinate.
Calia could think of no other explanation for the sudden strange voice, for there certainly was no armor covered guard or horned menace stomping their way down the empty, scorched hall of the castle dungeon! Not a single prisoner tucked away in any of the cells, shuffling about to be an unwilling audience to her steadfast examination of the iron bars and how they were attached to the stonework with bolts and screws.
Still, she did give another wary slow look over her surroundings in an attempt to pinpoint just where this voice was echoing from. Not the window, as that was too high. It almost sounded like it was in the cell with her. A ghost, perhaps? The princess had never seen a ghost before, but there would certainly be potential for many now, wouldn’t there.
Hallucinating hurt less. Calia stuck with that.
“If you’re not going to say something useful, shut up.” she told the voice, her own sounding cracked and forced and dry. Well, there was a reason why she didn’t cry. Calia might as well have been a dried up husk at this point with the blood loss and lack of water. Her empty stomach almost growled it’s agreement, but even just the thought of food made her feel even worse.
Focus. One problem at a time.
This was the first cell of the row, which gave her one stone wall to the right and then a wall of bars connecting to the next cell on the left, and onwards to three other empty cells beyond that. Caeldalmor didn’t exactly keep a bustling dungeon full of prisoners. Temporary residents for petty crimes at worst, and then those that committed the more violent acts… well. Her father was just, but he still came from the old ways. Some deeds demanded a final punishment.
Calia wasn’t going to think about that right now, either. Focus.
Wrapping her fingers around the bars, she gave the door itself a good shake. Hinges were sound, no rust in sight. Her eyes followed the bolts in the wall, up long the ceiling where bars were set into stone, all the way to where they connected to the next cell before coming back to those bolts. Odd that she was so calm in her attempts to think, though it was likely shock and numbness to blame.
More things she didn’t want to think about. Suddenly that irritating little voice didn’t seem so bad.
“And where might you be hiding as such an enthusiastic witness?” she asked, pulling back from the bars to examine exactly what she still had on her that might be useful.
No weapons. No armor. She did have her signet ring on a chain around her neck, but that wasn’t going to be handy right in this moment. Calia took to turning and glancing around her cell for something that might be good and solid enough. Metal. Sticks. Bones. Blast these cells for being so empty and clean! If she had her magic, she could’ve just made the bars so ice cold brittle that they shattered! With a futile attempt, Calia tried just that. Gripping the bars again and seeing if she could touch that tiny spark… feeling nothing but emptiness and a tugging, light as a feather and oh so far away.
This was bullshit.
Oh feisty was she. Be steal his blackened little heart. Here he thought she just might crumble into a pile to ball fists into tear dripping eyeballs. While that could be fine, this was far better. After all, one could only tolerate a whiny little baby for so long. The feisty ones were always so much more tasty. A richer flavour even if she was seemingly looking for where he might be. Happily toddling along upon the roof till he could look at her directly above. Chuckling vibrantly when she so effectively told him to hush up. Well shut up, but same deal.
Looking the perfect part of damsel trying not to look like she had no control of the situation. When that was exactly it.
No control.
It was always the brave or the valiant ones that died the best. Dramatic poetic feats that were so unnecessarily gaudy, that even he couldn’t resist a grin at it. Just, he hoped she wasn’t about to suddenly flop over in such a way because honestly, it was slightly boring now that others were out complying with the elders demands and requests.
It didn’t take too long after her attempt to shake the bars loose before asking just to where he might be. Spurring another chuckle. She seemed to be trying to do something about the cell she had been locked inside without any clear indication of how to get out; he ever so helpfully decided he could help himself to a new roost.
Fluttering open the delicate wings from their protective shell, buzzing downwards to ever so helpfully roost himself upon messy crown. Pre-emptively ready to fly away should she attempt to take a panic swatting at him, shaking little oblong body to settle upon her with a hum. “Now how is it yah be plannin’ on escapin’ such a place, petal? Don’t yah be knowin’ beyond these walls is frought with all sorts of demonic goblins. Unless yer eager to meet that of yah maker, I don’t be suggestin’ such bullheaded gallantry.” Although the idea was highly enticing, “Unless yah be thinkin’ it would be a fine way to die. Then please, I am still waitin’ for a show.”
Calia did not much care for the soft chuckling at her expense. Surely her own mind would not be so cruel and callous as to mock her! But her curiosity of just where that voice was coming from was soon answered by the faint buzz of an insect’s wings, and to her dawning…. apathetic? realization that it was dropping into her hair of all the horrifying places.
Only, Calia wasn’t horrified. She should be, as the princess very much hated creepy crawly little insects and they way they so enjoyed getting themselves stuck in her hair and accidentally squished! There ought to be shivers up her spine and the instant flailing to avoid it roosting upon her at all! It wouldn’t have been dignified, elegant, or lady like, but that was what she’d have typically done.
Apparently, Calia had no more fucks to waste on little annoying bugs, she decided. The worst of the worst had already happened, there was no use in being afraid of anything now.
“…I don’t much care for your way of talking.” she announced instead. It’d be easy enough to reach up and squish the damn thing, and it was lucky she had no desire to add bug guts to the rest of the filth that was all over her.
A tiny part of her also seemed to be latching onto the fact this was the only other voice around. Whatever it was – and she had a sinking, vicious thought that it might be a demon, as there sure as hell was nothing else around alive and living – it wasn’t yet a threat. If it became a threat, then, well. It’d be dead in an instant.
Once again she reminded herself to focus. One problem. This cell.
Even if she took out the bolts that held the iron to the side wall, all of the bars lining down the hall were still firmly in place and wouldn’t let it fall. Getting the door loose was the best option… There were no pins in her hair to attempt picking at the lock – not that she was very good at it. Inner castle doors were easier to pick into with whatever manner of pointy thing and a little patience. Cell doors, not so much!
Bringing her back to the hinges themselves. Calia set her attention to those, stepping up on one of the lower cell bars so she could get a better look at the top hinge. If they were welded together, she was screwed. However, if it was nothing more than bolt all she’d have to do is figure out how to pop it out! She fussed at it with her fingers to test.
“If I were eager to meet my maker, how many of these demonic goblins might I find once I make my way up the stairs?” Calia dared to ask. The more she knew, the better. Even if it was coming from a boisterous little demonic beetle.
“But yah ain’t exactly proving nothing but commentary to reply to.” Faceted eyes considered that of the messing tresses that were the perfect little place to make a bird or rats into. If he were into that sort of thing, though he’d much rather get his fingers knotted up into it for a firm grip instead. Tugging one to their knees to either see the fear in their eyes or how prettily they liked to beg for mercy. Small things that tickled one’s little fancy. Alas, he was slightly stuck as he was currently till either one of the elder demons decided that he was of better use in a larger form or well… a sort of agreement was adhered too.
Admittedly the latter wasn’t much to go on considering anyone who was worth a hill of beans had long since become lunch meat for hungry gullets. It was bad business for one of his particular dealings not to have contracts and willing pathetic souls wanting to do anything to survive.
Or… well maybe this was in fact a lucky sort of day for that very reason.
All the more motive to conveniently use that of head as his throne for speculating. Idly cleaning hands for the means of something to do, it was wise for him to be vigilant as to which way she decided to move. It would not be fun to be pat-patted to a pancake because she got suddenly the ick due to a near palm sized bug in her hair.
It was interesting though that this dame was seemingly liking the idea of trying to leave the safety of the bars. She was better inside from the larger demons that roamed than out of it. She didn’t even look capable of swinging around her leg, let along something that might be considered a weapon. But that was slightly biased. All humans looked the same.
Especially the women folk. Breasts and well… what else was good about them besides their nethers and blood?
He couldn’t find a singular care to discern face to face. They were simply either a good fuck, a good contract or a good meal. Sometimes they provided a delightful show of misery but even that was shortlived to the point that it was more pathetic than entertaining.
This one thus far had pluck still. So while he was supposed to be scouting around like some common housefly messenger, he found his little hideyhole had a fun bit of interest. And interest it was. “Yah be eager, otherwise yah wouldn’t be attemptin’ to leave the only place that has kept such from licking yer feeties, dumplin’.” A flutter of wings and he scooted forward. Drooping down using her bangs as a hold to slide further so he could look at her eye to eye. “The demonic goblins are the wee one’s. Ankle biters and plenty of them. While yah wanna be cautious, it ain’t them yah gotta be worryin yer pretty little head over. It’s the biggun’s. Ones that will look at yah with the same consideration a fat soured king looks at a toothpick. Sticking it between gapped teeth.”
He wiggled somewhat in obvious amusement. “What’s it worth to yah though to be gettin’ outta here alive? Surely it isn’t just to test yer legs for runnin’, now is it?”
There was something absolutely demented about hearing pet names from a winged demonic beetle! Calia wasn’t exactly keen on hearing them from any normal mortal either, so this was setting her into a strange sort of… something. Annoyance? Disgust? It was hard to feel anything at the moment!
Although the second it sidled it’s way down in front of her face, she felt the very strong almost irresistible intrusive thought to headbutt it into one of the metal bars.
That’d be a literal headache she didn’t need right now.
Calia swished her hand to brush the chatty little demon bug out of her face, letting out the smallest of huffs.
“For one who talks so much, you certainly don’t have anything of value to say,” was her retort. Both to be deliberately rude, and because it was truth. Though Calia could not hear any roaming beasts out and about, that didn’t mean they weren’t going to be out there hiding around corners or prowling across the countryside. He didn’t need to detail their shapes and sizes, nor how dangerous and blood thirsty they were. Calia already knew. She might have seen it through a haze of blinks and stumbles, but she knew.
Skin of crimson red. Black horns. Maws of pearly teeth. Charging wolf like shapes. Torsos of men with goats legs. Lizards, and kobolds, and tieflings and all manner of grisly shapes. All sharing a dastardly goal of shredding everything within reach!
All she needed was a sword, Calia wasn’t afraid to die.
…in fact, that was the first burst of actual sudden fiery feeling since she’d opened her eyes in this cell. Calia was not afraid to die, and she was going to happily, gleefully, leave behind a landscape of demon bodies if she had to!
“I imagine you have self serving plots of your own then,” she spat, that annoyance finally starting to show through. Ignoring him visually now in favor of taking out her signet ring, finding that it was just the right size to slip over the bolt on the iron hinge, as long as she left the chain through it too. Wrapping it around the head for the leverage and trying to give it a good hard twist. It didn’t budge yet, but Calia was onto something here!
“You’ll what? Wiggle your little buggy body into the lock to let me out? In exchange for a finger? Blood? A soul? A worthless offer if, as you say, your brethren are scrawling across the castle grounds looking to scavenge whatever living morsel they can find.”
“I’m not tryin’ to give yah value.” Evidently he didn’t mind talking after all, “Just givin’ yah the chance to be hearin’ my lovely voice, petal. It ain’t often human’s get such a privilege.” Whether or not he believed such a thing was a jubilant thing to have, he wasn’t saying otherwise. Simply considering the woman now that he had a better placement to look at both grim, frustration and a hint of prettiness that was beneath it all.
Any other time, he was certain that if an opportunity had arisen, she’d be a spicy little treat to have some fun with. Alas, neither one of them were in any shape for that and well, he wasn’t the sort to kiss and tell immediately either.
Content to answer her question even if she was suggesting he had nothing to offer, he felt it was quite the opposite. He could prattle on about anything else and leave her to find out once she escaped –if she escaped- what sort of hulking mass of hungry beast would track her down first. But he stated some obstacles in the form of the large demons that would stomp about with a gleeful delight when she appeared.
Scrubbing hands again, the buggy beast decided to climb further. Using the strands of hair to turn and descent along cheek to neck to shoulder. Moving along the length with obvious interest to how she was working that of ring over a bolt. Seemed like an awful lot of work for a painful death. Sometimes humans really didn’t make a lick of sense. Such fleeting creatures. “Of course. Boredom is a fearsome foe, lark. And I be one with the boredom something awful.” He wasn’t about to deny that he had self serving plots. Turning self a bit to flutter wings before she was seemingly amused to tease just how he might do something. “Now now, don’t be so quick to judge what yah be lookin’ at. Ain’t yah ever heard, don’t judge a book by its cover. Mortals these days. Being so quick to look once and determine everythin’ from there.”
Opening to fly then as if he were getting a feeling she was about to swat at him, he mounted a iron bar. Crawling up high. Stopping and crawling back down like the means of inspecting was so important. “Yah want out. Simple. I want entertainment. Also simple. Just yah won’t be providin’ much of that if I be lettin’ yah out. Aye, yah might be a sort that screams real pretty like but at my age, such things aren’t the same any longer. So I am sure we could… come to a mutual agreement of benefit to another. It may only cost some blood every now and then, I don’t deal in the department of souls. Too fussy and hard to capture even after death.” He was looking at her again, making a shaking motion on the bar. “I ain’t no small ranked demon, darlin’. Ain’t high rank either but certainly strong enough that with a wee wittle agreement, yah and I could be quite the fun little duo. Yah can use some of my powers for yerself. Magic, well… dark magic but magic. And maybe a few other tricks that could be useful for survival. All yah have to do is feed me every so often and well, be a good little girl. I don’t care what yah be doin’ with my power, so long as I get to enjoy not being as well… this.”
Another shake was indication of his form. “One contract, dear. One itsy bitsy contract of blood and yer be having my power and I, get my other forms. Entertainment. Demons aren’t… that loyal to another. All yah gotta do is offer the right price. What’s a bit of blood anyways compared to sittin’ down here. Hmm?”
If he could have winked, he would have. “Promise, I ain’t too bad to look at either. Yah can even name some terms if yah be willin’.”
There it was. The anger. Who knew it would be such a welcomed feeling to feel, well, anything at this point! Anger about his uppity little joyous attitude when everything was shambles around her. Anger about the stupid little names he called her that’d be endearing if he wasn’t a monster in a beetleskin. Anger that she currently didn’t have enough physical strength to turn a goddamned bolt, while he prattled on endlessly more still about being BORED of all the damnable things.
Anger than this was a tempting offer at all.
Calia didn’t reply at first, beyond a derisive snort. Still trying her best at twisting and wriggling that bolt to get it to move from the iron hinge. For a second she’d thought maybe it finally moved, but that couldn’t just as easily been oil and sweat on her hands. Cracked dried blood making things sticky.
Blood and entertainment was all he asked for in exchange for things that felt way too good to be true. Was this what Derrick had built himself into? After reading that cursed book and studying it’s magics? Did he give his own blood to make a deal with demons? He’d needed her blood, though. And a decimated kingdom overrun with demons was the result. The stupid prick likely didn’t have anything worthwhile of his own to offer, or else he’d severed his soul long ago to get this far.
Another angry sound slipped out and this time the bolt actually DID move. Smugness was a new familiar sensation she was happy to have back.
“Oh, that is so tempting,” she responded dripping with obvious sarcasm. Calia even almost smiled. “Unfortunately, I am not a good little girl.”
A bolt of iron dropped to the floor, and though she might’ve scraped her fingers up pretty bad to get it loose, that was still one bolt down. Calia knelt down on a knee to start on the second one.
“Nor do I need your brand of help,” she declared with all due confidence. “I’ve seen what dark magic does to people. Seen what magic in general can do. And by the way you’re bragging, you’re likely as attractive as a troll’s unwashed ass. So, no thank you.”
That insult she threw in out of pure spite.
Oh how he shuddered at the eventual decline, granted he had looked at the bolt on the floor when it dropped out. Only what, a thousand more to go? Wow, she would be the ripe age of seventy by the time she escaped if she didn’t die of hunger or someone else came to fill their own.
There was never any real fun when they had been so eager to agree to just about anything. Sell the soul of their grandmother for a bite of sour meat? Yeah, he’d seen it. But this one, was still so plenty ripe with pride that she wasn’t even seeming to consider the predicament she was in. “Oh? Yah don’t?” he chuckled seeming amused by being called a troll’s unwashed ass as he lazily crawled around some more. “So then yah be havin’ a plan for getting outta here? Dealing with the plethora of demon’s single handedly, like some grand hero from a fable. Like the all mighty redeemer himself, steppin’ out with sunshine sproutin’ outta his arse yellin’ all sorts of mercy nonsense when the odds are quite probably ten thousand to one. But yah don’t be needing my brand of help.”
He even made an effort of using one of his buggy arms to tap what was probably a cheek in some form. “How’s the lack of assistance being goin’ so far? I mean it must be goin’ famously if yah managed to be put down here while the rest of the place was slaughtered. Okay, we then yah not be mindin’ if I do my duties of being a buzzy beetle and notifyin’ the local hungry guard that there be one little lass left in a cage for them to shake, rattle and roll?”
“Yah got this then? I didn’t think my offer was so terrible, if yah wanted to live.” Sucking his cheek… did he have cheeks? Fuck that was nothing to think about, he click clacked fabled tongue. “So this was fun but if yah got it all handled, then I’ll just let yah be meetin’ said former maker. Yah be tellin’ him we unsavoury sort be sayin’ ‘ello. Coz yah be not needin’ help. Yah be lettin’ me hear yer hubris later when it is screaming in hot angry and body splitting glory. Coz yah know… yah made it so far without my type of help. Though before I go buzzing away tell me… what kind of help has been successful thus far? Did it help yah save others? Or did it just save yerself? I just be a curious little bug, yah know.”
As far as a conversation with a demonic beetle were to go, it was everything Calia expected. Insulting and rude, Weaselly. Twisting little bards her way to make her feel helpless and stupid. Except, this chatty idiot didn’t have enough information. Damn, Calia didn’t even have enough information, but she sure as hell had a bigger head start than this one did! For if Calia was still alive, that meant there was a reason. Maybe the spell that traitorous bastard cast to drawn out all those demons hinged on her continued existence. Maybe the theft of her magic could only be done for as long as she was living.
Nothing was going to come down here and eat her. …things would get dicey once she was out, Calia was certain. For if this nitwit didn’t know ‘the plan’ it was just as likely the ones stuck prowling around a dead kingdom wouldn’t know either.
The second bolt was just as much trouble as the first, cutting through her skin enough to draw a thin line of blood before it even got close to being loosened. There would be only one more from there, and then she ought to be able to pull and shake the door loose.
Yet his continued rambling finally struck a nerve – a painful, raw place of vicious truth. An instant instinct of reaching down deep and hand raised with what would’ve been sharp frosty magic cast right into his little buggy exoskeleton until he was nothing but a beetle of ice.
…nothing came out.
That impotent hand gripped the iron right below the hateful little beast as she glared daggers of dark evergreen at his winged existence.
“My magic is why you’re here at all, you irritating little shit,” Calia hissed. “My magic created this mayhem. So you want to make a deal? I don’t just want out. I don’t want to just survive. I don’t want to make a deal with some bored, blowhard, DUMBASS only to find out he’s not worth even being the bone that other demons pick their teeth with. If you have magic that rivals my own, then you can have my blood and you can follow me to the ends of the earth for all I care. Otherwise, you can fuck right off!”
He had said he was bored! Which meant he would talk, talk, talk all day long. Because even if he was killed here, he’d just come back to life down there. One step up to an open portal after and tadaaa, he’d be back here. Maybe not instantly but close enough to the fact that watching whatever the hell he had said strike that tender nerve, she had reached up to do something.
A glorious absolutely nothing of something. “Ooooh scary.” He mocked through that of a monotone draw. Daring to clean his little fuzzy hands in the same way someone might look at the their nailbeds. Unfazed by her anger because if she was really about to squish him, she’d done it already.
Instead he started to hum a merry little tune. Wiggling his body around with all the decorum suitable for a everyday bubble back whilst madam snarlyface began to huff and puff and fail to blow the house down. Giving him some fun information that apparently her magic was why they had all been gifted the first class ticket to topside town. Of course he was properly interested in hearing that but not about let it seem as such. Considering he was just sort of tra-la-laing along.
Till the oh so delicious part of her anger decided it wanted to prove that she had given his idea some thought. Maybe not concrete thought but enough that that greedy little curious part of her had latched onto it. And she was willing to well.. make a deal with the devil.
“Rivals that of your own?” Airily he laughed. Springing forward to flutter upon hand, “I might not be an elder demon but you’ll find out why even I am restrained to this form by those who are.” Merry excitement glittered in that of voice. Turning around and dancing little feet along hand to where she had ever so helpfully pulled skin to bare its crimson fruit. A thin line but suitable for just a taste. “Make a deal then, dumplin’. And yah be findin’ out right quick just how strong my own magic be. Alongside plenty of added bonus that no mortal human gets just willy nilly.” After all, he would be her contractor. Her patron. She would be able to use his powers as her own. Supernatural senses. Strength and endurance. Agility and defense. Alongside a plethora of spells that were of the dark elemental variety but ever so helpful.
“Show me that finger, lass. And yah can take my powers for yerself. Just remember, my payment is blood every once in a while.” Waiting a moment more, “Well?”
Calia watched as he roosted and shimmied along her hand, just as proud as a bug could be. The frustrating truth was that no matter how smart and determined she was, in the end she was going to get out matched by brute strength and her own gods be damned magic. Even if she did follow the faint tug of her heart, managed to survive escaping this castle and whatever else she met along the way seeking it… by the time she got to the sorcerer that was once her friend, he’d easily squish her with her own magic. Like she was nothing better than this dingdong demon that thought he was so clever.
Still, Calia came up against the wall of hesitation. For she’d been naive enough before. Fatally so. Deals always came with a catch, no matter who was offering them. Demons, fae, djinn, witches, and more! Blood wasn’t going to be the only price. Would it be something Calia couldn’t stomach? Would it be worth it?
Fuck it. This demon had no idea the depths that Calia could go. For nothing more than the price of blood? Blood she was going to willingly spill until she completed her mission! Whatever consequences that came to pass, she would deal with them and this jerkoff demon was going to come to realize that a catch can run both ways.
Regret was already accruing even when she turned her hand palm up to reveal those damaged fingers. Regret, uncertainty, and a wicked spark of something vicious coming from that empty hole the bastard left in her when he stole her magic. Not fear, though, oddly enough Calia no longer held space for fear!
“Prove it,” she finally said after the long thoughtful pause. “It’s a deal. Just you remember, that this was your own idea when things start to get dicey.”
So effortlessly, so nonchalant did the fluttering laugh exit that of nonexistent lips. If she was intending to bluff or startle him away with such a threat about how things could get dicey, then she was about to learn just how dicey a demon’s world would be. There had been no lie when he expressed that loyalty amongst demons wasn’t overly a thing. They’d align for common goals but in the end it truly was a dog eat dog empire.
One that was so easy to capitalize on too.
Well she would find out. Right now the time of thinking was finalized. And he was hardly one to test the waters again. Happily scurrying forward to let that of mandibles expand from the orifice to happily press their slickened leak reach and grasp hard upon the one finger in particular. Latching on with a greedy intent. Sticking the means of barbs from the feelers upon not so delicate flesh. And biting to dig into that of red. Pinchers digging to burn and tug the velvet red past gullet into wherever the hell his stomach was in this form. Happily as a fly over a mound of shit, he was by no means polite about it! Taking a few good pulls before holding tightly a moment longer. Feeling the burn delight his insides and to see the handy work of bound mark sear itself about digit.
After a moment, he fluttered away from her. Leaving his branding behind in a crimson unslightly burn so he could land on the outside of the bars. Scuttling around on the floor, mostly listening to what could or couldn’t be heard.
Then in a perfectly dramatic pop of shimmering shadow, beetle turned to that of misty shape. Broadening, developing and measuring itself up and up and up till it could coalesce once more into a presentation of towering horned beast thus more. Idly smoothing off the duds of clothing and seemingly beetle skinned gauntlets. Flicking that of violet gem hues to the lady in the cage as he offered her a oh so easy crooked grin. Shortly rubbing a clawed finger upon red lined eyelid as the shaggy navy crown was ruffled with a bare shake of head. Stretching and making a over elaborate scene. And turning to then look along the hallway. Considering the space only that he directed an eye over shoulder at her, “Well, yah be comin’ along dumplin’?” Asking her even though she was still within the cage. “If yah wanna make a wee bit of haste, it would be advised. If I can find yah down here, others will eventually. And now it would be such a pain to deal with others when we are about to be the best of friends.”
Once more feet pivoted on tiles to face her directly. Arms reaching up to loop behind head leaving the pulsating glow of blueish horns to give little light to the space. “Surely yah be feelin’ different enough already to know that little of human creation stops yah now.” A reach of foot gave a bar a bit of a kick. Indicating that she might be able to leave the cell with a bit of brute strength.
Calia couldn’t fathom how a jeweled winged beetle could seem enthusiastic about a meal, but damned if that wasn’t exactly what it looked like. A perky bug with a robust feast all right there literally within her finger tips. Leaving the princess as an impassive witness to what she expected would end up being some sort of showy bullshit, but truly only ended up being a very painful chomp deep enough within the skin that she flinched and nearly slapped her other hand right on top of him to squish his soul out of existence.
She should have squished him.
That very thought continuing as he scrabbled out beyond the bars and in a spectacle of mist and shadow took a new shape. And for the first time an animated expression crossed Calia’s face, instead of the of the blasé blankness and cold rage-filled staring. Her nose wrinkled up and the girl had all the offense and disgust of someone who’d just watched someone take a shit on the kitchen table. Of all the forms he could’ve taken! A monster would’ve been preferable to some horned pretty-faced dingdong!
“Great. A man,” she muttered, without even a hint of hiding her disapproval. Flexing her hand and wiggling her fingers as her gaze dropped down to the new mark that had burned it’s way into her skin. Blood red ink etched in as a symbol of this ill-begotten alliance.
…that gave a menacing new clue to the one on her wrist. Calia had a sinking feeling that the mark was a separate problem from her missing heart.
Yet another thing to tackle later.
Evergreen stare moved back up to the annoyance outside of her prison cell, continuing on with his stupid endearments as he made the not so subtle suggestion that she could power her way through this door now if she so wished. Even against her instant repulsion at such an idea of using demon magic, the princess could not help reaching and testing exactly where it was and how to pull the threads.
Again, that full range of visible expression came as she scrunched up her shoulders and appeared as if someone had doused her with a bucket of something vile! For vile was exactly how it felt! …spicy, turbulent, prickling. Like ants running up under her skin! So completely opposite to the soothing, natural feel of her own magic. Magic that was meant to be as soft as a summer breeze. As crisp and invigorating as an autumn day. Peaceful and serene this demon magic was not.
Be it spite or pride, Calia did not use this magic to barrel down the iron door. In fact, it was a very pointed stare at him before she returned to the bolts in the hinges. Granted, plucking out the bolts now was breeze. No struggle to find the strength to twist and toss. It was simply the principal of the thing, to prove – at least in the terms of getting out of that cell – Calia could’ve done it on her own with a little time. With bolts pulled out, it didn’t take any demon magic to tug at the bars to pull the door loose and step aside as it clattered to the stone ground.
Calia gave him the middle finger as she stomped past. How delightfully convenient that was the one to bare his damnable mark on her!
“Ha.” Sounding the laugh out in his best jubilant mock to her clear disapproval. She could be displeased all she wished for, this was the form that was best for him. After all, he was looking for entertainment and damn well he was going to use this near human façade to get exactly that. The only difference was, what she seen would be different than what other’s seen. At least most. And those who could see the horns would typically been described as loon’s anyways.
Not his problem.
And it seemed his new little wet cat of a pet, was going to be just so utterly vexing. Like her stubbornness was about to made him so upset at all. Actually, it was better that she was a soured cow because it was so monotonous when that of his little contractor was prone to tears and mousy whimpers. Boy they grew old fast.
This one was spicy. Snarling and bitch lathered like bad-tempered lye. Making him properly curious to what sort of nonsense she would try at any given moment. Which apparent in this moment, was she was going to stare at him while she went about twisting the bolts off the once more.
Wrinkling his nose at her with sweet bemusement, the clatter of heavy door was certainly loud and unnecessary. “Is that an invite, petal? Hand it over and I’ll make yer knees properly knee with a few licks.” Purring noisily at the offering of middle finger, he toddled a few steps behind her. Suddenly taking to whistling lowly.
It was so nice to have lips once more!
Eventually though, “Well now what is the plan of action, Princess?” he gave her a knowing look before eyes of violet shrank in such a knowing way. “Will we be going after that of yer bastard friend? Or a jolly widdle waddle about? All that power now at yer fingertips is beggin’ for some fun.” Just he suddenly pointed at her, “And don’t be thinkin’ for a moment yah can be usin’ my talents against me. Not part of the contract, dandelion. This is a no magic zone.” Apparently a contract meant he got information from her. Learned things that were fresh in her mind and that included just who she was and of course, her loathing to a particular man that had stolen her magic to bring them all on vacation. In turn, she did get to know who he was as well. A give and take, learning that he was a third rank demon that was thankfully rather powerful. Just unfortunately for her, also a terrible flirt and a trickster to boot.
Skills with elemental dark magic and a bit of illusionary skills paired with unnatural bodily strengths and a name. A bane to other higher demons, Archimedes. She’d learn that he was forced to his buggy appearance because he had maybe stolen that of another higher demon’s lover recently and was made to be a bug for his insolence.
Wasn’t she lucky!
Fucking fantastic, a pretty faced, egotistical flirt that was well and thoroughly amused with his own sense of humor. Bound to her by dark magic and now going to be on her heels regaling her with his plucky wit and unwanted opinions! What a shame there wasn’t a court left to attend, as she could just set him loose on the posh lords and ladies simply to watch the chaos that followed.
“You talk too damn much,” she muttered, otherwise doing pretty well to ignore his chattering. Only starting to slow her determined pace when he seemed to suddenly know so much more than he had in moments prior.
He wasn’t wrong, Calia was absolutely considering using his own magic against him.
Soon finding this was indeed a two way street, in a strange ebb and flow of information. Of thoughts? Lord, Calia hoped not! While she herself didn’t give two shits if he read into her mind – there were no secrets there, her intent was obvious – the last thing she wanted to know was anything more about this demon. This Archimedes.
Who apparently was such a huge problematic slut that he was a scourge to his own kind.
Calia let out a long, world weary sigh. There wasn’t any going back now, another poor choice made and now she’d manage the consequences. At least allowing herself the honesty that even despite that spicy, foreign feeling of his magic it helped fill that void where he own had been ripped away. He thought so highly of his own power, Calia had every intent to put it to the test and see just how far she could go. There was a strange sort of freedom in knowing there was no reason to conceal or have restraint.
Having grown up the castle, Calia knew every hall, twist and turn like the back of her hand. Taking them immediately to where the guardsmen would keep their gear and weapons in storage, without any sort of suggestion that she cared about being stealthy and unseen. She pushed open the door with a blatant disregard for her own safety and headed straight for the weapons that lined the wall. None of the armor down here would fit her – that would be her next stop – but for now she needed solid steel in her hands.
One couldn’t rely on magic alone. In fact, now that she was here, there was no reason not to put this little bond through the ringer. The first dagger she picked up went flying, and she might’ve been a little slow on the draw after all that had happened, but her aim for his head was still true as could be!
“Yah get use to it.” Offering back his insight about the means that he talked rather generously, he truly did wonder what sort of fun she was going to offer him. Thus far, he was having oodles of it. Knowing that while the contract would certainly drain on him in various ways, she was proving to be quite the fetching bit of entertainment. Although he had not suspected her to be a princess. That was just added knowledge now in his head bid by that of the blood contract. Equally surprised that she had not been entirely lying that her magic had been absconded to the point of opening that of a plenty portal from hell. Giving them as ravenous beasts access to the world that was typically hard to get into.
Less some dumb bimbo found a black book. Reading things out of it for shits and giggles, till it became shits and screams!
They were shortly walking along the means of what was that of the ruined castle and he was merely appreciating the different point of view. Being a bug certainly had its advantages but really he did like having two legs rather than four or six. However, this place was about as interesting as a Sunday school lecture with a false priest that happily lusted after every nun in the damnable place. It was no longer a product of regal presentation and Calia appeared to have something in mind that had them toddling along to what seemed to be shortly detailed as a former armory.
In turn he was plenty curious to look around.
Curious to what sort of weaponry was presentable in the location. Nothing too ostentatious that was more for show than use, it would seem his acerbic little dumpling was about to test some bonds between them. It may have been a bit showy for him to tilt his head a bit to let the thrown dagger bounce off a horn, as he turned to look at her dully. “Best to note, princess. That if yah kill me or well anyone does, I go back to hell. And yah simply die. So yah might not wanna be playin’ with the blood bond between us.” Arc pivoted on his heels to dip and pick up the dagger that had been thrown at him. Feeling its heft. The coolness to it and then throwing it at the floor like casual trash. “Blood. Bond. Yah get benefits from me. But that all ends if I,” Slicing a clawed finger over his neck, “Perish. And I don’t quite recall how excruciating it will be for yah. Just that losin’ a contract means well, my magic doesn’t have a suitable conduit anymore. Use yer imagination and yah get the idea hmm?”
Flashing her a toothy grin, easily stepping forward so that he could encroach upon her personal space. Snapping out a hand to grab cheeks to pinch them hard. “Be nice, Calia. It’s no skin off my ass to die but yah’d be wishin’ to perish quickly if it were to happen. Yah made the deal after all, how about yah stop tryin’ to see how much pain yah wanna learn.” Releasing her cheeks, Arc tucked his hands back behind that of his head. Looking down at her. “Yah seem clever, maybe stop wastin’ what yah got and start plottin’ to use it for somethin’ better.”
“You make a lot of assumptions for a demon,” she answered, seeming to teeter on this fine line of deciding exactly how mad she was about to get. Calia did not take kindly to people touching her uninvited, and he had a real talent for sounding like a know-it-all condescending ass. Granted, perhaps it was easy to assume that one in a desperate situation was liable to make a host of stupid ill-thought decisions. Hell, that’s they’d both landed here in the first place.
Yet there was a method to her current state of madness and she’d learned what she needed to know.
Don’t kill the demon. Worse even, Calia would have to protect him if she wanted any chance of hunting down an even bigger ass. There was no fear in her of what might happen to herself – another concerning problem because in her head she knew she SHOULD be scared – only a frustration in knowing this wouldn’t be a solo endeavor.
“Fuck,” came her emphatic declaration when she turned away to hunt herself a proper weapon. Which at least meant that the numbness of her feelings were slowly ebbing back to something a little more akin to human. Only now, Calia wasn’t so sure she wanted them back. Unbridled rage would be a comfortable place to sit in, for if these feelings kept flooding back in, it would only be a matter of time before the gravity of all that happened would hit her like an avalanche of stone. All of that needed to be stuffed into a mental box and not see the light of day until she finally succeeded in her vengeance.
Then she could drop dead and this demon could fuck right off.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” continued her cursing, barely under her breath until she examined the swords in the weapons store and snatched up one that looked about right in size and weight. Testing it with a few practiced flourishes to be sure it was something she could wield skillfully. Calia trained with most of the weapons there, but she’d always preferred the one handed shortsword.
Once she’d had it in hand, she was back to glaring daggers at the demon again. This time crossing past him to leave the chamber without flipping him the finger, but the message was clear enough in her expression.
He was not wrong, though, she hated to admit. Calia needed to save her ire and send it in the right directions. For now she would simply have to view him as a weapon to be used. An annoying, mouthy weapon.
“Believe what yah will.” Narrowing eyes at the suggestion that he made a lot of assumptions, “Though the way yah be talkin’ one would think yah had many a counter with demons.” Something about her didn’t scream casual princess slumber party playing with animal bones, fresh blood and plucked eyeballs for casual entertainment. Sure she was clearly a mad bitch about everything but alas, he hadn’t made her make the deal.
He wanted it for his own purposes. Something she pointed out but in the end, she allowed him to do it. So as ornery like a thrice run over badger she was clearly being, this was her bed she had made to lie down in.
There was a hitch in his want for just entertainment of course, she was going to seriously cramp his style when it came to the fairer sex when and if they left this demonic shithole. Sorry, royal demonic shithole.
Ah well, he probably could annoy her enough that she just stamp her foot, curse like a sailor with a transmitted disease and storm off. Allowing him to happily fraternize. She got what she could use from him in the contract. Magic. Power. Blah blah, and now to know that if he died, she died. Just far worse than him. Of course. Granted if he died because of holy power, well then they’d both be broiling in eternal hell!
Thankfully, Princess Sticksinass had seemed to have an realization to all the matters of what may have been agreed upon. Making use of voice to curse once more and look the part of rutting tusked boar looking for a weapon that would maybe act like a defensive tool.
Leaving him to watch her do so. Nudging at someone here and there with foot. Stooping maybe here or there to see if there was something of potential use to have later with no actual convincing of mind to so till she was becoming a expletive mantra with the four letter word that he was starting to wonder if she was mad or making a plea for a fuck. Arching a brow at her. Turning to a winsome smile at her glare so they could mosey onto their next little crust riddled dump.
Casually he walked after here. Considering the ruined state of castle, “What is yer plan, petal? I surely hope it ain’t just waltzing up to that of yer former buachaill and takin’ a swing. Coz that be a fine way to be slaughtered before anything of use. Though I won’t be convincin’ yah not too if that’s the choice.” Arc hummed, “Ain’t think I’ve had and ended a contract so fast though, so that’ll be a nice little trophy for yah.”
Stretching a hand before himself as if he were writing soemting in the air, “Princess Calia, ding dong dead.” Nose wrinkled, “Not my finest work. But I’ll come up with somethin’ for yer epitaph.”
The only reply the demon received was another heavy, annoyed sigh. As a matter of fact, Calia did indeed intend to march right up to the bastard the second she spotted him and obliterate him right out of the atmosphere. Be it cold hard steel or through magic, it didn’t matter. Granted, she wasn’t going to be foolish about it, either. The princess was well aware that it wouldn’t be so easy. Derrick now had a demon hoard at his command, the full scope of her magic, and who knew what else in the form of that awful cursed booked of his and collected items. Truly, there was no telling what he had amassed in the years he’d been gone.
The evidence of what he was capable of was seen around every corner as she led the way through the castle. A grim, terrible tale of a sudden and brutal take over. What hadn’t burned laid in shatters, splinters, and crumples. Bits of glass, fallen wood beams, and scorched stone. Stains of dark brown blood splatter adorned walls and ground. But the most eerie part came in the lack of bodies. No mortal, no demon, not even dead rats or dogs! As if the entire place had been scoured for every inch of flesh and bone to be devoured or worse.
Calia didn’t know if that were better or worse. At the moment she was running on a certain level of manic determination, but if she were to see the mangled form of someone she knew and loved, there was no telling how she’d handle it! Let her be heartless and cold, there would be no other way to survive.
For the moment there did not appear to be any skulking demons patrolling through the castle halls. Likely having already stripped it bare of anything edible or valuable. There was horror in that thought too, the knowledge they’d be spreading outsides into the countryside and beyond. Briefly sending Calia into a steam of serious thought – where would the man head next? Was his intent to kill everyone that fled? Had he followed her brother and sister out of the valley? It could make sense that he’d be determined to kill any heirs that’d dare come back for the throne.
After having to wind her way up a crumbled set of stairs, Calia took them to east wing where her own personal suite was located. Unsurprisingly, this side of the castle had gone through just as much damaged. Pushing open the door to her room resulted into it collapsing off it’s hinges due to half the thing being burned down to coal and ash. The main chamber of her room was in a state of chaos and disarray. Shredded fabric, burned furniture, things scattered to the winds.
It was… Calia stuffed those thoughts back down. There had to be a suitable change of cloths around here somewhere so that she might at least no be covered in stains and blood. She’d hunt down her armor too, or at least whatever pieces could be recovered, as she wasn’t about to trust this demon’s promises of strength and skill. Already kicking and tossing things about in her search for something still usable.
He’d take her silence as an omission that she was originally intending to just waltz on over to the man who unleashed literal hell and do… well probably die. While humans were notorious squishy flesh bags, he also knew that one with some inkling to make trades of the dark arts weren’t so easily disbanded. Otherwise, well… they’d have died likely a lot sooner before summoning demons. And this one had opened a massive portal to overtake an entire mountain kingdom. So the sorcerer was no slouch.
As much as he was clearly amused at the idea that she might have successfully entered a contract with a demon only to lose it in the same day, he didn’t think that was overly thrilling. He did in fact need this contract to remain out of reach of the upper demon he had successfully pissed off. So for now, madam cat’s ass pucker, needed to be thoughtful about her line of action.
Something that he accepted when there was no commentary back. Even if that was a bit disappointing because he was quite enthused by her attempts to be spicy. When it was clear they were leaving, he followed once more. Only for like a few feet before decidedly flitting back to the jewelled bug form. Fluttering up and landing once more on her head to roost and let her carry him around this crispy empire. Just cause he was a demon patron right now didn’t mean he wasn’t about to be a pampered little buggy.
As she walked, he watched. Considering the place and debating mentally the length of time it took for the place to go up in cinders. Time really had no meaning to him and admittedly in the midsts of being originally released, it had been a frenzy of blood. Kill and eat.
It had been a good day. Not even certain when he had managed to have such a delectable lunch of either human or demon. Again, they weren’t particularly loyal to another. More of, power spoke over others. Cannibalism was by no means an unfamiliar trait in them and he being a particularly obvious carrion styled demon, found it quite enjoyable to chew on a femur. Many of his own talents came from devouring other demons or humans.
Brushing hands and using them as a resting point upon crown, they’d found themselves in a space that at first looked as boring as the rest. Only that Calia appeared to be ready to go digging through for something of use. “I don’t think there’s any balls to be had soon, dumplin’. What yah be lookin’ for?”
Calia was quite good at ignoring things when she wanted to. Even if those things were demon bugs crawling and roosting into her hair as if she were his personal beast of burden. Shouting at him, snatching him up, and flinging him into oblivion definitely came to mind, but Calia was also very good at staying single-minded. There would be time to give this demon hell, once they were out of the castle grounds and away from immediate potential dangers.
“Mind your own damn business,” she spat out. Reaching down to try and drag a dresser back up to it’s proper standing, or at least shoved out of the way so she could search for clothes that weren’t scorched or shredded.
Her decision to further ignore him lasted as long as it took her to find a clean shirt. On pulling the filthy one up over her head, Calia didn’t fail to make sure that blasted demon was caught up in the fabric. Then with a gleeful FLING~! sent it and the demon right out the window to plummet several floors down.
The princess had a feeling he’d pop right back up, but in the moment it was satisfying.
Pulling her fresh clean shirt over her head – scowling that even it had some rips, but at least it wasn’t covered in sweat and blood – she followed up next with tugging her boots off and shedding her pants to resume her search for a new pair. Quietly considering the wisdom in planning her next steps with said demon. It was pretty obvious to Calia that he didn’t much care what she got up, but she had a feeling he was self serving enough that he’d not want her landing in any real trouble until he’d finally had himself some fun. That could be something Calia used to her advantage.
So when the demon did reappear, she finally deem him worth speaking to.
“We’re going to leave here and follow the hoard. Will it be smarter for me to wear plate or leather? Do I need to take a hit or simply be quick on my feet?”
He was about to say something truly remarkable and absolutely hilarious to her commentary about he was to mind his own damn business, save that she was shortly bundling him up in stripped away shirt. And so absolutely ungraciously tossing him aside! Out a fucking window!
Forcing him to quite literally scramble to make a hasty exit before he hit the ground. Lost temporarily in that of a bloody shirt to narrowly escape an unpleasant ache, huffing at the sight when the loose fabric came to the earth. Ruffling to shortly start fluttering along some sort of stretch of road, leaving him to have to fly his ass back up to where he had been so unfairly throw out of.
As much as she assumed, he did reappear. Scuttling on the window sill while she ever so casually spoke to him like she hadn’t just tried doing so. Wiggling about a moment as she decided that now she wanted to ask him that of any insight. It was good he wasn’t capable of actually glaring as he was but well, he did need her alive to be of entertainment.
Just less at his expense!
“Yah be havin’ my abilities. Some yah have to ask for permission, others I need blood for. But the sort of things yah be speakin’ of, leather be best. Yah not guna be as easy to squish like most meaty bags that humans are. Yah wanna be fast on yer feet however. Just cause yah can take a beatin’ and might be able to survive being stabbed, don’t mean yah will live terribly long if one of the big blokes decided to swing yah around by yer hair.” Arc huffed, “Didn’t think it be necessary to toss me out yer window, by the way, lass. If yah want my powers, yah have to keep me yah know. How yah guna get revenge if yah just toss me away!”
He seemed thoughtful then and well, “Did yah think I was guna take peeks at yer lady bits? Yer not exactly the type of pretty thang I wanna play around with anyways, so don’t feel embarrassed!”
At the revelation that she’d have to ask for permission to use some of his power, the girl actually stopped. Pausing there with a furrow of her brow that suggested she was about to let out another long string of curses, only for it to be curiously held back. Holding a clean new pair of pants in her hands so tight that it could just be she was imagining herself strangling him.
Calia had never been magic bound in her life. Granted, she’d never attempted to test her limits and truly explore the full scope of what she could do… but there were never enforced limits either! She could do as she pleased, when she pleased, and this entire idea that she had to ask or give additional exchanges just to access the very vital essence that was the entire whole of her existence…!
A huff escaped as she started shoving legs into pants, cinching and button and thinking. His demon magic didn’t fill that hole, so what did it matter anyway. She just wouldn’t use his magic unless she was forced to. Calia was skilled enough in combat and this bond afforded her a sort of invulnerability and strength she hadn’t had before. That would be enough for now.
It also meant she was best off with a majority of leather armor with a few plated supplements.
“Doesn’t matter what you see, I can’t imagine you know what to do with a woman beyond being a general nuisance.”
To think about this fundamentally, yes they were in a contract. She could use his powers but some of the more powerful spells or abilities did require some sort of give and take. Medium level spells needed a letting of blood to bind. Like a reagent for a spell. What she might not realize at this particular moment was she was more akin to a warlock and he was her patron. Allowing her to use his talents to a certain extent.
Just of course for the more potent spells or actions, she needed him to be involved. Particular towards those of the necrotic arts. Why? Because she was not practiced. A spellcaster didn’t just get a high level spell being a newbie. They’d blow themselves up! It was like giving a child an hatchet and saying, go chop that wood. But not defining that the wood wasn’t the house but the timbers already precut by an adult!
So while she seemed to be having some thoughts or whatever, he just roosted there.
Not about to let her entirely get away with having chucked him out the window like some piece of trash! Commenting first and then wondering if the dear little princess had been embarrassed that her body might have been seen by anyone at all. Only that he would chime in that it was hardly the case. There was little about her besides her feisty attitude that was even remotely interesting. He’d seen better curves on a block of wood.
“Ah petal, don’t yah be worryin’. I’ll only be yer nuisance. Anyone else of the feminine company is an entirely different game.” Clicking and chittering, he ever so helpfully allowed himself to flutter over again. Repeating the means of perching on her head and settling down once more. “Throw me again and I’ll take yah with me.” Cheerily he practically sang but actually pulled on some of her hair. “Be nice to yer demon patron, I’m just a cute little boy after all.”
Calia was far too tempted to call that bluff of his – considering grabbing his buggy form for another repeat of toss the demon. Settling on giving a disapproving grunt when he tugged at her hair again, and then that weary irritated sigh as this sham of being a cute little boy. He was nauseatingly unfunny! He could be the world’s worst court jester for this pitiful sense of humor he seemed to be so tickled by.
Choosing silence for her company once again, Calia searched and gathered up what pieces she could find to gear herself up. A clean and sturdy pair of boots for travel. None of her plate armor seemed to be in useable shape, most of it dented and warped in one awkward manner or another, suggesting some demonic asshole had spent their time stomping and crushing whatever felt fun to do damages to. The leather, at least, wasn’t too bad. The few bits of tatters there could be repaired along the road.
While she was busy lacing up the bracers on her wrists she caught a glimpse of herself in a broken mirror. Pausing the briefest of seconds at the sight before resuming with a grimacing frown. No wonder he found comfort as a nest in her hair, as the coal black braided circlet had shifted wildly with strands coming loose in every which direction. Her eyes, at least, were the expected dark green of a forest at night. Only the whole of her appeared completely washed out of color and… life. A madwoman. A ghost with physical form. Calia didn’t look real, and she half wondered if that part was all in her head because she knew her very soul was missing. That ass had taken her heart to steal her magic, but Calia’s magic was Calia. Even if the world at large did not know it.
“…cute little boys can’t land a woman, either, by the way.” she announced suddenly in the silence. Turning away from the grisly sight of herself to procure a belt for her sword. “I’m not so sure you could charm your way out of a wet pastry bag, let alone into a woman’s skirts.”
Maybe he was waiting for her to try the means of picking him up and throwing him again. It would have been amusing to see what would happened, if anything would but there was nothing there to really gauge. His newest little pet had chosen the means of silence while she went picking through whatever remains of a room had been left.
Someone or someones had happily come storming through here. Likely looking for some hiding human to pick up to shake like a rattle. Or to simply devour. Whatever the means of fun had been, he didn’t personally care. More so content now to be nested once more on that of the ebon tresses and maybe ready to pull on the roots if she thought of trying to dislodge him before he was good and ready. She might not be more than a vengeful shrew, but he did not want them thinking there was a power struggle here! She could kick. Scream. Curse and threaten but at the end of the day, she needed him more than he needed her.
Humans were a dime a dozen. Always someone out there that was willing to make a pact with those of the unsavoury sort, so long as they got something from it. Even a scrap of food, would be enough to make someone crumble. So truly she ought to be counting her lucky stars she was in good fortune at all.
“Hmm?” Oh so it was conversational terms again. Well more of her attempt to insult him. And he laughed. Sweet, loud and absolutely authentic. “I dunno, lass. Yah be surprised what sort of ladies will be happy to look at a face like mine and be all eager.” He had plenty of experience.
“Yah may not know it but there’s always a price someone be payin’ for somethin’. Sometimes is power. Sometimes is coin. Sometimes is just petty revenge in the form of some strappin’ young man that looks naïve but happily makes one perfectly breathless.”
He paused and if possible he might have narrowed his eyes at her. “Now, now, dandelion. Yah can’t be jumpin’ my bones! We just met and I’m a shy lover to that of a contract holder. At least buy me dinner first before yah be playin’ coy. Yer the only one that can seem my demon appearance and while my horns are grand for grapplin’, yah not ready for that level of passion. I can practically smell the virginity upon yah.”
To be honest, Calia would be surprised at the sorts of bullshit women would put up with! It was always quite baffling to the princess how much a pretty face could get away with, when they said the right words or gave the right look. And as much as she could say she was immune to such things, that certainly hadn’t been the case on more than one occasion. One would think she’d have learned the lesson well… and while she for certain knew what signs to avoid altogether to keep herself away from dangerous sorts, that hadn’t been foolproof.
While he blathered on in his lilted nonsense, enjoying listening to his own self talk, Calia had finished gathering up the bulk of what she needed. Satisfied at least for the moment that she was good as it would get. Only with a quick peek in the hall to be sure it was clearly, she then set out to wind her way out of the castle itself. Keeping keenly aware of that oh-so-subtle tugging of the string that kept her connected to her own stolen heart. Having a small horrifying thought that had she not been so connected to her own magic and not seen it in his very hands, that with the steady beating inside her chest Calia might never had known it was stolen at all.
…then the idiot stroked his own ego at the expense of calling her a virgin and Calia nearly halted where she was walking. Any other day, any other time, she might’ve barked out into laughter! She couldn’t seem to find the will to laugh in her now, but now he’d opened himself up to a world of hurt.
“But now I kin yah not an incubus n’ must have yerself a dinger worth a mockin’. Cause it’s not a virgin yah perchin’ on, ya braggin’ fool.” He’d blabbered so much at this point that Calia had been a quick study to capture his cadence and accent with a surprisingly close accuracy. With such a deadpan delivery that it almost felt like she spoke that way all the time. Completely useless since she couldn’t keep languages right to save her life, but she was a good mimic for sounds.
“Shouldn’t make so many assumptions, petal. You thought you found a kitten, but you’ve got yourself a dragon.”
There was a delight that his belief and her prudishness was in fact not due to any sort of clutched pearl of her sacred maidenhead. No apparently, that had nothing to do with it as she decided to test that of his commentary with a twist of accent. Fluttering jewelled wings at the fact she was attempting to mock him. Although he found it flattering!
“Ah, so yer just a sour cow in general. Fantastic!” Arc could of purred at the idea, “I fear that whatever bed of hay yah had rolled over in for to lose such a fable sacrifice clearly was poor show. If it had been good, yah’d still be thinkin’ fondly over a good tumble.”
It worked better for him if she wasn’t a virgin anyways. Not about to be scandalized by anything indecent but he did find himself pausing a moment while she called herself a dragon over a kitten. “Now who is full of themselves?” Asked in rhetoric because she was hardly even that. He’d stick with a angry wet cat because she was more hiss and spit than any actual flame thus far.
For purpose he crawled forward to hang a bit in her face, “I make assumptions coz it is workin’ that yah find offense and tell me more details about yerself.” Little antenna wiggled in the same way eyebrows might. “If I were to ask, yah’d likely tell me in that oh so sweet way to be feckin’ off.” Arc hummed with purpose, “Nice accent by the way. Tickle me pink that yah be emulatin’ me. They grow up so fast,” Sniffling for dramatics, the buggy demon shuffled back then. “I ain’t no incubus, I ain’t got a spaded tail. I just like the fillies and they, me.“
A sour cow! Well. Calia had been called worse. She had sharp features and a sort of noble stature that screamed unapproachable. Her resting expression unfriendly. Her sense of humor dark and sarcastic. Conversations made her tired and irritated. Calia was a woman best kept in alone and in her own company, or with an animal companion that enjoyed the freedom of just running wild. A woman at her age should’ve been married by now, and by all accounts people would’ve been calling her a spinster crone if it weren’t for her equally unmarried elder sister who was too gentle and soft for anyone to dare say such a thing about.
He wasn’t wrong about her experiences, though. Not to say they were all bad, only they for certain weren’t worth a fond memory or a memory at all. Always a rush or a plain and simple okay. It didn’t matter much then, and it sure didn’t matter now!
This demon was especially good at derailing her thoughts, and Calia wasn’t sure yet if it was useful or distracting. Either way she was quickly hopping down the crumbled stair cases, keeping an eye out for others like him… or in other odd shapes since it seemed they weren’t all going to be the big tall and red variety of dangerous.
“You know that you are telling me just as much about yourself, yes?” she asked, this time genuinely curious. As honestly! Not only did he prattle on endlessly, he gobbled up every retorted bait she threw at him. “Why don’t we put it to the test? I’ll find the first big and ugly beast I see, and if I don’t perish I’ll take you somewhere to attempt your wooing. Cause so far you reek of so much bullshit that I am not so sure you actually have the power to lend me, let alone catch the eye of even the most desperate of lady.”
“Calia, I have been alive,” he needed fingers to air quote but he wasn’t about to shift back right now having found a nice spot to ride along, “For many centuries. Of course I like talkin’ about myself. I’m the most interestin’ person I know!” If she was looking to catch him off guard or him to suddenly gasp at the fact that she was equally learning about him, the mark was missed. It was evident he had no troubles chirping along about himself. Hell at this rate, she might find out his favourite colour or season or whatever the hell it was that humans did in the measure of discovering a being out on a level of bland significance.
Yet this little moving mobile princess wagon that he was perched upon decided that she wanted to test something’s.
In particular just what sort of power she had at her fingertips. “Yah had better be to yer word then, not about to promise me that of a fling but step in to interrupt because yah can. I’m pleasant now but if yah be interruptin’, I’ll be beyond crossed.” Stating this sweetly, he wasn’t exactly kidding. If she made this deal right now, right here and thought of a way to loophole it, he was going to make her suffer! She could be surely. Whiny. A woman that made a sailor blush due to the expletives dropped. She could be whatever, but he damn well expected her to live by her agreement. Otherwise, well… he’d remind her right quickly just the fact he was a demon.
“If yah live to yer word, then let’s find yer newest little slice and dice. Just remember, if yah be wantin’ to use stronger level spells, yah guna have to ask for it. Chants or whatever have yah. Think of it as yer a warlock now. Spells don’t just be flying from yer fingertips however,” He purposefully razzle dazzle tip tapped on her head, “It is a new contract. With blood fresh in my system, so yah can use that of bolt spells. Fire bolt. Ice bolt, lightning bolt, whatever yah wish in such ways. Or if yah wanna alter the terrain, have at it. Just be light on yer feet.” Arc offered helpfully as they moved along.
She really wouldn’t have to wait terribly long to find something big, ugly and looking the part of smart as a stick. If the way it was chewing on a tree branch was anything to go by. “Well now, have fun!” He’d happily escape from her head to let her feud with the demon ogre. Fluttering nearby to the safest location he could to hang out. Roosting back in the demonic human form on his back. Merely missing someone feeding him that of grapes. “Make sure yer footwork is keen, petal!”
For all of Calia’s distaste, distrust, and general irritation with him, she was still a quick study. She listened and learned, not about to miss useful details that were going to come in handy not just now, but far into the future as well. At least there was solace in knowing he was still trying to figure her out too. Didn’t stop him from behaving like a tit, though.
Yet what he described it sounded like demon magic for him was nothing more than a fancy LEASH. For creatures of chaos, this demon magic was all rules and limitations! Bolts, he says? Spells. It sounded like ranged bullshit, not any better than a paltry mage! Calia hadn’t even began to try and use it, but mere thought alone had her wriggling inside her own skin.
Then when she exited out the castle proper and made her way out the courtyard, the little buggy bastard took off to flying. Apparently not about to risk his own ass, while she struggled within the fishbowl of demonic magic. Calia nearly gave a flick of her hand to send one of those theoretical bolts flying right at his lounging stupid behind!
Perhaps it was better that he had seen the ogre first and was quick to flee, as Calia wasn’t expecting the way she would freeze at the sight. Fear would’ve been the logical cause, only that wasn’t quite it. Uncertainty, would’ve been perfectly understandable and allowed under the circumstances, yet Calia wasn’t uncertain. There was nothing. Just emptiness. Blasé, indifference, cold, unfeeling nothingness.
Even bursting into tears would’ve been better. Calia never cried about anything, but in that moment at least she would’ve known she wasn’t broken.
Calia supposed the saying was true, then. Revenge was best served cold.
Still, despite everything there was some stupid part of her that refuse to light up this ogre unprovoked even if it was a stupid demon. She hated that little voice, as she wanted to take that hellfire and violence and squeeze it for all it was worth! Instead, the princess strolled herself across the scorched earth, not even bothering to yet pull her sword. Putting her fingers to her mouth and letting out a loud high-pitched whistle.
“HEY! Join my legion or get the fuck off my land!”
…Calia was never good at being a diplomat either.
Of course he abandoned her. It wasn’t him that needed to figure out the spells and stuff. What could or couldn’t be done. And at the end of it, if she got squished, oh well. She had a good time of just being an angry little snarling ball of… something. Fluff? Fluff seemed on point.
He’d been very content to flit way and lounge safely out of reach for now. Watching to see just what this warrior princess did and admittedly, he was a bit caught off guard.
“Finesse is clearly not her way.” He mumbled to himself. Apparently she was more of a barbarian than princess. Merely missing a club and a horned helmet by the way she was yelling at the dunderbrained ogre beast to… join her or get out.
Well he could say that clearly he hadn’t found Calia to be wise. She was just a ball of anger which likely meant she was just allowing it to guide her actions. Ones that as the dumb bastard blinked out of unison with the other eyeball, it grunted deep from its rolled belly. Making it jiggy and raised the crude axe with the obvious reply. There was no joining or leaving. Fighting was its reply. Roaring with spittle flying from agaped mouth. “Got ‘im on the ropes now!” Arc helpfully called from the sidelines, “How terrifyin’.” Watching the brute cleave the sharp axe head downwards.
Dragon? More like the senseless type of animal that ought to have known when to back down or try a different tactic!
At least with such an aggressive and clear retort of violence, Calia didn’t have to feel guilty over the next few moments. While she had no issues with hunting, and maybe even a little casual brawling, the princess had never been one to start a fight first. A lesson from her father that she’d always taken to heart. There is no sense in being passive or submissive, but you don’t go pushing your weight around and attacking people without reason. Perhaps not the correct lesson to be leaning on today, when her kingdom was full of demonic invaders that likely deserved every bit of violence she could rain down on them. Only, Calia had already made so many mistakes already.
The ogre’s axe came swinging down, with that dumb demon’s unhelpful commentary coming along with it. Calia would’ve been quick and graceful on her feet even without the added bonus of a demon’s strength, easily stepping out of the way and circling around to the side. Already a few steps ahead in gauging the strengths and weaknesses of this particular beast – bulky, slow, unarmored – swinging her sword with practiced ease and clear intent to slice at the back of the ogre’s calf and hitting home.
That’s where things got peculiar!
Instead of Calia’s simple strategy of cutting open meat and important vein to have the ogre slowly bleeding out while he fought her, the princess’ strike cut far deeper than she expected. Far deeper than she ever could’ve done with her own human strength! Steel chopped deep through muscle until it hit bone with a sharp CRACK!, prompting her to draw out quick from the bewildering startle of it.
…to then almost miss when he towering behemoth was bellowing in pain, tilting and crumbling in her direction! Forcing Calia to snap back to attention in a mad scrambled to get out of the way before she was crushed underneath it, and landing nearby in the dirt looking very much like a clueless dolt that had no idea what had just happened!
Blinking owlishly, there was the slow dawning realization that in those moments since she’d agreed to this demon contract, all that exhaustion and pain had nearly vanished. On lifting her hand to eye palm and finger, even where he’d chomped into her had healed up. Not a lie, then. Calia was, for all intents and purposes now, truly indestructible.
That was going to be a problem for the demon later, but for the moment Calia was gathering back to her feet with this sudden thrilling new idea to test out the limits of her leash. Reaching towards that awful, icky feeling of beetles crawling beneath her skin to grasp the the spicy threads of his magic. Pulling wildly without caring an ounce about trying to have self control – what did she need control now for anyway, Calia could use magic openly now! Hating that feeling of coming up against the wall of an organized spell, yet casting it the way it demanded to be cast. Bolting fire to roast this stupid meaty ogre from the inside out!
Well now, it seemed all it took was for her to start using some fancy footwork and an… intention? He was guessing, to strike out at the big dumbarse ogre to the point of striking at it so deeply, to realize that he was not just hot air. But it should also stand out in her mind maybe somewhere that if he was potentially this strong, then the elder demons were stronger.
If he knew how summoning shit worked, then this Derrick fellow likely had an elder demon –at least one- on his side. He’d be very difficult to deal. Not that he was about to start over explaining such things as Calia had made a gracious fumble backwards into the dirt. Blinking like her eyes were trying to figure out how such efforts moved. Looking over herself and he could only imagine the sort of cogs that were coming to life in her head.
It was always somewhat entertaining watching that of the contract receiver start processing just what sort of perks they were getting from the agreement at all. With a bewildered sort of awe that promptly switched into that sort of crazy god hubris that often got them killed, Arc hummed as she stood up. Revitalized with the fact that her former attitude of how he was likely so full of shit his eyes were brown, was no longer applicable.
Feeling how she was then reaching out to grab on threads of magic, the beastly ogre wailed and thumped rambunctiously upon the earth. Impressively he kept hold of the axe handle with a spastic swing. Wild and nonsensical but still deadly to get caught up into, he was sadly about to be a pig on a spit. With how Calia ever so easily latched onto that of a spell to summon and made it come to her beck and call with ease. A feat that came from the contract, she wouldn’t have to spend days and days with him learning how to do so. Granted she stated she had magic prior, so it likely had some familiarity for her to reach out and grab it.
Turning the blood spilling ogre into a grease flame as it screamed and shrieked in horrible agony. Making his ears tingle with the heinous bellows, he could only smirk to himself.
“Seems like someone’s having fun.”
“Shut up, Archimedes,” she shouted out for the first time acknowledging his name, over the burn of fire that seemed to growing larger still just by the pure fat content ladened within the ogre’s massive body. Out of the elemental repertoire, fire had been the correct choice. Roasting the bastard in such a way that it actually smelled like a village barbecue – of which, Calia realized even her sense of smell heightened, leaving her with this sudden twisting nausea in her stomach as she wasn’t sure if charred demon was supposed to smell like food or if this was an unwanted side effect of the bond! Was she going to eventually succumb to a frenzied bloodlust?
Would it even matter in the end? Calia had every intention of taking that sorcerer traitor down even if she had to die in the process to do it.
There was a futile attempt once more to make a grasp at her own magic. The press of her foot into the dirt and a soft sweep of her hand to try and brush that gentle string. It remained as far away as ever, leaving her still with that big cavernous hole and the antsy-spicy demon magic in it’s stead.
Oh well. One demon down, hundreds left to go.
Calia held her sword out in the fire a moment to singe away the blood, once satisfied backed away with a few flourishes to help cool the steel before inevitably sheathing again. This time giving her demon a patron a more considering look – still not respectful in the slightest, he was a top tier idiot – but she wouldn’t be able to just ignore him. Calia had to make this work.
Spite and pride were still in control, though. So instead of any sort of admittance or thank you in his direction, it was a scowling frown and a squint of her eyes before she made a gesture that it was time to get on their way. Not about to suddenly be the chatty one in this confounding partnership.
Bursting out into a fit of laughter at the sheer fact that she had just absolutely turned that ogre into a living barbeque, here she was yelling at him to shut up. With his full name attached. Why, if he wasn’t about to fall off his perch from the sheer fact she was so stirred up to do so, he might have shed a tear.
No, instead he was absolutely loving the fact that out of all of this, she had been so annoyed at him. Resulting in calling him like she was about to be one’s mother tugging at an unruly brat’s ear.
It was absolutely hilarious. Tickling him pink all over again that when she finally seemed to have successfully decided that what she now had was at least suitable for her revenge, he had managed to roll over to his stomach.
Chin perched between heels of his palms, kicking feet behind him. Meeting that look with a doofy grin. Tilting head to brandish the toothy beam further but managed to regain footing. Standing up with the gesture that they were to be on their way. Happily enough obliging to trot over.
Hands behind head and glancing at the roasted oversized demon pig. There wasn’t much there besides a half decent smell that would pull other lower demons out to make short work out of its corpse. There wasn’t any magic or skills presented in that ogre that he would like to have. Nor was he really in the means of jumping up on that bloated blob to dig out a heart for a travel snack. Ogre demons were pretty basic.
“Well? How was that for a taste of what yah can do now with my patronage?” Arc looked down at her. Violet eyes sparkling with all the serpentine enjoyment one could ever imagine. Heartbeat quickened by the pulse of horns matching said lub-dubbing, “Yah seem to be pleased, even just a wittle bit. Just think, that’s just the tip of the iceberg! Imagine what yah could do. What I could do for yah, petal. It’ll be fun, dontcha know.”
Calia had always been a little too serious for her own good, so it was quite natural that his giddy delight at murder and mayhem was setting her into an even deeper disapproving scowl. Giggling, and grinning with glee as well… he truly did have her now, didn’t he. Blood bonded and all.
What made it worse was this man form of his had to be so fucking tall. Calia was used to being tall enough to stare most men eye to eye, and now here she was having to crane her neck just to give him the full force of a green-eyed glare. Wanting nothing more than to knock that look off his face with a good solid punch!
“I could do more before,” she reluctantly told him. Preferring to return back to silently ignoring him, but knowing in the long run that wasn’t going to work. Especially considering he liked to hear himself blabbering. At least she could steer conversation to topics that’d be useful for them both!
“Your magic is nothing more than a leash made of chains and unnecessary rules, that I suddenly understand why demons are so obsessed with clawing their way out of their own realm. My only solace is that your ego wasn’t larger than your actual talent, and now I loathe the idea that you’re going to be unleashed on the valley because now I’m going to be suck watching every empty-headed woman we come across get dazzled by a pretty face and stupid crooning.”
…that was quite a few more words than she actually expected to come out. At least Calia was honest, even if she was pissed off at the world. She couldn’t get them away from that burning carcass fast enough, as even she knew it’d be a matter of time before scavengers showed up to pick it off. Other demons, wild animals… she didn’t know. As tempting as killing every demon she came across could’ve been, it also wasn’t such a smart idea. There would be a learning curve with his magic, especially if she wanted to sus out it’s full potential.
She’d need it. For Calia knew Derrick well; he would not stop at stealing her magic and summoning a demon hoard. He sought power, and power was a greedy and insatiable thing.
Thus Calia chose her direction well, following the tug of her heart. Idly a thread of the demons magic to light that tiny spark of fire in her palm. Intrusive, impulsive thoughts filling her head again as she pondered it. Deciding in an instant to extinguish the flame and pull a small dagger from her belt and take a testing swing at her demon patron.
And why not? If he was once a plague to his own kind, he needed to be just as sharp on his feet as she!
“Give it time. Yah only were touchin’ the tip of the berg, petal. Yah can’t be knowing the entirety of a book by readin’ only the first page. Let alone the first line.” Lips curved up a little further to add to that wicked grin. Baring sharpened points with ease. A dangerous smile that while he was clearly full of himself and shown to be playfully stupid, he wasn’t actually stupid. Though was he insulted that she hadn’t just thrown all caution to the wind to try every bit of magic he offered?
Maybe a little. There was something absolutely magical watching someone become deranged with power that they just barreled into.
Surprisingly she apparently had much to say about how his magic was no more than a chained leash. With rules and he chuckled. “Demons are obsessed about many things. Yer magic was natural, so of course yer be thinkin’ that mine is a leash. Yah just started playin’ with it, Calia. But surely yah know that magic is a chaotic force. Without rules, it’s dangerous. Well, even with rules it still be dangerous. As yah found out from the turned sorcerer boy that fooled yah. He had to do some pretty hefty liftin’ to make all this,” Arc motioned to all around them, “Happen. And I guarantee, he didn’t do it alone. Like yah, he’s likely on a leash too.”
He was pretty certain there was someone of favourable whispers saying such things into Derrick’s ears. Be it a elder demon. A few of them. The Mad Queen? He didn’t know, nor really cared. Just that said boy, had to do what the book told him. “Magic is a powerful tool. If yah want it bad enough, yah be willin’ to learn the rules.”
They walked a moment and something felt tingling in his chest. Long ears twitched with the jubilant gaze of violet seemed to spark. The lackadaisical element shifting away to something sharp, attuned with a buzzing alarm in his skull that pulsed with the contract bonds.
Sliding step sideways to counter his weight to tip head some to at least let her feel some sort of rush when it came to making strands of blue flatter away with the blade cutting through. Watching the glint of metal pass by without a tempered grin. Musing softly with a airy breath. Eyes closed a moment before popping back open. The jovial decorum sliding away to leave little more than a snapping out clawed grasp to take hold of arm. Bending it awkwardly backwards to push high into the back. And pressed claws down to start piercing through leathers of gauntlets. Inch. By. Inch.
“That’s yer last free one, Calia.” His voice was calm. Level but perfectly unfriendly. “A third time’s a charm as they say and it won’t just be yer missin’ heart yah need to worry about. Bodies break just as well without one.” Icy violet’s stared at her before releasing with a slight bit of a shove.
“Now,” Clapping animatedly with a refresh of a grin, beginning to rub palms eagerly, “Where we headin’?”
Calia came out of that hold with nothing but a slight stumble and all of the grace of a true noble born princess. There might’ve been a wince somewhere in there, but that too had vanished to be replaced with a sort of superior innocence, as if she hadn’t just attacked him for no good reason. She certainly wasn’t apologetic or regretful about it! Sliding that dagger back into it’s sheath and resuming her chosen direction, like it was just another casual stroll.
Notably taking them down a path that was going to completely bypass the village. Refusing to add some new horror to her memory, there was enough in there already that she was trying to stuff down and pretend she didn’t remember.
“Can you blame a girl for trying,” she stated simply. Honestly too, without that hint of bitter frustration about it. Acceptance. Reluctant, but acceptance. “I need to learn fast and you need to prove that you’re not just some giggling tart that’s going to sit on the sidelines while I do all the work.”
With that she cast him another disgruntled expression again, for now pursuing this means of honest communication now that the door had been opened. Not failing to understand his not-so-subtle hint that was her own lack of practice with his style of magic that was the problem, not that it was leashed.
“I was happy, you know. My life was just as I wanted it, even if I did hide my magic. Now all I have is you and you’re a gods be damned clown! So what if I do fling a few daggers and spells your way. Fight me then. Break the contract, kill me, I don’t care. I’ll raise up out of the ground and plague the world in a new way.”
“I can.” Replying steadily to her suggestion that could he really blame her for trying. Of course he could. Again, he had offered the contract with his eagerness for her to see, but he hadn’t forced her into it. At that time, he couldn’t. There had been a need for her to take it so he could regain his forms. This one. And the other. But had she truly declined, well… they’d not be taking this leisurely jaunt through the burnt remains of it all.
However whatever reason she sought to see if she could get the leap on him, it made her a little more chatty. Not that he was saying she was a stunning conversationalist. Offering her a playful roll of eyes, “Darlin’, just coz yah’ve got the personality of toe fungus, don’t mean I am not entertainin’.” Brows lifted, “That be soundin’ like a you problem.” Articulating the ‘you‘ part clearly.
Shortly shrugging the broad of shoulder’s, “Nor why would I be doin’ any work? I gave yah both that of latent and offensive abilities. I dare say, I’ve done more for yah than yah for moi.”
Stealing peeks at her, he was actually being genuine at the moment.
For all intents and purposes, he could fuck off to who knew where. Leaving her to fight and die. Instead he was present. Curious. Mischievous and well, bored.
So she ought to just be damn happy he was giving her the power he had. Anything else seemed useless. Not worth his time.
Yet here she suddenly blurted out that she’d been happy. And how it all fell apart with her getting all snotty. “Well excuse me princess,” Arc shot look his best hairy eyeball, “I don’t recall sayin’ yah had to accept my contract. Yah did that yerself. And don’t try to sell me that bullshit about uncaring’ about dyin’. Yah care. If yah didn’t, yah already be dead.” The demon waved a hand through the air like he was trying to dismiss something inconsequential. “Yer just an ornery bitch that doesn’t like the fact yah made poor choices that lead to this. Blamin’ shit around yah. Angry at everythin’ when yer pissed at yerself. After all, if yah didn’t want to fix this, yah’d have taken yer own life. So stop gettin’ surly at me. I might be a demon, but I didn’t make all this, yer miserbleness. It wasn’t my magic stolen. My heart taken. Or my kingdom sacrificed. I was just summoned, and yah made the choice to align with me. Yah don’t want it, say it. Then I’ll snap my fingers and be on me merry way.”
He smiled at her, “Just don’t come crawlin’ back.”
Damn. That’s all it took. A verbal twist of the knife right to the gut as an ice cold reminder that this all was indeed Calia’s fault. Accepted a demon’s contract out of bitter anger without seriously thinking of what the consequences could be. Followed a villain to his lair out of naive pride because she thought herself so strong and clever. Let an evil free in the world because she was too afraid to tell her own family what she was capable of. Now it was all gone and there truly was no one else to blame.
Calia could not breathe and for a split second the world felt out of focus and blurry. An insidious voice crawled into the empty cavern in her chest twittering in a raspy whisper, you chose this, you did this, you deserve this. It roosted there deep and comfortable, wrapping itself up within that blanket of truth he so callously gave her. Knowing he wasn’t even wrong about her wanting to live. That despite everything she’d done, Calia still wanted to live.
“Fuck,” the explicit came out as nothing more than a hiss under her breath as Calia picked up her stalking pace forward to walk ahead of him. Almost tempted to screech at the demon to go ahead and get lost. If he didn’t need him nearby to use his power, Calia would be so much better off without him here being a loud reminder that she herself was the problem.
Yet she couldn’t find the will to do so, and Calia herself didn’t understand why. Choosing instead to revert back to her frosty silence and ignoring him altogether. Crushing feelings within metaphorical palm to push out and away, along with the memories she didn’t want to think about. Deciding that communication had been a mistake.
Also deciding that she hated this demon with every fiber of her being. Wishing she could toss him down into the nearest ravine.
With her quickened pace and new determination to keeping moving forward, it wasn’t long before she’d brought them to a crossroad. Not one of visible nature – though she could certainly see the evidence of a frenzied chase. To the west would’ve been where survivors had fled, for the western pass was the closest and easily accessible escape for the village. If she followed that direction, she could track her siblings – if they even made it out at all. Curiously, the tug of her heart hadn’t chased them out the valley, but turned off towards the north east instead, deeper into Caeldalmor. If he were not chasing the heirs, that meant he was marching towards one of the other mountain passes towards something else.
The hesitation lasted longer than expected, but in the end Calia turned away from her family to follow the pull of her magic. It’d take several hours walk to get past the farmlands and meadows, and then they’d enter the wilds of the fir forests.
Well it seemed the stone princess of snotty remarks and haughty attitude could be tumbled and humbled. With a bit of surprise that she didn’t just rear back after he ever so gently decided to give her an earful about her contempt, she didn’t do much to him. If anything, it seemed that his words had successful dug down to get this snarly angry woman to realize that while he was one of the beasts from the hoard, there had never been a knife held to her neck.
He had just been so annoying and loud. Mentally frustrating certainly but at the end of it, his hands were only covered in the mayhem of the end result. Not the start or the cause for her happy life to have gone down the shitter.
The contract did well to give him insight much like it would for her to why he had been made to stay as his most insignificant form. That all this destruction had come from a price that she paid to someone who was crazed, demented and had fallen so far that the umbra was forever wrapped around them. If anything he could tell thus far, Calia had a problem with being prideful. And that, was likely one of the reasons this all had come falling down.
Pride was a sin after all.
As she cursed in a snarling bite, she had decided that it was the end of their topic of discussion. Earning a look over while she stomped forward. Graciously missing the generous eye roll.
Humans were such fickle things. They acted like they knew everything and when said knowledge had holes poked in it, they behaved like little angry toddlers. Well, it didn’t particularly matter now did it. She wasn’t suddenly demanding the contract end now that she had successfully gotten out of the bowels of the castle. Merely storming away and he just toddled along behind.
Finding the overall landscape so boring. There was nothing remotely close to entertainment, so it wasn’t really a surprise that he once more reverted to the lesser bug form to flit along. Eventually deciding that she was the pack mule yet again. Just not perching on her head, but grasping onto her back to be tugged along. Idly counting in his head the amount of dead bodies he could find along their way.
Eventually, “Do yah even have a plan?”
Calia had every intention of completely ignoring him. Trudging along the worn path without a single complaint that he was once again attached to her person, albeit now on her back where she couldn’t snatch at him. A purposeful decision, she bet. Wise to stay out of her way, for what wild and crazy thing was this princess about to do next!
Nothing good, that was for sure. Though none of it was presently directed at her demon patron. Without him blabbering the entire time, it left Calia trapped with her own inner thoughts. Something that usually was her favorite and preferred place to be. Alone, silent, and thoughtful. Calia enjoyed discovering a new interest and then throwing all of herself into learning and practicing it. Emptying out her head and living in that moment. Now she didn’t want to be in the moment at all, and everything she had swimming in her brain she wanted no part of!
When he finally piped up to break the silence, she was a little surprised to hear a direct question instead of some more of his blabbering. The demon’s boredom was practically radiating out of him. An effect of their bond, surely, leaving her wondering if he could feel her mood just as sharply. No doubt languishing in the misery, but apparently not enough entertainment to keep him from being bored!
Calia didn’t give two shits about his boredom and didn’t owe him even an inkling of her nonexistent plans. Yet there she was, mulling the question over and finding herself responding.
“How does one even plan a murder when you don’t yet know the full scope of what you’re dealing with,” she admitted. She knew Derrick and how he thought about things. Calia could make a lot of educated guesses, but there were still too many unknowns for her to actually come up with some grand plan. Right now, she was lucky she could even still feel the thread of her heart. If that ever snapped, there’d be no way to track the man down.
“…for now we’re headed into the forest. By nightfall we’ll reach a traveler’s tavern, if it is even still there. You can menace someone else for the night.”
Curiously at some point Calia was no longer seeing the signs of fleeing people or a bloodied chase. As if the physical trail of invasion had just hit a wall and stopped somewhere back behind them. That had a few interesting implications, and all of them were going to be a pain in the ass. For it mostly meant that Derrick could travel by something other than horse and wagon, and take his hoard along with him. Meaning that even if she could follow him, it didn’t mean she would ever catch up!
There was no expectation that she might even reply to him. Honestly, a part of him almost expected her to try to swing around with thumping fists in hopes to punch him out. Off of her or whatever. So colour him mildly intrigued when the snarly she-beast seemed to be thinking and talking with a sort of understanding that showed she just might have a brain. Rather than fitting the part of wild boar that was frothing at the mouth, looking for the first thing to ram tusks into.
In turn, he was surprisingly silent. Thoughtful about the fact of how did one plan a murder without the full insight of what, who, where and why. Of course he had some information as to the mere fact that there was likely some greater demon that was perched on the new sorcerer’s shoulders. Whispering bloody things in his ear, but factually, how one got information? You started investigating.
Fluttering wings and keeping himself neatly tucked in place to avoid said fists for now; Arc mused a bit noisily at the way she suggested that if the inn was still upright, he was allowed to menace someone else.
Instantly he was thinking about pretty little maids. A source of delightful imagery that was.
“How gracious yah be.” Mocking her ever giving efforts, “Yah know, yah have a demon here with yah. Don’t yah think that some information as to what could be dealin’ with, would be present by that of my clown brain.” Arc wiggled somewhat then, “Did yah investigate where that ol’ beau had been stayin’, if yah know where he had been stayin’ that is?” He offered his own little bit of insight there. “To find a solution, it usually means startin’ at the beginnin’.”
It seemed all of her barbs and insults had hurt his ego with the way he kept calling back to each one, cause Calia doubted he even had feelings to wound. She didn’t stamp on that to grind them even more, though, finding that his suggestions actually had her slowing her breakneck speed to a thoughtful pace. Calia could draw up that strange chamber in her mind with vivid clarity. How deep inside the mountain it was. The items arranged as if he’d been living in there for some time. Even the dozens of sigils that had been carved and painted on the stone walls. The mirror she’d shattered into a trillion pieces.
This was not a bad idea.
“Do you have more information than what you’ve already told me then?” she asked, almost even sounding amused. “You’ve already told me he is likely to have a patron of his own. Do you also know how he let loose so many at once?”
Funny that he suddenly wanted to be extra helpful, when he’d fussed before that he’d already given her his power. Boredom was that strong, then. Calia guessed she was the worst sort for a demon to get bound to. Too serious, no fun! Not even a drive for power and greed! He’d have to hope she steered herself into every means of violent trouble, for at least she could fight and be entertaining that way!
“I know where he has been lurking, but I don’t think it’s wise to go back that way just yet. At least for tonight. If I was supposed to stay live and captive in that cell, I imagine there’s going to be a ruckus once it’s realized I’m not. There could be searching.”
“I’m a demon.” He stated flatly, “Of course I have more information. Yah know already from the blood bond formed that I was put into this state for well…. Flirtatious reasons.” Arc coughed as if he were modest about the fact he had wiggled his way into the bedchamber of a demoness that had been one of the upper lord’s particular fling at that time. “Ye, I did. But with how much happened, I dare say his patron would be someone on the very tippy top. Which, has limited spacin’.” There he started to squirm his way up. Peeking over shoulder with feelers going this way and that.
“So many? Well that one outta be evident to yah. Sacrifice has gotta be given to open a door for one demon. Multiple sacrifices means multiple demons. Yer entire kingdom was a sliver platter served up by the sorcerer. If yah wanna dumb it down, one to one ratio. One demon, one human. How many people yah had in yer kingdom that were a perfect little sacrifice, likely brought in that amount of demons. Give or take. Likely people escaped and well, demons eat demons too so… rough estimation.”
It was just enough that it was certainly a storm of blood, bone and gore.
Still it was a thought now that he was percolating on. Yes, he was bored enough that if he was helping her out, he wasn’t about to get all fussed about it. “All in all, petal. Yer former friend likely has a contract with one of the elder demons. Yah call them the seven sins, if yah need any determining factor in that regard though they aren’t nearly as simply based as Pride, Gluttony or what not. There be more to them. Whose to say that yer old boy ain’t messed up with more than one or has an agreement with the Mad Queen here on the mundane plain.”
Arc mentally shrugged. “Whose’s to say.”
Still colour him curious as she continued and stated that there was a reason she had been kept alive. Which if he was about to be loud and mouthy, he was guna take a stab of, “Yah need to be alive for yer magic to work. And yer heart. Ain’t much use if those elements be dead. If Derrick was a talentless hack that had to resort to black magic of stealin’ kind, then he hasn’t found a way to absorb yer talents. Which means, yah gotta stay alive for fresh ingredients. And well, sometimes humans have sentiments. He might be cracked as a sea witches knees, but its likely the dumb sop has feelers for yah even after this. Maybe he’s a straight fuckin’ igit that thinks he can woo yeah if he destroys everythin’. I duno, humans are strange messy mentally weird things at the best of time.”
Calia had not heard mention of the seven sins often in her life, beyond turns of phrase. It was lore from eons ago, when people still worshipped the old gods and the realm of demons could still bleed into the mortal one like the fae’s. As far as she knew, there were many demon lords always vying for power, but interesting now to know only seven claimed the title of sin. It was hard to imagine Derrick had even managed to get one powerful demon, let alone one titled as an elder power. Yet, here she was walking away from the ruins of her kingdom’s capitol.
And she didn’t even want to think about Derrick’s motivations for keeping her alive and well. Let it be only for her power! Let it be his pride in wanted to prove her wrong, and hopeful spite to see her cowering in fear and defeat. Not that it would matter even if it were some sad attempt at trying to woo her, as Calia’s plans to make him suffer might very well rival that of the Seven Sins themselves.
Only something else stood out as curious, drawing her to furrowing her brow in confusion.
“…what Mad Queen?” she asked. Her mother certainly wasn’t filled with madness. None of the kingdoms beyond Caeldalmor deeper in the mountains had a mad queen as far as Calia knew. Most were tribal clans scattered in the valleys between stone hills. There was an Elven queen in a cliffside kingdom and she was as gentle as a spring breeze.
Unless one wanted to count Calia. If her siblings didn’t make it out of the valley, then… well. Calia would absolutely count as a Mad Queen.
“If he doesn’t want me to die before he can fully take my magic, then that truly does make me invincible now, doesn’t it. What do you think of your fledgling dragon now, Archimedes? A ornery bitch I might be, but a bitchy dragon is dangerous when she has nothing left to lose.”
Now that was interesting.
The multifaceted eyes directed their hold to the woman’s profile. To the means of how her brow crunched up with obvious confusion and asked a question that even caused him to stop his wild insistent yammering. Needing additional seconds to process the fact that saying the Mad Queen was not an instant reveal of information. Making his little antenna twitch and vibrate with pure speculation. And well, “Where is this place we are at, Calia?” Arc decided to ask her instead because by no means less than his word, he really had no idea where the fuck they were. Human geography was never his thing.
All he knew was the mundane realm was decently large. Had different types of people all over and they all pretty much tasted the same.
Beyond that, their location had never been a note in his mind.
Simply listening to this woman when she decided that Derrick’s lack of effort to slaughter her was like that of a shield for her. Making her invincible. Which if he possessed eyebrows currently, he’d be raising them nearly off his head! “Dumplin’, I wouldn’t bet my existence on such a tiny triumphant.” She was not invincible. No more than he was! But he was shaking the little buggy head at her when she spoke his full name and called herself a fledgling dragon now.
He dare hate to admit it, but he found it amusing. “I think yer were dangerous beforehand. But reckless may be the suitable word for what be happenin’ now. Good thing I like the reckless sort and ain’t a frettin’ hen. Let’s just try to use that brain yah got instead of barrellin’ into every scenario if yah wanna get out of this with a kingdom restored.”
Calia wouldn’t consider herself reckless. She’d used logic and been calculating in most of her actions, even if they hadn’t all necessarily been the correct course to take. Really, she just had a lack of self preservation as she didn’t care or fear getting hurt. …well okay, perhaps that DID fall into the definition of being reckless. The princess supposed that while she might be intelligent, she still lacked a certain level of wisdom. Her elder siblings had inherited all of the wisdom in the family while Calia’s talents landed elsewhere.
Single-minded and focused was what she always was. Before having placed all that energy on becoming a Knight of Caeldalmor and then using that knowledge to teach future knights of the kingdom. A simple, humble, happy life. Now Calia had to throw all of her being into learning how to be an assassin. A mercenary? A demon magic fueled menace to all.
Regardless, she was someone else now. Fuck if Calia knew who that was supposed to be.
“We are in the valley kingdom of Caeldalmor within a large mountain range called The Gaelbeinn or The Yeti’s Fangs or the White Gale depending on who you ask.” she answered easily. “It’s… isolated. Most tribes and kingdoms within the mountains are, because the peaks are often too steep to climb. Very few valleys are connected with road paths, you have to go through tunnels that are cut through the stone.”
The information to where they technically were was… not particularly helpful. What he understood was this razed hellhole had once been cupped in the arms of a generous mountain range. Deep enough that departure from this place was in the form of moving through cut tunnels through the very stone that surrounded them.
Difficult work for any mortal man. So isolated was precisely the word to use and exactly why Calia didn’t register the term Mad Queen. “I see.” Arc made use of his limbs to properly scurry up the final bit of her shoulder. Hunkering down to avoid accidentally taking flight while he was truly trying to make sense of this information.
Allowing uncharacteristically a silent to pass between them for a good chunk of time. Eventually, “Yer question. About the Mad Queen.” He seemed strangely hesitant about it. For a moment. “She be another human that struck a deal with those of the horned type. However, her deal is… countlessly old. Most us demon folk know of her. And she makes offerings once in a while, so the rivers of blood are plentiful. However, she is here in the mundane realm. Just yer means of statin’ where we be ain’t helpin’ me none. I couldn’t tell yah the difference between yer kingdom and another.”
He had walked amongst these lands before but well, contracts were contracts. And he was far too busy often perusing the means of the bounty of flesh to really care beyond that!
“Regardless, she be dangerous, petal. I dare say worse than yer bloke of a sorcerer.”
This was the first time the demon had fallen into a contemplative serious silence, which hinted to Calia that this was a warning she needed to heed. Whomever this Mad Queen was, she was problematic enough to be a long term topic for the demon realm. However, Calia had no interesting in taking up heroics to fight all of the evils in the world.
“…if she’s not here in the mountains, then she’s someone else’s problem to deal with.” revealed the princess. “I’m cleaning up the mess I started, I’m not about to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
After a few further moments of silence, when the farmlands gave way to gentle spacing of trees all of that coiled tension in the girl’s back and shoulders started to ease way to something a little more akin to being natural and relaxed. Not something Calia was entirely conscious of beyond knowing they were exposed out in the open space with a clear line of sight. She’d always just been more comfortable surrounded by a forest of trees and hearing the quiet chitters of the deep firs.
It was even a flood of relief when she heard those first few chirps of birds and the rustling of chipmunks in the underbrush. Having not realized until that moment just how frighteningly silent the lands had been after being scoured and devoured of every single living soul. The hoard had not come out this way in a physical sense, which meant the rest of the valley was still living. …for now anyway.
“He isn’t traveling by foot,” she revealed after those quiet moments. “I can feel the pull, but not the where. How can he manage to travel so quickly with an entire hoard of demons in tow?”
“An if yer mess reaches out to that of the Mad Queen and others, then will yah still ignore it?” Arc asked seriously. By no means did he know what all sort of tangles and shit might be rolling around together, but he wouldn’t say it was unlikely either. If there was one thing he did know, demented people liked to flock together.
As they seemed to be blending from one environment into another, he may have scuttled a bit closer to use her hair as a sort of hiding place because birds were assholes. He might be a carrion demon, but he wasn’t about to get plucked off her shoulder to be nom nom’d by some asshole worm eater! Shuffling and tucking in nice and close to where he was shortly intrigued that she noticed that there was a change of pace to movement from her tracked prey.
“Demons have many shapes. Or he can open portals to allow them to shuttle on through. There be possibilities.” Arc mentally raised his brows again, “What yah need to think about now, Calia is this. Yah not trackin’ a mere human. Yer trackin’ a bunch of beings with an array of dark powers. Ones that yah likely could consider fable and fairytale. Outta this realm of possibility. Think logically but know that logic may not always apply.” He wiggled, “Yer talkin’ to a scarab currently, so that ought to be clue enough that thing’s not be as yah be ever expectin’.”
“…I suppose if it is a part of my mess or a consequence of it,” she answered, not so certain about it either way. Calia was not one of those foolish people that thought they could just decided to the save the world. Or save anyone, really! There was a whole capitol of dead people now because Calia had failed at being a hero. Even her motivations were nothing more than selfish revenge, rather than any desire to save anyone. Sparing people from his conquest was just a side effect of her vengeance.
There went that quiet little whisper deep in the dark chasm of her chest. A soft hissing what a terrible person you’ve turned out to be as she mentally sighed and rubbed at the itchy corner of her eye.
Or perhaps itchy in general, with this demon crawling all over her it must’ve been giving her the creepy-crawlies. With a surprisingly gentle reach and grab to pluck him out of his hidey-spot in her hair, Calia opened up palm to hold buggy-beetle demon where she could see him. And not feel those tiny legs tapping her skin.
“Think logically and then throw all logic out the window, is it?” she asked, ever so slightly amused. “Sounds like I should just continue what I am already doing, only leave out the parts where I try to occasionally stab you.”
Well he wasn’t about to be her good natured little conscience or anything. All that really mattered was if there was a likelihood that all this might escape and start terrorizing other places, she might have to loop such things into her plans for settling of scores! Otherwise well, who knows what sort of repercussion just might come to knock on her door the day it all ended.
IF she was able to get that far.
“Hey!Don’tyoudaretrytosquishme!” he chattered out promptly at the fact that she was reaching in and taking him out of the tidy little hiding spot that had and was serving to keep him from being any rogue avian’s lunch! Being turned over to where thankfully he wasn’t a messy smear of bug guts on palm, he looked up at her.
To where she apparently had taken his little spiel to heart. Or close to it, considering its obvious vacancy. “I would prefer the lack of stabbin’. Bloody holes do not woo the ladies. Surprisin, I know.” He flattened himself down on her palm while contemplating in his own skull. Ready to move out of the way if she tried to mash and splash all the same. “What I am sayin’, petal, is demon’s are creatures of chaos. Hellish beasts that don’t go by the same sort of regimented behaviours that human’s magic may follow. It’s wild. It’s powerful and it is very easy to shoot yerself in the foot, per say.”
“The higher the demon rank is, the more wild the dark magic be. That bloke right now is prolly sittin’ on his high horse thinkin’ it all be so easy. But, thoughts like that will be the source of downfall. And I would bet my left hand that whomever is sponsorin’ said gobshite is waitin’ for that day. Because they will enjoy watchin’ ‘im squirm. Contracts get borin’ if the one who is benefittin’ from it ain’t doin’ somethin’ to fuck themselves.”
Calia wasn’t so sure her magic fell into the realm of human, either, but that was a tidbit she’d keep to herself as she didn’t have any real reason to suspect such a thing either. Only that she’d met mages, a wizard or two and even an old hag of a witch deep in the wood. She’d been full of questions and even learned a thing or two, but they all still had their rules and boundaries. Hers was as wild as this demon claimed his own to be.
At least she knew her magic wasn’t demonic, because they were NOT the same! His spicy magic made her feel like she was trying to force her way up from out of the ground.
Still, she gave a soft hum as a reply, needing not to argue about his advice. Betting he’d had plenty of foolish humans to patron and all of them thought they were oh so smart and talented and powerful. Calia only believed she was one of those things, so if he was willing to actually blather out useful knowledge for her, she was apt to take it. At least now that she no longer felt the urge to throw him straight into the sun.
She definitely still hated him, but his buggy form was more tolerable. Finding she had no problem whatsoever in a handsy exchange to hold him in palm and do a bit of gentle prodding to see the patterns on his wings. If he got to crawl all over her for a free ride, then she got to look, damnit!
“Does that mean you’re just waiting for the moment I have time to fuck myself, Archimedes?” Delivering the line with such a deadpan expression, that tone in her voice could’ve been a hallucination.
It was only after a moment that any sort temporary consideration to her prodding and investigating. Accepting the means of her curiosity when it came to looking over the jeweled body of a beetle. Having given his thoughts in general that all demons typically waited for their contractors to eventually get overzealous.
To the point that they burnt themselves.
“Hmm,” antenna twitched, as little legs of plenty folded in on themselves. “I mean, if her just crazed about flinging spells about all willy nilly, then I’d expect yah to do it. But something tells me that yah’d be stubborn to the point of not about to meet that familiar expectation.”
She didn’t thus far appear the sort that liked to lose or to be told not to do something. More the sort that would do the opposite and with a tenacious gumption. If her own escape from the prison cell was anything to go by.
“But I’m also not as high rank demon as them elder ones. My spells have restrictions too, as I said. Blood and that. So yah might not have to worry about burstin’ apart. And well, my spells aren’t so explosive. At least not yet… I ain’t found someone with that type of magic to take.”
The fir forest around them grew more dense the farther along the path she walked. Going from this rich emerald to a dark, deep evergreen. A different sort of hush was over the old forest now, of simple daytime birds and the songs of crickets rubbing legs in the bushes. It smelled richly of earth and juniper and spring honeysuckle, and despite the fact there was nothing but a barren hellscape being left far behind them, here in this forest things were as they always were.
“I see,” she answered easily, though there was something there in that simple statement and the way the corner of her mouth twitched. Calia gave him a gentle patpat with the tip of her finger, suddenly seeming to be the most attentive student to his yammering statements.
“…so you are saying that initially you thought I’d make a terrible blunder at fucking myself and now you believe that when I do fuck myself I am going to exceed expectations.” she suggested, with a breezy lit. “And that you will be little help with your… lack of explosive might.”
The tip-tapping of finger was a bit curious. Watching the surprisingly gentle digit making its work about prodding lightly while it appeared she was truly taking interest or studying in the verbal sense his commentary. Till she was asking a query and well, he was chuckling softly. “I believe that yer anger will get the better of yah, yes. But yah won’t have to worry about explodin’ yerself with a ball of ragin’ inferno.”
Truly he was expecting her to meet a foe that just looked at her the wrong way and she would be a fist flailing, leg kicking, curse dropping venomous harpy that will stop at nothing to pluck eyeballs out with the flick of her fingers! Using whatever tools were presently there with a wild abandon because she dare not be fooled, duped or thought lesser of. She would be the victor by any means necessary.
“I just don’t have any particular spells right now that are massively explosive. Quite literally. I have yet to find someone that has such abilities that I want. So yah be safe for the time being petal.”
Calia also suspected her anger – nay, her rage would be her inevitable demise. That she felt down to the very fiber of her bones. While she had no idea how she was going to behave when she did finally catch up to that enormous asshole, the princess was well aware the results were going to be violent and devastating to anyone within reach of her borrowed magic. Explosive, maybe not. But Calia intended to make sure there was a sort of suffering that none had ever seen before.
In this singular moment, though, she was blinking at the jeweled demon in her hand with a surprised dubiousness.
“For a demon that claims to be a sultry minx, you’ve let at least three of my double entendres just slip on by without even a single salacious bit of cheeky commentary. Makes me wonder if you exaggerate your talents on all fronts, or if you’re simply that concerned you’re little jaunt through the mortal realm is going to be cut short.”
It could have been a little of both, Calia bet. As she had yet to see what was so charming for the ‘fillies’, unless he meant actual horses. Because Calia sure didn’t see the appeal beyond the pretty face, even with those glowing horns!
The entirety of his being had stalled then and there. Thinking back to the commentary she had made and seeing the clear double entendres. Only that he wasn’t exactly at the moment that concerned about them and now it would have been too much just to flip back with colourful commentary. Instead flicking antenna around as he just laid there. “And?” he wasn’t about to fall victim to her ploy nor was he about to make some hasty try at it all now.
Just that she was commenting about his ability to mingle and pull the fairer sex into that of arms alike. Good for her that he couldn’t give her much of a suppressed glare in this form but he huffed. “Yah be seemin’ awfully concerned about whether or not I can be perform. Is it because yah want me to rock yer fucked up world or jealously at this point that I haven’t made an effort to try with yah?” He was liable to be thrown, he knew that. But she seemed like she was pressing at his abilities in such ways that he was wondering if Calia wanted him to hit on her!
“I don’t bother with my contractor, if yah worried. And I won’t be devourin’ any pretty little maids either. Ain’t much fun if they are dead. I ain’t into that necrophilia stuff.”
Calia burst into a short stilted laugh – genuine in that brief fraction of a moment before she caught it with a sharp intake of breath and an inward cringe. Where did she have any business in finding humor and laughing at things now. What was so broken and wrong within her that she thought she was even allowed after all that’d happened! Down into the box of inappropriate feelings it went, to be locked away where it belonged.
She lay laid her other hand over him, as a little prison of fingers. No intent to harm or fling him into the woods, only a desire to make this demon feel ever so slightly unsafe and toy with him. Confident that he deserved having someone give him a hard time, and if she couldn’t continue to take swings with a knife there were at least other ways to torment.
“Usually when one is a braggart they’re over compensating in some way,” Calia did admit. “But it is good to know that I don’t need to put you in a jar. Chase all the ladies you like, if they’ll have you. If we’re going to travel the mountains murdering people, I’d like to at least make sure it’s ones that deserve it.”
As fingers moved to be that of a bony cell, the multifaceted stare found her. Liable to be narrowing in the means of mental hold but outwardly he was merely flicking antenna and fluttering the carapace of shell. Adjusting wings to peek and shift beneath its protective hold as this woman with green eyes seemed to have found both humour in the moment. Unclear to what part tickled her so perfectly; Arc just waited.
“I’m a braggart in my dues. Earned what I got.” Pointing back at her. Turning eventually around in the false cage to look forward, he huffed at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone tried puttin’ me in a jar.”
It didn’t exactly work well considering he could get out of it. He wasn’t just a bug after all, he had a more humanoid appearance and the more true form that was reserved for only the best suited moments. But there was little reason to continually boast such things, instead listening as she suggested he was allowed to fraternize with the pretty dames as he liked. So long as they would have him, while being sure that his more murderous intentions were aimed at those that were to be decided by her choice.
“Just be makin’ sure if yah slaughterin’ demons, to kill ones of purpose. I ain’t got use for bags of bones that have no hearts worth covetin’ for snacks.” He suggested with no means of hiding its darker intent.
Bumping head to the top of hand, “Where be this place yah spoke about? I will be best suited not to appear as such when we approach so yah don’t look nearly as mad as a hatter talkin’ to a pretty beetle.”
There was an intrusive urge to shake him inside her finger prison. Shake him and rattle him about before whistling for a lark to come down and have a little treat. Calia did consider it as she flattened her hand atop his beetle form until there was nothing left but a single hole for him to peer his little buggy face out of.
“I suppose if I’m to be a demon hunter, it would be a waste of time to hunt unworthy prey,” she agreed. Not that Calia wouldn’t glad kill every demon she came across, but the princess wasn’t stupid. …or rather, she was stupid about other things. When it came to hunting, she knew a thing or two! When it came to hunting, you needed to conserve energy and time. Nor should you kill what couldn’t be useful. Although she wasn’t sure how these ethics were going to play out in her grand scheme of vengeance.
Even now she was battling that alluring thought of just a quick squishing of her new patron. But then where would she be? Nowhere good!
“It is not much farther,” she told him instead, finally release him from his tiny prison to gently place him on the cuff of her wrist. “An Inn called Twelve Oaks with a tavern and stables for horses. It’s the last stop for travelers before they reach the capitol, or the first stop for those leaving.”
The vice of her hands closed further and further. Leaving him little space to look through and was then giving his best you better fucking not expression that could be mustered to a creature that had no expressions! Offering a little hiss instead before she was thankfully stopping from finding out what a third time attempting to kill him was going to result in!
“Much appreciated in that regard. If yah wanna have a fightin’ chance, then gettin’ rid of the ones that be strong and lettin’ me do what I want with their parts will certainly be the best.” If she wanted to fight Derrick, then he would also have to be stronger. And well, if it meant taking down stupid demons that he didn’t care about besides a tasty bloody snack, then so be it! It would give her a chance to hack and slash freely as well. While making a statement certainly.
With some relief that she just released him to allow his body to be upon that of wrist, he hung out there. Listening as she declared their next location wasn’t terribly too much farther. With even some information such as a name and it was a tavern. Which meant drink. “Perfect.” But a question arose, “Yah seem to know well of it, frequent it often, petal?”
“I do not like to be stationary for long,” Calia revealed. Pausing her thoughts there to mull over the hows and whys, and what that even actually meant. The princess loved her home with all her heart – never one to want to be away from it for long. Yet, there was this part of her that needed to… be free? To run! Begging to go on every trip that she’d been allowed when she was younger, only to push the boundaries of how far she could go when she’d grown older and bolder. Having a special place in her heart for the horses she cared for… and bitterly knowing they were gone now too.
“But yes I have frequented there often enough. I know all of Caeldalmor as well as I knew the castle.”
One could not do all their flirtings within a single village after all. Calia had her own vices and one cannot keep secrets if you frequent the same place too often.
As promised it was only a bit of walking further, with her making a soft subtle count of how many trees they passed before her pace slowed down to an eventual stop. The path she’d been walking went from a small woodland path to an actual worn dirt road – one she notably didn’t step a foot on. In fact, there was a sudden twisting dread in her stomach at approaching even a glimpse of another mortal living human. Locals knew her by name and there was no doubt in her mind that news about the capitol had spread by now. Anyone that hadn’t fled to the western pass would’ve headed on into the forest to warn others.
“If you follow the road you will find the building a few yards up. I’m not sure if anyone will be there when you do find it, but do as you will. I’ll be in the woods.”
Something about being told she didn’t like to be stationary, seemed like it settled on his mind. In a way that was foreign and warranted a look in her direction. Whatever it was that pressed upon is head was carefully kept in place. Eyeing his little contractee as she added on that she had been out here enough to know it.
Alongside how well she knew of her lands and the castle in conjunction.
From the sounds of it, Calia was starting to paint herself as a wild knight lost in the woods with the bears and birds. A sort of quiet feral thing which in turn could be very advantageous to him. That alone would need some further prodding to decide if she was truly just a rabbit disguised as a human, or if there was more reason to her running away from that of the populace that probably had once upon a time looked at her as a royal importance.
He wasn’t sure.
Only that when the means of approach finally came closer, he was fluttering off wrist. Properly returning to that of a towering appearance of horns, fang and claw. Brushing palms along gauntlets a moment before well, colour him surprised. Looking at her expressing knowledge of direction but turning to potentially scurry back to the woods. “Would it not be of better use of yer skills and ire to be talkin’ with potential locals to know what they seen? The means of demon hoards. Eyes upon the little darklin’ brat that stole yer heart quite literally. The ins and outs. Even I know tongues waggle in crisis and if yah wanna find information,” Arc literally pointed the way she had motioned, “Yah need to chew threw the fat to get to it. Unless yer that scared all the sudden.”
He looked her up and down, “Not to mention I may have said I wouldn’t kill the ladies, didn’t mean I wouldn’t still consider men to be fuel for flame.” Arc arched a brow at her, “Yah guna really let a demon waltz into the middle of potential livin’ beings and shrug.”
Here in the evergreen firs, surrounded by nothing but flora and fauna and the quiet innocence of nature, Calia felt safe and secure. Enough so that she was finally able to give him a full up and down perusal beyond quick angry glances and the need to flee. In this man-shaped form he towered over her in a way that was fully annoying. Calia was near six feet herself, so used to staring men in the eyes or looking down at them and yet, here he was! Towering over her like a mountain moose! With the horns to match, no less, as if he had a nebula trapped within them. His hair was ridiculous and his ears would put any elf to shame. He’d said others would not see him this same way, but how could they not? He was visually loud!
And so was his mouth. Calia crossed her arms loosely, furrowing her brow as he popped off more of his professorial lecturing. Tempted to ask him if he were a demon of conscience and intended to spend their journey sitting on her shoulder crowing about Right Ways and Wrong Ways and did she not care about all of the people.
The irony was not lost on her. Nor was his blatant goading and calling her scared.
“I imagine if I’m going to be doing all of the dangerous slaying, you could make good use of yourself during the laying portion and ask questions yourself. You do seem to love being full of useful information. You’re also no likely to go killing men left and right, as that’s not going to impress any of these ladies you’re wanting to be after,” she added pointedly. Murder never wooed anyone. Not anyone Calia had ever met, anyway!
“Besides, I have no money and I ought not waste anyone’s time,” she excused easily. “I can hunt to feed myself and I ought to find a stream to wash up in before I go walking in anywhere covered in dried blood and gore.”
“Good use of myself.” Repeating it back to be sure he heard it all clearly, effectively rolling eyes in the means of his own skull. “While I do like being informed, this thing between us, dumplin’ is of very little use to me. Outside keepin’ my boredom at bay. And yer puttin’ an awfully lot of stock in assumin’ that I wouldn’t go about rattlin’ bones in more ways than one.” Bright rings went up and down her for a long moment.
“Who says I wouldn’t bed first and kill after?” He posed the question purposefully with a slow devious smirk ever crawling onto angular features. “Dessert first then dinner. I ain’t against doing things backwards as it were.”
Cradling palms up behind that of neck, shoulders made a dull lazy shrug. “Sounds like yer just being cowardly rather than havin’ any sort of thoughts of how yah guna get deets on Derrick. But do as yah wish.” If she was only going to be bold enough to spit curses at him and do nothing else, then so be it. He wasn’t about to keep offering any sort of guidance to her goal if that be the case.
Taking a long backstep so he could eye her wickedly. “All that pomp before and now comes the wallowin’. Hmm, well I suppose the former princess chivalry was merely a farce in its own way. Have at it. Yah enjoy yer forest and don’t come cryin’ or screamin’ later if there’s less village than there had been originally.” Turning about face to give a teasing little wave of fingers, “Slán, dandelion.”
Despite the fact Calia knew damn well he was trying to needle her and press some sort of fiery reaction out of her, she still felt it. That itching, burning desire to draw up one of his cookie-cutter little spells and unleash his own hell right back at him. Her thumb even tapping against her arm as if she were literally thumbing through the pages of a spellbook searching for just the right thing.
Or resisting throwing another dagger at him, that was also true.
Calia didn’t believe he would have desert first, as he said. Then again, it was well proven her sense of someone’s character was absolute garbage. Apt to believe the best in anyone, even if they were an actual demon standing right in front of her telling her intended to cause mayhem!
She really shouldn’t be around anyone. A walking curse to the living world no matter what she did. So did it even matter if Calia let him go fuck and eat everyone, if when it was just as likely to have some other horrid scenario happen due to her just walking in?
“I never said I was a chivalrous person,” she muttered with obvious annoyance. Arms still crossed, but seeming to propel herself forward to follow. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I told you I wasn’t a good person. Nor do I believe any of your obnoxious bullshit, I think you just enjoy having a witness to all of your nonsense.”
A brow popped up immediately when he heard her come stepping after him. Shortly aligning in step while suggesting that she had never said she was a chivalrous person. “Yah didn’t deny it either.” Arc offered back with a easy toothy grin. Akin to the cat that got the fattest canary out of the cage with no one the wiser.
“Oh please, yah whiny mouth may say one thin’ but if yah truly believed it, yah would have fucked off somewhere already.” Flicking fingers through the air in a motion of dislodging her nonsense but still chuckled at her suggestion that he needed a witness to his nonsense. “As if yah don’t wanna see it. Let’s just admit here and know, Calia, yah might actually be curious to see what sort of nonsense there is to be a witness too.”
He leaned a bit closer, “Didja know yer awfully easy to influence with the right word. It’s dare say a cute and absolutely terrible quality.” The demon purred at this. Pleased as a pig in fresh shit that whatever had made her decidedly change her mind, she was now coming along. And maybe he did need a witness to the nonsense because well, he was the sort that liked attention.
Liable to skip along at this rate as they approached the very abode. It was intact actually and with a glow to the windows suggested there was at least a little bit of life inside. Although he grew more cautious upon the approach. Eyeing the world with due consideration, he didn’t get the smell of blood from here. Either it had been entirely passed over or those of any sense of wit had long since bailed from the place.
Regardless, he happily stepped up to pull the front door open in a flourish. Glanced at her but didn’t hold it open for her. Not about to offer special treatment as one stepped into the maw of the Twelve Oaks and found there was at least a small collection of people.
And immediate set sights upon a young blond woman looking to have been setting dirty tankards from tray to bar. Sparing no moment but to whisk over and lightly pluck the tray from hand, “Such a delicate love ought not to be spendin’ her efforts on such labour.” Arc grinned brightly to that of the stunned blue eyed woman. Her blinking up at him, likely seeing him mostly as is save for no horns, fangs or claw. Blue replaced with brown and violet to brown. Rosy cheeked and gentle seeming, “Let me, love. Let me.”
“Oh…” She blushed and he was half tempted to look over at Calia with a smug twist but resisted, “Thank you.”
“It is that of my honour and grace to help. Yer must have been on yer feet all day, darlin’. Please, allow me to be of assistance!” The blush deepened and he happily placed each tankard to bar top. Flipping tray under arm, so he could scoop hand and lightly pat and pet it. “My lady, please, let me help yah in any way this evenin’. A tender thing deserves to be waited upon, does she not? I am fresh to the scenery so yah may have to forgive my forwardness. It has been a long age since I laid eye on a beautiful woman.”
Calia hated him. Hated, hated, hated him. As if someone had plucked every ugly part of herself and stuffed it into this muppet of a man and gave him horns. Because the worst part about Archimedes was that he was rarely mistaken. With every dumb assumption he made about her, he dropped ten times more nasty little truths right at her feet where she was forced to look at them. If she didn’t care at all, she could be anywhere in the world now. Go become a completely new person and forget all about Caeldalmor and everyone in it. If she wasn’t so easily wound up and twisted around with a few well placed words, then none of this mess would’ve happened in the first place. She could be at home in her bed dreaming the night away.
Or here in this tavern finding her own pretty blond to wander away with!
He was wrong about her wanting to witness the trouble he was about to get up to though. The second they’d walked into the small rest stop, her hackles had risen, her stomach had twisted up in knots. Calia wanted nothing more than to be invisible, or back out in the woods where she could actually breathe. The last time she’d seen a living soul, a city was burning, people were burning, and there was just enough smoke from a stoked fireplace and lit cigars for that memory to be sickeningly fresh.
Inside the tavern was no better, for Calia was so painfully aware of every single person within the building. Living their lives when so many others no longer could. What else were they supposed to do, really? The world didn’t stop just because everyone around you has died.
Bury it. Into the box it goes.
“Careful with those hands, love,” she muttered on passing the pair. “He gets a bit handsy and suddenly you’re covered in critters. Certainly has had me itching all day.”
Calia said she’d let him chase after ladies, she didn’t promise she wouldn’t make it harder, though. Moving with easy memory over to the darkest, most secluded booth in the whole joint. If she had to bear witness to his bullshit, then she was going to do so out of sight and away from the living. Information was just as easily gathered by sitting quietly and listening, then when he was off on his wild romp she was going to escape back to the quiet anonymity of the trees!
It was immediate. The scathing look that was offered to his ever so endearing contractee when she decidedly passed by and offered commentary that unfortunately make the little deer’s eyes go wide. And he offered breezy laugh, patting her hand again. “Yah’ll have to forgive my companion, she’s been near wild from livin’ in the forest for some time. She tends to forget whom helped whom with said bugs.” He could have shot her a glare with murderous intent.
Sure that she was just being a surely mopstick again because she had selected to let his commentary get the better of her. Still she had managed to instill uncertainty and he was liable to leap over there and strangle Calia himself.
“Let me help yah,” he offered again and the blond at least looked still a little interested. “Just be steerin’ clear of that one. She’s liable to tell yah horror stories with the same culture as a wild boar.” Arc gave the chaste brushing of lips across the little bar maid’s knuckles, “I be yers to command, wee love.”
She smiled and for a moment he was relieved that he might not have to find some other little delicate dame to sway and swoon into his arms. But he was liable to prove just how utterly nasty he could be if he was stopped from it. After all Calia said he was allowed too. But should she interfere, well… he would show his appreciation for her interference in way he knew she would respond too.
No one liked having a severed head in their bed after all.
Calia might’ve given him the smuggest little smile she could muster if she weren’t busy trying to encase herself into a shroud of nothingness. Tucking herself into the booth where the candlelight of the tavern couldn’t quite reach. Even blowing out the one on the table for the extra shroud of darkness. A week ago had she caught someone doing this sort of broody nonsense she might have cackled herself to the floor. The dramatics of it wasn’t lost on her! If she had her own magic it would’ve been easy enough to fade into the background, such a simple glamor of being unremarkable. Now all she had was this unfamiliar demon magic that was riddled with rules and structure and useless specifics.
At least if she were alone in the forest she could practice and test the boundaries with it. Instead here she was in a corner demon-sitting while this slut of a man wooed a tavern maid! She prayed the girl had more sense than- well. Herself.
Maybe by the next tavern they stumbled on, Calia would have that familiar itch to get up to something fun. Only in the present thinking about it filled her with a renewed sense of nausea for such a wide variety of reasons that she wasn’t so sure she’d ever want to talk to someone again, let alone going through the motions of a flirtatious flop. Calia had always felt like a creature masquerading as a human before and now that feeling was ten times worse, as she was not just pretending to be human, but pretending to be alive!
Spitefully, as she folded her arms on the table and rest her head on them, the princess hoped the demon’s romp went woefully unsatisfying. Better yet, to catch himself a crotch full of critters himself. Pretty ladies in taverns that fell into bed easily usually weren’t as sweet and demure and innocent as they liked to let foolish menfolk believe, anyway!
“Goodness.” Someone spoke up as they had made their way over to the dark table as one might expect for any tavern. Be the jubilant sort or the brooding kind, they had to make sure that everyone was at least tended to at least once. And thus far it was evident that the flirty dark haired man was busy laying it on thickly that even June was being bashfully coy with the fellow. Leaving her as the older woman to deal with customers.
“Welcome to the Twelve Oaks,” she decided to get on with her spiel rather than watching the spectacle that was man and woman, and instead directing attention to other woman that had apparently been at least known to the coquettish fellow. Not that she was jealous or anything either. “What can I bring you, miss?”
Shit! So much for fading into the background, Calia had been perceived. Forced to lift her head and desperately grasping for any sort of mental mask that would be sure she at least wasn’t rude to a woman that was just trying to earn her day’s wage.
“I don’t have any coin today,” she admitted evenly. “Nothing for me. My…” she hesitated, searching for a word that wasn’t a curse. Dipshit Demon seemed a little too on the nose. “…my companion has apparently volunteered himself to servitude for his own libations, I guess.”
Had she the coin, Calia might’ve ordered him an ale with salt dumped in it. Alas, the best she could do was ruin his charms and Calia had sense enough to know when to push boundaries and when to leave it alone. Two times trying to stab him and one snide remark to a lady was cutting it close, if those glares he shot her was any indication.
Apparently she really did still want to live. What a pain in the ass.
“If you need the table, I can go.” she finally said. “I’m just here because he’s a prima donna when he’s drunk.”
A curious look was made at the woman in the booth and how she expressed there was no coin available at her purse. Fine, not every person had coin to burn, but she readily made comment towards the man that was successfully thus far managing to woo and get June to be slowly flirtatious back. It wouldn’t be surprising if they disappeared at one point, surely.
“Naw, you’re fine.” Shaking her head only to motion around the mostly empty tap room. “We aren’t so busy that you need to bustle out. Especially if you are just watching.” Although the fellow hadn’t ordered anything, seeming far too occupied with June, she was left to shrug. “If you need anything, just give a holler. Water is always free. It’s safer in here anyways from what I’ve heard from the few people that passed by. So stay and rest in the booth.”
“Ah, yah best be eatin’ something, lass.” It seemed the two had managed to make their way around only for him to have wrapped an arm about slender shoulders and other hand to be spinning a small satchel about finger. Tossing it to table, “She gets a right bit ornery when her gullet hasn’t been filled, aye, Lia.” He wasn’t calling her by her actual name or any pet name currently. Though where did he get the coin from? “Make sure yah get her nice and filled, less I be dealin’ with a angry warrioress come morrow.” Flashing Calia a look that was both playful and somewhat serious.
What a waste of skin she’d be if she didn’t at least pretend to be mortal in some capacity. “She be likin’ them furry four legged beasts too if yah need someone to tend to their noses. Sure it would be better suited for Lia than her souring like brine in the seat.”
Cow eyes fluttered sweetly and he just might be using a trick of his won at this point. “Oh, that’s so nice of you to be so caring, Arc.”
“Mmm,” he beamed smugly and doted a little peck to the woman’s head. “Aye, someone gotta watch her. She’s a flamin’ tongue and spicy as all get out to any and all. Hurlin’ all sorts of demeanin’ things of no truth because she akin to a prickly pear but I’d be remiss if she starved or bored herself to death.” He looked to the waitress, “Treat her well, miss aye. Yah, be nice to the staff. They ain’t done nothin’ but offering hospitality.” Was that a threat or not? It was not clear but Arc gave June a squeeze, “Yah were guna show me about, wee love.”
“Oh right! I was. Okay, f-follow me.”
Dubious disbelief watched that little satchel of coins hit the table, then it was Calia’s narrow eyed stared drifting back up to the demon and his chosen dessert for the night. Not sure if this shortened form of her name was worse than the pet names he liked to call her or better, but finding she was far more irritated with that fact that he was painting her as a wild mare about to kick up a fuss and the merest slight – as if she’d take her anger out on any of these innocent people! Maybe she wasn’t chivalrous and didn’t have any urge to be a charging hero, but she wasn’t an asshole!
She didn’t trust this sudden appearance of coin anymore than she trusted the young lady’s interest in him. If it was all just charm and words alone, Calia would leave it well enough alone. If the girl made her mistakes with some pretty tart that knew how to talk, then those were hers to make. But if the demon was using something else to be alluring, that was… well. Calia didn’t like it. It wasn’t right to use magic in such a way.
So Calia sucked in the deepest of breaths and let out a long mournful sigh as he attempted to make a retreat with his night’s catch.
“It’s true, my moodswings these days have been absolutely wretched. I guess I should have a meal to keep my strength up. All he really seems to care about now is our baby, I suppose I shouldn’t punish the poor unborn thing for it’s father’s lecherous behaviors.”
“What!?” They may as well have been a trio of singers for how they all responded in succinct unanimity. Save that was all they shared for after a moment when Calia’s bloody lie sunk down into that of both the elder barmaid and this fresh little peach, they were suddenly looking at him as if he had been any sort of parental value. And even if he was, why the hell would he sow his seed ever into this princess turned twat!
He’d sooner lay with an actual pig!
The elder barmaid huffed nosily. Her features arranging into proper disgust by a lie, “I shouldn’t even surprised anymore,” she scoffed bitterly and he felt June attempting –the word being attempting- to slid out from under his grasp.
With eyes turned momentarily upon Calia as she decided she truly did want to see what happened when he was finally properly pissed off, he glared a moment. Only that the wheels were turning and his grasp slipped from that of June’s shoulders to hold tight to that of back. Inciting that she was to stay put, as he offered a malformed grin that was directly aimed to the princess. “And that be three,” the word warped. Twisting in on itself that the voices of one turned into three itself.
And he chuckled softly. Turning into a proper laugh before the grasp on June tightened while leveling the dark gaze upon the daughter of a kingdom that truly just didn’t know when to stop testing her luck. Arc gave a slight turn to his head, “Just be rememberin’ petal, it’s on your hands.” It was a sudden sound.
Bone grinding and cracking upon itself as the sickening squelch as the young maid that could have been so easily no more than a midnight fancy, gasped. Blood draining from face while features turned to look down to where hand had ever so helpfully sought exit through ribs. Letting the torn beating vessel fall with a sickening splat to the floor as the maid slumped forward that he shook her off his arm just as inconsequentially.
And the elder barmaid began to scream. Causing him to a bright grin before nodding to Calia, “Please Princess Calia, direct me by lady.” Arc wobbled as he offered her a deranged grin, “I be at your command. Tell me more… do more. I follow the witch princesses call. Yes… yes I do…”
The place erupted in horror. Proper, palpable horror.
And he dropped to his knees. Giving a performance of a lifetime. Scuttling forward with a possessed hold, “Y… you want them all to die… o-of course my lady.” Arc looked up from under his bangs at her. Serpentine gaze privately burning hot in ripe fury at her but if she was going to go play a dangerous game, he was going to make it hard for her to keep being simply the bad guy. “As you wish, my lady. A… as you wish!”
Immediately he leapt up but in turn he assured that whatever contracted powers had been offered, she could feel the separation from them as well. Turning wildly to face the screaming elder barmaid with a delectable infatuated grin, “For Princess Calia!” And the maid ran much to his own delight.
Calia ought to have been screaming too, yet there she was sitting in that booth as frozen as a statue with that furrowed brow and blank expression. In shock for certain because she’d expected him to lash out, only it was meant to be directed at her and not that poor innocent girl. What a fine spectacle he made of it too, calling her by her title and setting the seed of witch princess. These people had already narrowly escaped a massacre and now they were getting toyed with by a demon that apparently didn’t value anything as much as his own dick.
That insidious little voice deep down hiding in the corners of her empty heart whispered and hissed.
Look at what you’ve done now. By your own hands.
“Like hell it is,” snarled Calia to the voice. To the demon too that’d now gone too far and broken that already fragile thread of trust they might’ve had for this ill conceived, mistake of a contract.
Alright, then. Witch princess it was.
“GET OUT OR BURN,” she shouted to the already emptying tavern, just in case there was some fool left huddling under a table or standing by thinking they were going to try something heroic. Calia already sliding out of her seat and drawing out her sword with an eerie sort of calm on her outside demeanor that sure as hell didn’t match the brittle, charred pieces of her soul that were still clinging desperately to her missing heart. That stoic exterior didn’t match the way she inwardly, desperately was grasping at a thread of magic – didn’t matter if it was her own or the demon’s – she reached for it and tried to yank it back so hard that she could something snapping.
“You arrogant son of a bitch, I wanted to stay in the woods!” came her first shrieking declaration along with a pointed, controlled swipe of her sword. He’d move quick, she knew, didn’t stop her from advancing to do it again. “I sat down and was leaving you be! You could have done as you wanted!” Another advance, another swipe. “All you had to do was leave me alone!“
Then with a quick sudden switch, instead of swinging at him she was hooking that tip of sword into one of the lanterns on the wall and flinging it at the bar back where all of those fancy bottles of mead, ale, and liquors lined the shelves. Letting it erupt into it’s own waterfall of flames. He wanted mayhem and chaos, well here it was!
One of them wouldn’t leave this tavern alive, and Calia didn’t give two shits which one.
He wasn’t sure if she had simply forgotten or was so deep in her own mind that the recollection that he was a demon, had simply fallen out. Not that it mattered. There had been a fair warning to her before that he wouldn’t play nice the third time she decided to mess with him. However, he had never stipulated that interfering with something he merely wanted as a whim would be part of that. But then again, she never asked.
As the tavern was set to the sounds of panicked screams and wails, he found himself looking over that of shoulder to the rising daughter of plague. Giving her an eye up and down. How she snarled something about how like hell, and erupted in a shout of threat and likely warning.
Feeling momentarily she was searching for that connection of magic only for him to mentally roll his eyes. It was not hers to own and he would not allow her to have it. Putting down the figurative block that was clear that it would not be passed, he turned as she came shrieking. Yelling about how she wanted to stay in the woods. How she had left him be –had she with her commentary and ability to ruin a simple matter of fun. Exchanging it into terror- and the final piece of just how all he had to do was leave her alone.
Where he was calm about simply stepping back or side stepping in avoidance.
Cupping hands behind his back with a strange manner of calm and well, even as she decidedly took the nearest lantern to fling into the wall so it too could burst into flames, he offered her a cheery smile. “No one said yah had to come. I merely goaded, yah took it.” Arc shrugged and stepped back again, “Yah awfully quick to blame others for when it is yer choice to do somethin’. I warned yah twice but yah had to poke. And if there’s one thin’ I’ve learn thus far, is to make sure yah be understandin’ is to make yah see red.” Arc huffed. Turning into a low unamused chuckle.
Before he hopped backwards a good few feet. Then another as people had fled from the entrance of the tavern in shrilling panic. Where he grinned and gave a waggle of fingers.
“Don’t forget, Calia. Yah made the deal with me as a demon. It could have been respected if yah stopped tryin’ to push my buttons. But yah didn’t so, enjoy yer destruction.” Tilting his chin up at her, he hopped out the front door a good six feet. Then another till he was neatly across what might have been a street to look at the tavern coming to roast.
Idly turning eyes to blooded fingers with a slight sigh. “She was a pretty one, so sad.”
There it was. That single minded, laser sharp focus. With every foot he jumped back, she kept following with sword gripped tight in hand. Not a single ounce of notice for the tavern made of naught but wood and tar and dust that was now catching flame at a rate that was truly spectacular thanks to all of that booze. No awareness for the people screaming and fleeing, the animals they took with them, or the horrified looks they’d send in her direction, likely seeing that very witch with her cold stony features and a simmering fury. Everything she had left in her – all of that fury and bitter violence – now had a new target.
You’re nothing without the magic, purred that inner voice, nothing good.
“Look at the pot calling the kettle black!” she shouted back, menacingly following without breaking into a run. She’d be able to find him no matter where he ran. Another consequence of the stupid contract. “You goad and taunt so I react, and then you cannot handle it when it comes back to you! So fragile of ego you can’t let it go, you have to punish me for the bullshit YOU STARTED.”
“Don’t give what you can’t take, you sanctimonious fuck!”
The dagger came out to join sword then, and Calia very nearly threw it before she remembered just how quick he could be. If she had any sense she might’ve remembered that it was pointless to fight a demon at all, but it was madness in control now and it was feeding from bottomless well. Stalking after him until she was close enough to take those swings and swipes, with clear intent that there would be no stopping until one of them dropped dead!
Well this was entertaining, now wasn’t it. Watching this hell boar of a woman decidedly come from beyond that of the tavern she set ablaze. Considering its igniting pyre with private delight till it seemed that the little miss was going to just be a bit of a pain.
Just missing the frothing at the mouth as she yelled at him. Something about a kettle being black?
How he suspected all this wasn’t entirely aimed at him. A good portion was, and well deserved. But did she think he had morals or alignment to that of the human realm? That he cared? Not particularly. So when she was suggesting a lot of nonsense, he just sighed. Scratching at his cheek, but stepping back as she carried now a dagger and sword.
Using that means of alert in his head that foretold the brazen acts of her attempt to hack and slash. Keeping the hold on magic though he did let her get a few dings and cracks when he moved that of wrist up to use gauntlets to deflect. “So are yah mad at me, or yerself?” Arc asked rather curiously. At least before he did the same tactic of retreating a good bounce away but made a flourish of hand. A faint outline of purple edging claw tips that manifested that of a ethereal looking hand.
Sweeping out to either swat or grab her into place. Uncaring to which succeeded but used the ability to his own desire to poke and prod. “If yer so angry, then say it. One word and it ends. Here. Now.” Offering her the chance to cut the contract. “But don’t be blamin’ me for all this when yah know that I be a demon. I do what I do.” Grinning playfully, “Fragile ego and all.”
Despite the wildness of her temperament, it did not reflect in the way she used her body. Those years of dedicated training were evident in how easily controlled in every step she took and every swing she made. Even mixed up in all that madness, she seemingly could take information in at fast glances to move quick and catch him off guard, to swing harder when she saw an opening.
So when that ghastly magical shade of purple appeared, there was no surprise in her that he’d summoned it up at all and she was just as quick to hop and stumble out of the way of any attempt he made to keep her stationary.
“Oh it’s YOU I’m mad at,” she declared with full confidence. “A deal goes both ways, you fuck! A demon does as he does, but so do I! You don’t escape the consequences any more than I do.”
The true problem here was that Calia didn’t know when to stop. Or maybe she did know when to stop but she no longer cared. For the more he denied her the use of his magic, the more Calia reached and search and tugged and yanked for anything. It didn’t matter where it came from, the madness demanded it now.
And she found it.
Surging up fast from somewhere far and dark, through her until those crystalized bits of frost began climbing from her fingers over hilt of dagger and sword. The smile that grew along with it was purely feral.
“F–” Calia took in a breath, making the first motion of a word – A fine to end the contract? A fuck you? It didn’t get a chance to come out, for that surge of something she’d grasped onto snapped backwards so suddenly it took her with it back a few paces until she was bent forward with a strangled surprised gasp. The frost gone when her weapons slipped from her hands.
A mistake. She’d made such a huge, terrible mistake.
Then the agony started. If there was a soul still in her body, it was being twisted and shredded and stabbed with burning claw. Raw and endless until it had squeezed the very breath out of her lungs, scraped across her skull until blood seeped from her nose. A pain so awful she might’ve done anything in the moment to make it stop, to reach for her own dagger and cut her throat to be free from it. Except…
I want to live.
A single, final stubborn thought before the world went black. If Calia were lucky she’d not wake up. Unfortunately the Princess of Caeldalmor was very, very cursed.
“Blah blah blah.” He unceremoniously made a shooing motion when she was attempting to prattle at him about how a deal went both ways. Sure, she wasn’t wrong but he also hadn’t done anything on his side of things that were outside the box for exactly what he was.
A demon.
Sure he had been very unhappy that she had successfully ruined the one thing she had stated he could do with a comment that he had even remotely laid a fucking finger on her –talk about gross- and he just reacted exactly how he wanted. A mess. A bloody mess that had more innocent blood spilt with her happily adding onto the shit cake by torching the only seemingly decent place for people to huddle in amongst this world of pure delightful chaos. Sure he had murdered the girl but he hadn’t done the rest. That was all her.
So she could take her imperialistic point of view and shove it where the sun didn’t shine.
Yet she was truly akin to that of a mad boar more than ever. Acting like all sense and reason had properly left her. Which maybe it had never been there in the first place. Not his problem either.
What might become his problem was the fact she was evading the mage hand and momentarily he had awe sparking on features when she raised up that of hand clenched with dagger. Letting frost that was certainly none of his magic come over and well, she looked exactly like the deranged she-beast that she seemed to be conflicting that she was and wasn’t.
Parting lips to say something and… well…
It seemed that her magic wasn’t in very much accordance with her. As one might have believed with it being sucked away alongside the heart she probably never actually possessed. She had stopped. Then back pedaled to ultimately drop down to where he might have wondered if she got any dirt in her nose when she collapsed. Flicking away the spell from fingers. Dismissing the ethereal image as the sight of fire gleamed just as the background.
Dully looking at it. To her and huffing. “I’ve seen tempests with less of a blowhard attitude than this one.” Rolling eyes effectively. Contemplating just the sort of actions that might be necessary for right now.
There were a few options. One in particular he was prompt to deciding. Figuratively motioning the tearing of papers. Feeling the sharp severing of contract by his own decree and a sort of weighted heft to cluster on shoulders. A drain of skill. Of weight and effort. Demolishing a contract took half of his strength immediately. Becoming fatigued with ease and a low snarl from his breath.
It was no skin off his ass that this living embodiment of a demon turd couldn’t seem to get through her head what was acceptable and what wasn’t. But if she was so determined to do things the hard way. So be it.
He got what he wanted. A release from being kept as his smallest form. And temporary entertainment. Although it was not the way he had envisioned.
“Feckin’ igit. All that gull and not a brain cell left to use it wisely.” He shook his head. Like it mattered. Once more laying gaze to the fire that burned. Watching it a long muted moment.
He had things to do now. And it was a perfect time to do it.