The fire had burned brightly for a long majority of the night. As expected from a bar soaked with drink and horse dung from the stables attached. By the time the break of light properly sought over the horizon, it was barely a structure of crispy timbers. Smoulder with low crackling of flame licking deep in the foundation of the one proud vessel of warmth and comfort.
Now a grave for both building and innocent life within.
He’d had no real idea of why he bothered sticking around. Just that he did. Just don’t ask questions, he didn’t feel like he could come up with an elaborate enough lie to convince even himself of his stupidity.
Having left Calia exactly where she laid –she wasn’t getting that sort of generous offering of being able to be drug away to somewhere better- he did find one of the beasts of burdens that had been set free the night prior. A dedicate beast that had returned at some point in vain search of former owner, but now was relegated to selected equine of choice. Either she was a dumb beast that didn’t realize her own danger or she simply didn’t care, claws scratched at her fuzzy warm nose. “Is a good miss, eh?” Arc purred softly favouring the lovely creature.
“Why don’t yah go and take a shit on that patch of dirt hmm? Sure she be appreciatin’ the generosity of fresh dung for her shitty attitude.” Bemused by his own wit, Arc giggled at himself.
Calia could hear his stupid voice before any other sort of awareness kicked in. Thinking to herself that it was an apt hell to be in. Trapped for all eternity with the most obnoxious thing she had ever met. The smell of smoke and burning embers remained strong, along with fresh earth and old dung. Her brow furrowed while her eyes were still closed for the sounds of hell also seemed to include morning birds and chirping cicadas.
Fuck.
So she was still in the land of the living after all. Forcing her to take stock of the situation once again with a bitter sense of deja vu. At least there still wasn’t the screams of people. Just the burning aftermath of her own stupid choices. Again. Again and again and again.
The pain in her chest was long gone and with a curious test of her wiggling fingers, the princess found that her heart and magic were not the only things missing. That demon hadn’t just cut her off from his magic, he full on completely cut the cord. No mental spellbook of bound magic, no surging inner strength. The contract had been broken and she should’ve felt relief.
Somehow Calia felt even more faded than before. Truly now she was nothing more than a specter trapped inside a prison of skin.
The princess rolled onto her back and finally opened her eyes to stare up at the canopy of green, looking past the branches to clear blue sky far beyond. What was she to do now? A kingdom in ruin – her fault. A burned down tavern – also her fault. Every choice she made became a curse on this land and every person she met. So then… she should quit? Walk into a ravine? Lay here until someone returns and kills the witch princess before she murders someone else, by association or not? None of that felt right.
Calia wanted to live. Not like this, though. Something had to change.
Fuck if she knew what though.
With a heavy sigh, she sat up and pushed herself back up to her feet. No longer with a demon’s strength to help counter balance that awful ache she had in muscle in bone. Calia dusted herself off with nary a word, only doing a double take when she spotted the demon there patting a docile mare as naturally her missing heart skipped a beat with that assumption that he was just as likely to snap the poor thing’s neck simply for the fun of it.
If she demanded he give her that horse, he was also likely to be an absolute shit about it. Thus he received nothing more than a narrowing of her eyes and a dirty look as she shifted to retrieve her sword and dagger. He’d broken the contract, so as far as Calia was concerned he could fuck right off and go terrorize the entire countryside. What could she do about it anyway!
It was the understated movement that he picked up firstly. Straying ring of sliced violet towards the eventual rolling over body that was the mad woman. Giving it all about the same sort of consideration that one might to fluttering paper on the street. Curious enough to look but not interesting enough to go toddling after it.
Honestly, a part of him was surprised she was managing to get up at all. He had no real idea of what sort of magic consequences had been pressed upon her or the results of how it felt, but it clearly wasn’t a pleasant ride. To demand a sudden need to go night-night, it clearly had some aggressive repercussions. It actually made him a little more possessive over his own skills. Mentally grateful that he had severed that of the contract because something in his head suggested that Calia may be too much for a devil of his rank to forever hold under thumb.
She was far too undomesticated to be given the means of such different abilities. He had gotten the better end of the bargain thus far. Freedom to be as he wanted. Understanding that the price he could have paid eventually would have been steep enough to send him back to hell. Which he didn’t want currently.
Lightly petting the long gentle face of the chestnut mare, he was obviously watching her. Making no hasty moves to leap like a hungry fiend out of the earth at her, but not turning tail like some frightened goblin either. Just watching.
Being on the receiving end of another dirty look. Inviting that invisible fishhook to pull eyebrow up in reply.
She really was a frightful little miserable twat, wasn’t she. Clearly it was spite and piss that kept her hollow self going.
And he, was still a pest. “If yah have enough energy to be tossin’ puckered cat ass scowls, yah have enough energy to still go stormin’ after death, aye?” He flippantly asked lending doting attention to the fair beast. Patting her neck gingerly, he was contemplating something. “I don’t know if piss and vinegar will keep yah alive long enough to be someone’s thorn, however.”
“So I do, aye,” she answered with that mimic of his accent again. Calia should’ve ignored him altogether – there was no point anymore in interacting with him. But ignoring things until she snapped seemed to be a folly of hers, so it was time for a different approach and see how long it lasted.
“Don’t imagine it matters much to you now, does it?” she continued. “Now that you’ve gotten what you wanted, shouldn’t you be off running for the next easy pickings?”
Ladies to woo, people to murder. Surely he had better things to do. Calia herself was still considering his commentary, though. Yesterday she’d been fueled by anger and rage, and boy did it keep her going. Latching onto a demon in desperation and finding out real quick that even with magic at her disposal, things were a lot more complicated than just stalking after the man like some sort of zombified murder machine.
Willpower could get her far, but she had to be smarter than that, didn’t she? If Calia wanted to live, then she needed to be smarter.
Leaving the woman sliding her sword and dagger back into place and glancing at the now abandoned rest stop. Off towards the road that would take her north, following the tug of her heart and the asshole that stole it. Then back towards the way they’d came, to go back through the capitol village and off towards the cliffside where this mess had started. Turning her attention down to her hand where the mark of Archimedes was now gone thanks to the broken contract, to then place her hand over the spot where she knew another mark lay under the leather cuffs and the sleeve of her shirt.
Calia could reach out and snatch her magic back – but she could not keep it. Because of her stolen heart? Or because of something else?
Only giving the demon a fleeting look and that poor horse that was likely to become his dinner a sympathetic twist of her mouth, she turned back towards the east where she could return to the cave lair. Deciding if she were to make better decisions, that required information instead of blindly flailing towards her doom.
Chuckling at her means of imitating his accent, she seemed to be a mite bit docile by comparison. Likely still shaking off the effects of waking up face down in the dirt. He dare may call that karma for her frenzy sort of respond the night prior. With no more than a shell of an inn to be her last homage to the crazy she possessed.
Save that she was asking him if he shouldn’t be off finding the next easy pickings. Earning a slow blink. A smirk and a heft up to mount himself effectively on the bare back of the mare. She moved a couple paces while adjusting to the change in weight. Holding fingers through the dark locks closest to withers, using knees and heels alike to squeeze and indicate which way the mare was going to need to follow his instruction. “It may not matter to me now, but curiosity is a terrible thin’ to have, Calia. After yer deranged stunt and,” he motioned to the inn, “Results, colour me properly wonderin’ what sort of batshit crazy yah guna display next. I am a sucker for the unknown. And thus far, yah carry around the means of destruction far better than myself simply wanderin’.”
Arc shrugged, “I’ll get bored of yah eventually.”
“Fantastic,” came her deadpan reply. He was just going to follow her around then? Calia ought not be so surprise, a demon did as it does, so he said and so perfectly exampled for her. As far as she was concerned, that poor horse was a hostage too. Liable to be used in a variety of ways to see what strings of her emotions he could tug and pull on now. He still sought entertainment and her own dumbassery seemed just the fix.
How does one go from witch princess to something so utterly boring and demon cannot stand to be around you? Perhaps she ought to find a temple and sell herself to one of the gods!
She did cast a look over her shoulder at him just in time to see him motioning towards the burned Inn. Causing that grimace of regret and all too familiar guilt. The worst of it was this was not the first time she’d burned a whole tavern down, though the circumstances then were quite different.
Did it really matter, though? Calia was so wily about magic for a reason. It was dangerous. Even when you had the best of intentions. Dangerous and beautiful and… none of these thoughts were helping her at all. Always a contradictory mix of extremes that she used to have under control.
“Curiosity kills, you know,” she added on, resuming in her chosen direction. If she were lucky he’d do something dumb of his own and fuck himself, as he was apt to say. Calia sure as hell wasn’t going to try and kill him again! It might’ve taken three times, but she’d learned the lesson. Maybe.
“Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.” He remarked encouraging the pretty mare to tally up just behind that of the girl. “But satisfaction brought it back.” Offering his insight to the suggestion that of course curiosity could kill. Alas, he would just be sent back to where he came from. And have to make the trek all over again to find an opened portal to return. If he felt so inclined to do so.
Although all in thought felt like entirely too much work. So he would just have to be vigilant about not getting sent back like some ill behaved child sent to a timeout.
Which also meant keeping a good eye on the wicked princess of emotional state of broiling hot magma. Liable to erupt whenever. Where ever.
Taking a moment to study her and, “Come on yah fussy hen, only one of us really needs the nag and it ain’t me. So stuff yer stubborn attitude to wherever yah shoved the rest of yer emotions and get aboard.” Arc motioned, “Unless yer afraid of pretty horses and want blisters the size of a ball on yer feet after yer done draggin’ yerself along.” He shifted back to sit nearly on the rump of the mare. Gesturing to the opened spot and opened his hands, “I ain’t guna stay on the pretty dam, yah can take over.”
Calia heaved a heavy sigh, running a dozen different scenarios in her head now trying to avoid going with her instinctual response of saying Fuck you and throwing up the middle finger. The trouble was that in every scenario this demon was going to switch it up on her. He lied. He was a charming, pretty liar that didn’t have a heart, or a soul, or any sort of feelings of his own besides boredom and horny. Which meant the very second she made the wrong move or even dared to throw his own sass and attitude back at him, he’d flip the switch and go from oh-so-helpful to murderously spiteful.
If her instinct was to fight him then… the opposite would be better. Docile, demure, pliable and sweet. Boring!
Impossible.
While Calia did manage to pause her walking to turning around and greet the mare with a gentle pat to her muzzle and a soft bunting of head to head, there was no sweetness in the look she gave the demon. In fact, it was taking every fiber of her being not to shoot back some sort of scathing comment and a demand for him to get out of the way. Instead taking the mare by her mane and with a surprising amount of elegance pulled herself up to sit on bare back. Finding that while it wasn’t easy tempering her reactions to the demon, there was still something wonderfully soothing about a beautiful horse and it still felt as natural as ever.
“Alright love, lets go for a nice ride then,” she told the horse with a gentle pat to the neck. Not the asshole demon.
When she looked at him, he offered her back a soft fanged smile. Sweet, lovely and so full of nonsense that he didn’t believe she’d buy it for a second. But there was truth to his commentary. He didn’t need the horse. Nor was he about to make it lunch or torture it for fun.
Surprisingly enough, he didn’t find humour or delight in harming animals. They were just living their lives as they were with the level of sentience that suited their livelihood. They weren’t humans. Humans were intelligent and stupid bastards all wrapped up in themselves. So they provided value in amusement. Animals did not.
However, he wasn’t going to say that.
Instead just watching as Calia seemed to respond without offering him a stare the colour of shit. Instead she stepped over making herself well acquainted with the chestnut mare and he effectively flipped back to that of the small beetle like beast. Flitting forward to nest himself between the mare’s ears. Avoiding getting swatted by both Calia and tail of the beast because well, he was still something that crawled.
Admittedly, he was still fatigued from cutting the contract so suddenly. But he had turned his body that eyes were watching the lady, in case she decidedly wanted to see what happened when she moved so quickly. Would she startle the horse or would she fall off because he suddenly when zipping out of reach if he was lucky. “Yah should figure out a way to get yerself supplies.” Arc muttered as if he was trying to play some cheap chance at being the one who was thinking ahead. Not that he cared, he didn’t. But a dead human wasn’t nearly as fun as an alive one.
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you~! Calia sang to herself in her own head, as she had to find some way to keep her feelings to herself. The few vicious feelings that weren’t trapped down under a veneer twenty layers thick. Surprisingly, having the animal provided some sort of balm or buffer to her fragile mental state. Guiding the horse with a gentle practiced ease into a steady trot and feeling far more comfortable with it than any human. Maybe because animals didn’t judge you for your shortcomings, lie to you face and then turn on you the second you weren’t what they wanted.
In fact the more they trotted off to the ruined capitol the more relaxed Calia became, making it all the easily to fall into that mask of pleasantries. For the lovely horse’s sake, the princess would not do anything that frightened the beasts or earned unfair torture aimed her way.
“We’ll go through the village,” she answered after a few moments. “Not everything will be destroyed.”
There was an uncomfortable twist in her stomach at the idea, but refusing advice out of spite wasn’t going to help her any. At the very least she needed to hunt down a proper bridle and saddle if she were to keep this horse. A travel bag so she could keep feed for the horse. A good bristle brush and a hoof pick in case the terrain did a number on her hooves….
Now if this demonic asshole would stop just sitting there and staring at her with his little buggy beetle eyes.
“…Where is the sense in killing an innocent person?” she found herself asking, with a cruel sort of curiosity. Unable to resist going back to that moment, because it kept playing over and over in the back of her mind. “There’s plenty of good reasons to kill someone and plenty of people who deserve it. So where is the sense in killing someone who did nothing. For nothing?”
Village? Well if she was smart, she’d collect herself a myriad of items that would serve to keep her fleshy mortal body sustained enough that maybe she might make a nice little head piece for Derrick. If she got there. Otherwise she’d just be a snack for whatever demon decided to play duck, duck, goose with her in the future. Lightly he hummed at the suggestion that the place of interest wouldn’t be destroyed.
Or she was assuming so. There was no telling what sort of wild overgrown monkeys decided to pillage and destroy in the midst of hell fire on earth. But if she was content with the choice, then so be it. At least it was a decision for once.
With the heat of the horses head comfortably keeping belly warm, he was content to potentially doze. If it weren’t for the sudden oddity of question that burbled from her lips. Asking a wonderment that was for all intents and purposes, nothing important to him. But it was clearly important to her.
“Yah can’t tell but I’m raisin’ a eyebrow at yah.” Arc offered her an idea of what he was doing because her curiosity was probably some nonsensical desire to learn something deep or prophetic. “Yah may not like what I am about to say but it be no less than the facts of it all.” Body shuffled and seemed to make himself plenty comfy.
Rubbing little hands over his face an added moment for, “I. Am. A. Demon.” Saying it slowly just in case either of them had forgotten. “Monster. Murderer. Uncultured bastard. Villain. Whatever yah wanna call it, it be the truth. So what yah say was for nothin’, ended up to me bein’ perfectly cruel, malicious and wonderfully dark. Entertainin’.” Head tilted, antenna wiggling. “Yah say yer a bad person, but Calia… yah be human. Good and bad still apply to yah. Morals. I, lack those. Who ever heard of a demon havin’ such thin’s?”
It was pretty black and white then and there. “I may not be the worst, but I think yah got a good look that I ain’t good either.” The little bastard squirmed though, “It was a waste however… she was a pretty little thing— Alas, it is what it is. My hands are dipped in red and that’s just be how it is.”
“Hmn. No heart, no soul, no feelings,” she repeated, this time out loud. Putting out there into the world to affirm it once again for herself. Seemed… constrictive. Imagine not even getting to choose the path you walked in life. Calia struggled often with the choices she made and that was when her life was easy. But it was still always her own choice, even when those choices turned out to be stupid.
She’d told Derrick that once. That he could choose to do whatever he wanted. He had an entire world at his fingertips. As it turned out, he’d chosen evil and clearly was good at it!
“There is no wonder that you’re bored,” she did finally mutter under her breath. “Mindless violence, pointless murder. If there is no reason behind it, not love or passion to give it meaning, then it gets humdrum, same old. Hmn!” she hummed again then quickly, holding up a finger with a soft wag and an obvious correction in her features. “Don’t remind me, love and passion are not demon things. You’re living your best demonic life.”
Well she might not realize it but he had two of those three things. Unless she was talking about herself, but then she still had all three. Just one of them was currently in some wannabe evil lord. The second was so bungled around inside her that they might as well been deemed hostage feelings. And the last was just a part of a person that was far more interesting when one died. Because the whole decision of the universe made it a up and down game. Did you go north or south!
But she looked thoughtful and he was tired. Not nearly as witty and flamboyant in splendid malicious glee. Just eyeing her after he gave his general run down of why he did what he did. All coming to the very meat of it being, demon. That was it. Nothing grand. No eureka, just he was a demon. It was what they did. What he did.
Again he was arching an eyebrow at her that she couldn’t see. Laying it on that he was bored because everything he did had no purpose to it. Just that as she suggested there was neither passion or love into these actions, Calia was promptly correcting herself. Wagging a finger around seeming to know where she fumbled. “Yah be makin’ it sound like I need or ought to have such mindless thin’s. Sounds like busy work fit for that of a maid, not a creature that is birthed from flame and blood.” But he was curious, “Riddle me this, dumplin’, what does it matter if I be livin’ my best demonic life as shown? I ain’t nibblin’ upon yah, so shouldn’t yah just be grateful for that.”
“I don’t know,” she answered so candidly, so honestly to his first question that it even gave herself pause to stop and think about it. Not just in terms of him and his demon self, but to her who had now lost everything that made her Calia. She sure as hell hadn’t been born of flame and blood, and she sure didn’t share much in common with her elder brothers or sister who were very much cut from something softer, genuine, and… good. Purely good.
Then there was Calia who never quite fell into one side of the line when it came to good or bad. There were times where something awful had to be done in order to do what was best. There were times where you did something with the best of intentions and it turned out to be the worst possible thing. There were right things and wrong things, and moments those ended upside down. And if she really thought about it further, all of it was pointless when you put it into the grand scheme of the world. The universe. Everyone was trying to live the best life that they could and then they died, one way or another.
Calia had this burning desire to live and she didn’t even know what she was living for. How fucked up was that.
Life is a pointless thing. Death is a blessing for everyone, crooned that persistent whisper wriggling around under her skin.
She didn’t agree, but it was hard to argue with it.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” the princess continued with a soft frown. “Stay in your box and be what you are, it’s none of my business. And stay out of mine. Let me be what I have to be.”
That, caught him off guard. Stunned for a moment because surely he had expected her vim to rise up in a spitting snarl of anything. To curse, to hiss. But to hear her expressed a mere I don’t know. Well, colour him blue and call him fancy shoes; he didn’t know she could be so temporarily befuddled. If not entirely genuine.
It drew a pregnant silence for a long moment after. Nothing more than the steady clip-clops of miss gingerfoot mare they rode upon. Sizing up this former princess with soundless wonder.
That was promptly squashed. Because she was back to the hissing cockroach of a woman. “Aw, well now. Here I thought we might be havin’ a moment. A heart to… well void I suppose.” Arc defaulted back to that of toying commentary. “I wonder what will pickle first from yer personal brine. Yer tongue? Yer mind, or will just the whole of yah erupt into a fountain of sour water because yer a angry little woman that seems to have a private pity me complex.” Figurative lips were smiling, “Yah must have been a thrill at them fancy parties. Bringin’ other’s down with yer hissin’ wit.”
He shuffled and turned half way to face more so an upright ear. Scooting and shifting on the mare’s head till he was a neat looking polished gem. “Mercy.” Arc muttered, “Yer horse. Her name ought to be mercy. Seems like she might be the only pleasant and gentle thin’ around here. Somethin’ yah could use.” Tone of voice had lulled and it was clear to him that it sounded worn, “Don’t think about takin’ a swing at me.” Giving her a fair warning that he might be aware of her, being aware now that he was likely going to sleep. He still had enough senses to give him a warning to something unfavourable, and wasn’t about to be squished by a ogre princess.
He was back to being a little shit again, insulting everything he could take a dig at. As if she didn’t have every right to be angry and bitter, to be mad at the world and him included with it. What did he think she was supposed to do with herself? Flounce away and just start up a new life somewhere? Forget what happened? Or was she supposed to be filled with laughing glee as she skipped and whistled on her hunt for revenge!
Actually, that’s probably exactly it. A demon would for sure skip and whistle off on their way to a murder.
Calia was content to resume ignoring him, since he seemed to be settling down for a late morning nap. Then he decided to throw out a name for the chestnut mare that had her staring at his jeweled body as if he’d suddenly just declared his love for innocence and goodness.
Mercy. MERCY. Something he sure as hell didn’t have within him! The sheer irony! Hypocrisy! The bullshittery!
Deep breath in, deep breath out. Do not murder this goddamned demon, on this poor sweet horse.
“Mercy it is,” she muttered darkly, the tone of her voice saying her thoughts loud enough for her. Reaching out to gently pat the mare’s neck in a soothing motion, more for herself than the trotting animal.
Thus Calia left him alone and continued the ride in a thoughtful silence. Eventually letting herself simmer back down to a state of thoughtless existing, with head empty of thoughts and all of her focus on the world around them. The soft spring breeze carrying the scene of honeysuckle blossoms. The sound of the wheat fields rustling. There should’ve been people out here tending to the farms or traveling along the road.
See how peaceful it is without the living. You never liked them.
That inner voice was getting on her nerves. Purring when she was raging with anger, loud when she was still and quiet. Intrusive guilty thoughts. At least when the abandoned village came into view, it had silenced. Calia straightening up to stretch out her own awareness to keep an eye out around them. Like that ogre yesterday, there could still be some demons lingering and looting. Now she didn’t have a demon’s power to replace her own and that meant she needed to be a lot more careful.
There was utter delight in how annoyed she sounded when she gave back her agreement to the mare’s decided name. Chuckling at how she was expressing through a few short words her utter disdain for it. Well he thought it was fabulous. The irony in it all was so delicious that it could have been a decadent treat.
However, he might have been granting her a version of the very thing when he was settling down to try and recapture some of his vivid attitude with a nap. However long as possible he could get it to linger around without the threat of someone trying to snatch or squish him in palm. Eyeing her again even after he gave his clear statement that she was not to try.
He’d be watching Calia from the corner of eye for a good three or five minutes after before it felt like he could safely let himself accept sleepy comfort. Grateful for it.
There was no clarification to him when or how long the means of slumber attached itself to his being but there was a sharp buzzing in skull that demanded alert. Tugging self out of that comfort with a unseen wink wonk. Raising beetle body to scan the boxes of human homes and stuff with, “Careful.” Arc groggily stated feeling like he might just fall off Mercy’s head with how sleep drunk he felt. “Demon imps are…” Stifling that of a yawn, he gave himself a light shaking. “Are nearby in one of these boxes ya’ll call home.”
And so awakens the sleeping prince, Calia thought with dark humor. Frowning at warning from the now shifting jeweled demon with a wondering on why he even bothered to warn her of dangers at all. Wouldn’t it be more entertaining if it caught her by surprise? Why was she even wasting the energy on trying to understand this duplicitous bastard.
Demon imps tended to be on the smaller side, at least. Though that did have her glancing upwards towards the rooves of the thatched homes with a wary observation, as they also very commonly had wings to take flight with too. Calia was pretty confident she could handle any on the ground, but anything in the sky was going to have a clear advantage.
She did not believe this demon stowaway was going to be any help, either.
Now having at least one life she actually cared about protecting, Calia took them through one of the smaller more secluded roads in the village. Where the buildings were close enough to each other than nothing was going to come falling out of the sky to land on her of the chestnut mare. Once she felt secure enough and found a grouping of townhomes that were likely to have the right sort of supplies, Calia slid off the back of Miss Mercy and guided her gently over to a trough of water. Hoping that she’d stay put long enough for the princess to find proper gear.
“Don’t wander, okay? Stay here for a little bit,” she instructed the horse with all due affection. Stroking sable soft ears and easily ignoring the jeweled bastard.
He could feel them nearby. A sort of lurking presence that at some point had just become a feeling instead of a worry. Pressing on mental mass while he offered Calia an insight that naturally she didn’t seem to vocalize her appreciation. It was enough to earn her a slight glance in the realm of this bitch sort of attitude. Knowing he didn’t have to say a damn thing but here he was, saying something.
Roused out of his slumber.
And not even a thank you. The sheer audacity.
Well if that were the case then he went above and beyond any unspoken duty. Returning to the state of nuzzling in and mindlessly watching the blandness of this empty village wander by at a sauntering pace. Till Calia was slowing that of the mare to a trough of water. Promptly urging him to move less he slide down the dam’s face into the water. Scuttling along till he could safely stay situated between withers and absorb the heat with a greedy little wiggle. Having the pretty equine told not to wander. If he was feeling more spiteful, he might have just encouraged Mercy to go for a wander but currently mild intrigue puckered to see just what was going to happen.
He could tell that the demon imps were a group of some amount of collection. Not a few like one or three, but certain less than ten. Just a clump of existence somewhere. Well she knew they were here. He had been kind enough to say that.
“If yah go for a wander, just take it nice and slow.” Arc muttered to the horse, not about to stop any of that meandering business should it arise.
Calia was liable to start hissing like a feral cat every time she heard his voice, for all the struggle it took not to huff and snarl and shout at his never ending unwanted commentary. Letting him be for now in that efforts to aim her ire towards what was actually going to gain her progress. Not more mistakes and destruction in her wake. Giving the mare a last pat before turning off to stalk along the cobblestoned walks that provided easy passage through village homes and shops.
On stepping out a little into the street she turned towards the hill that led up the cliffside, at the stone castle protruding from the very mountain it was built into. Half crumbled and scorched in many places, though no longer with rising plumes of black smoke. The sun shone with such a bright and cloudless cheer that it didn’t match at all the quiet… emptiness of the abandoned village. Her she stood, the only living human person left in the capitol and somehow it actually felt peaceful.
A queen of nothing. Glorious, empty, nothing.
Queen seemed like a stretch, though. Calia was never meant to be the leader of anything let alone a queen. Any one of her siblings would’ve been better suited, only they were as dead as her parents. Leaving naught but Calia standing there in the road, a ghost of a person in a ghost of a village. Pondering that it could be nice to be alone and never think about anyone or anything ever again. Just live as easily as that chestnut mare without a care in the world.
Except, she did care. Somewhere deep down in the broiling cauldron that was her anger. At least enough to make sure Derrick suffered for what he’d done and to be sure he could not continue.
Turning out of the street back towards the buildings proper, Calia tried to run through a list of travel supplies in her mind, coming up with a whole lot for her lovely Mercy and drawing a bit of a blank on what she would need. While Calia had traveled plenty all through Caeldalmor, there was a bit of a trick to it that had allowed her to spread her wings far without having to actually stay anywhere longer than a single night. Without her magic she was actually going to need THINGS.
A general shop seemed like a good place to start. Cautious entering through the broken doorway into the place that was thoroughly ransacked. Fabrics and items scattered. Unperishable foods and grains in broken jars and ripped sacks. No mortal or demon remains, only the eerie abandonment.
Calia passed by a mirror on the wall that somehow had escape the mayhem and caught at a good look of herself in the broad daylight without that haze of shock. The braided circlet of her hair had come loose in all sorts of wild directions, eyes still as dark as any shaded fir forest. She reached up to try and wipe away the dried blood from under her nose. The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile, wider and wider until it opened up across her whole face into rows of pointed teeth.
The princess jerked and stumbled backwards so quick they she crashed into the shelves on the wall behind her. The feeling of horse hooves thundering in her chest as she heaved to take in any sort of gasping breath. Staring at that mirror to find her own startled face still staring back at herself, eyes wide with genuine fright. In a split second she rushed forward to grab the damned thing off it’s nail and threw it violently to the floor, sending shards of silvered glass sliding across the wooden planks.
Whatever that was, she never ever ever wanted to see it again.
Still heaving, practically hyperventilating at this point, Calia made a much more frenzied search for those necessary supplies. The sooner she left this village, the better!
It was natural that the mare would in fact, wander. Mostly grazing looking for any bits of grass that might be readily pulled from ground in hopes of being unspoiled. Snuffing and meandering with the same general lackadaisical care fit for a casual summer sunny day. However to assume she was entirely unaware of the world would have been incorrect. One just had to see how her ears were swiveling to tell she was ever listening to everything.
Ready to make a hasty dash in her own survival if anything of potential problem decided it wanted to appear.
It wasn’t particularly surprising for him when the sound of bumbling clatter had begun close enough for him to be attentively alert. Living creatures tended to give of aromas that lesser demons like to find. Mercy was not pardoned from that and he doubted Calia would be either. But while these red skinned winged pests weren’t that intelligent –he’d seen sticks smarter than them- they could act least decide what was the lesser threat.
A mare or a human?
The mare would win, though she was likely just as dangerous as Calia. Animals didn’t act on methodical thought after all, they worked on emotion. If they were scared, they’d fight to eventually flee when the chance arose. So to hear the telling sounds of the imps landing on the ground, scratching at the dirt while making noises that naturally had piqued Mercy’s attention upright to prepare herself for wild flight; he was giving the three beasts that had come out a bit of a bored look.
“Piss of yah bloody little sheep humpin’ fucks,” Arc hissed. The noise was enough to stop them with befuddlement. “Go find yerself something else to nibble on, this one is mine.”
Skin stretched taunt upon faces, peered up. Around. Black eyes searching for the voice with the same level of comprehension as burnt toast! “Fuck off.”
They chattered at another. Nonsense sounds that were akin to burbling boiling water, yet again that lack of sense won out. Hip hopping closer to the point that he personally scuttled off and allowed the change of body to settle between mare and beasts. Growling low in throat as they seemed to dully register the interference. The one that could be determined as the leader, squinted at him. Rolling back thin lips to bare yellowed daggers, mrowing in throat. “Bare yer teeth at me, will yah?”
It was easy enough to just snap for some sort of spell but he was still recuperating. So it meant a bit more of a handsy deal.
Stepping over with lack of fear that they might suddenly spawn up in a flutter of wings, only to graciously use booted foot to kick the lead straight in the head. Squawking in stunned horror at the action, it jumped. Squeezing its head between claws and giving wings a panicked flutter. “Fuck off, I said. The mare ain’t on no fuckin’ menu.”
The other two stretch imp fetus irritants, happily hopped on their feet further back. Clicking teeth in vain defiance, before being more than happy to turn and fly off. Leaving their last one to hastily realize he was outnumbered to scream and cry after then. Holding head as he in turn rolled his eyes. “What a waste of fuckin’ time.” Eyes drew over to Mercy as she had naturally put some distance between the commotion. “Come on darlin’, yah oughta be eatin’ things that ain’t potentially covered in demon piss.”
For he first time since this mess began, Calia had a real sense of fear. Seeping down into her bones as this uncomfortably icy grip, making her lungs feel tight and her head dizzy. Somehow despite the obvious dangers of demons, curses, and devastating calamity, it was hallucinating her own twisted features into that of a monster which had her currently reverted back into a state of auto-pilot. Struggling through staggered breathing to keep her wits about her as she gathered up as many things as she could that would be useful in the coming travel.
Preserves that weren’t shattered to pieces. Cheese that had been wrapped and kept well. A feed sack for Mercy and enough grain that wouldn’t be too hefty for Calia to carry. Bristle brush and hoof pick. An extra tunic and some pants, as surely was she was going to end up covered in blood all over again soon enough. By the time she’d left the general shop and was marching down the square to find the Saddlery, she was too wrapped up in her own head to remember keeping an eye out for imps.
A folly for sure as she reached the equestrian center, simply a big stable where one of the locals sold gear and saddlery, and beautifully bred horses. Not keeping that eye out as she searched the leftover mayhem to find a riding quilt that wasn’t ripped and a working sadle and bridle that didn’t have knicks and tears. Something that worked well enough for now was all she needed, easy to replace later if needed. Not one to be picky in this present moment as her need to run, run, run as far away from this village as possible had reared up in an unexpected way.
Calia had managed to gather up a good set into her arms, including some saddlebags that’d make storing gear even easier. Stalking out of the stables back to the road with clear intent until odd skreeks and gribbles finally caught her attention.
“…shit.” she muttered under her breath, her pace slowly to an eventual stop. Shooting a green-eyed stare upwards where a trio of imps had apparently noticed a new prey and currently were making a flying circle like a bunch of uglier vultures. Calia could attempt to ignore them all the way back to finding the waiting mare, but then she’d have to worry about blocking the poor thing from being pursued but the bitey bastards. Better to let them focus on her.
There were only three of them, even without magic they’d be easy to deal with. As long as they landed anyway!
So warily, she set all of her collected gear down. Watching those three up above as she rest her hand on her swords, guessing that they were debating if she were worth the risk just as much as she was pondering the best way to end an imp!
There wasn’t much they could do in total but three were certainly still annoying enough to cause issues. With them having been shooed away by another demon, they likely hadn’t been considering much in the way of finding something else to pull their hungry little attention. So when a person came trotting out amongst the abandoned village, their interest had been piqued.
Forgetting about what had been a chance for a equine delight for that of now a single woman in armor.
Chittering and making sorts of nattering noises that could be interest or caution.
Save where three had been original, there were a few additions now that the original trio had come back to the town. Producing another two from various other buildings. Crawling along the walls with their razor sharp little claws. Adding to the noisy raise in volume. Stretching bloody leather wings to take flight, having more balls to be invasive where the three former had dealt with at least being spooked away.
Their volumes grew to alarm three more from other distant buildings to eventually show themselves perching high upon roof’s. Making a former three turn into a full eight.
Enough to be a problem.
This was fine. This was a real and physical danger than Calia could focus all of her attention on, instead of that cold wriggling sense that something was wrong inside her. Although, when it went from three in the air to five, with a vague awareness that an extra three were scrabbling across the thatched rooves looking to join the pack, the warrior princess turned murder witch grimaced.
Why’d they have to have wings. One could not fight what was in the air! Not without abilities that she made a futile attempt at reaching for, before letting it go in the moment. Calmly walking away from the gear she’d set down on the ground so she wasn’t liable to trip over her own things.
Finding a new position out in the middle of the street where she could pull her dagger as well, flourishing it and steel sword in a prepping motion. Taking her gaze away from those that circled in the sky to suck in a deep calming breath.
Relax. Counting the eight, not through supernatural means but with a level of awareness that was quick. Perhaps not something taught in the usual knightly training, because she wasn’t visually tracking the beasts by keeping a direct eye on them. Ears listened for those skreeks and scrabbles. The flaps of wings and their movements all around. Her mind filing away the location of the sun, and observing the direction of shadow where it cast. In turn being able to watch the shadows of the imps as they circled above and made their attempts to make a sharp dive.
Like an elegant dance, she watched those shadows of forms and spread of winds, knowing by the shape and angle of shadow how close the little shit was dropped until with a swift point, swing and turn she’d caught that first imp right in the wing itself. It landed with a crash on the ground and barely got out an angry protest before a few graceful steps and a swing had it’s head lopped right off. A second one seemed to think if it were quick enough, it’d catch her off guard. But by flaps of wings and that diving shadow, it met a similar fate of chopped off wing and missing head.
Such a far cry different from the recklessness of her actions when she was running on pure burning rage!
A flourish and a flick had Calia returning to her original stance. Ready to take them all down if any more decided to test their fate, hoping they were foolish enough to do so, but expecting that they might have at least a brain cell or two to change their own tactics.
Two dead imps, six to go!
The smell of blood was that of a tang to the air. A fetid foul that spilled from two eager imps that had been promptly dispatched by care. Where they lacked finesse, the woman certainly did not. Where they could be impatience with the wit of a rock, she was prepared. Acting in accordance to her own skills and movements that happily dwindled numbers down by two.
She was correct that they had enough sense to at least observe what happened.
Enough to know when their hides were clearly at risk! Preserving themselves instead of testing a foe that had clearly outmatched them. Making themselves properly slink away to hide amongst the variety of homes unused. Not about to risk their own skin being turned to jelly on the pavement! They weren’t much of a threat and proving that she was far more of a worry than they wanted to tackle!
Away went the sword and dagger after a quick swipe to remove blood and gore. Immediately throwing up her two middle fingers at the fleeing imps with a sudden glee-filled elation. Not relief that she was out of danger. A delighted, vicious thrill of victory.
Her hands fell to her sides as that grin melted off her face to something more akin to unsettled concern. Calia had never an issue with killing things during a hunt or when they deserved it. They did deserve it, but she ought not to suddenly get joy from putting them down, either. That horrible vision of her own face turning into a wide monstrous smile coming to mind again and sending a cold shiver down her spine.
When would it go from things that deserved it to things that did not? That’s the natural progression, wasn’t it? All it would take was her getting real pissed off at the wrong place and the wrong time. Then it was all going to fall apart like the tavern in the woods. Like it had before, when she was young and stupid and thought she knew everything.
There it was again, that twist of prickling fear in her stomach. Prompting the woman to quickly gather up the gear she’d acquired, slinging the satchel over on shoulder, the saddlebags over the other, and carrying that new saddle with blanket and bridle in her arms. Trotting back to find the sweet mare, pale and grim seeming no doubt looking as if she’d seen a ghost had haunted her future grave.
With due care and a bit of diligent surveying to find some suitable greens at least somewhere for the mare, he had contently found himself a place to plop his own ass. Watching Mercy through lidded lounging gaze till the sharp of ears were prickling. Subtly moving, giving horns a raise in gentle pulsing in time with the beating vessel lodged within chest.
Mercy noticed it too as her head rose and ears were upright. Pricked for listening and ready to bolt if the need for safety reared up once more. Only that the woman that arrived looked more like a living saddlebag with how much she had located.
Leaving him to consider her existence and well, looking like she had more on her mind than previously. Or it had been so much that it finally rolled down the rest of her to make her features arrange into something with actually emotion that wasn’t pissed off anger and moody tantrums.
Save, as Calia approached and his attention went from general blasé consideration, he was tilting his focus more upon her. “What did yah touch?” Arc asked suddenly. Felid gaze flitting up and down here as he surprisingly was getting to his feet in a swift motion. Shoulders were squared and he was giving her an eyeful that wasn’t its usual jovial dipshit sort of false gallantry. He was on alert. “Calia… what did yah touch?”
Calia was getting pretty good at ignoring the demon, barely registering that he was there lounging about, for some reason keeping watch over the innocent beast that was casually grazing on fresh spring grass. While her mind was a frenzy of thoughts, most of which involved just jumping on the horse’s back and taking off in a wild gallop to anywhere but here, her outward approach remained relaxed and calm. Not wanting to spook the poor girl while they were still getting to know each other.
Setting down the saddle and quilt first, then unloading her satchel and saddlebags from her shoulders to give them a testing roll after unburdening herself from the weight.
“What are you on about now,” she asked, without any real care or curiosity. Likely he was going to have a good fuss at her over something stupid. Smelled the blood of the imps, or would harp on whatever item she’d forgotten in her supply run. Perhaps he thought he was entitled to treats seeing as he hadn’t killed and eaten the mare yet.
Calia didn’t bother paying him much mind, setting her focus to the mare named Mercy. Checking her over first just to be sure there wasn’t a chunk of meat missing out of her, nor any other injury that might make riding difficult. Then she was fetching the bridle and reigns to see about getting those situated.
“There were imps, as you said. They did not give me much trouble,” she did deem to reply.
Hackles were pressed. Spiked and tense as Calia approached that of Mercy with new disregard and yet he was feeling the change in air. So delicate that truly most wouldn’t have ever thought about it. Which was how these things worked. They got in so undetected that it only made itself known after it had successfully laid itself dormant within that of body. All it took was a touch to whatever bloody inanimate object they had been laying in wait.
Akin to what one might call trap door spiders, they were nasty vermin that started out as inconsequential. Just after a while when they had a steady supply of blood and whatever else from the host they latched onto, they’d reveal themselves in a new form.
Large blood parasites that would be a problem when they made the host that of their living vessel. Taking life force and body that was forced to walk around even in death.
He shouldn’t be too shocked, they were parasites. They did what they had to survive and were far better about remaining still till someone found them. Stepped on them. Touched them.
Yet here she was being that of her usual snotty self and well… he was no more than a growling prickly entity that knew there was now another demon present that she didn’t. And she was giving him attitude. But of course she was.
Shaking his head, Arc threw his hands up. Offering her a general displeased glare but was pointedly taking a few steps away from her. “They wouldn’t. But yer new little friend that yah got, will.” Arc rolled his eyes, “But yah won’t listen anyways, so yah enjoy that. This is more than enough of a cue for me to leave yah to rot.”
Fully prepared to brush off whatever bullshit he tried to throw at her again, he wasn’t behaving, well, like himself. That obnoxious know-it-all asshole that had deemed himself her unwanted companion sounded actually concerned. More surprisingly yet he was backing away from her in a sort of wary motion that he sure hadn’t given her when she was boiling over with a need to murder him!
Fear, fear, fear gripped in tight. There really was something wrong with her. So wrong that even this demon wanted no part of it.
Strike now. There is no contract, he is weak and afraid.
But so was she.
“What new friend?” she asked, not sure why she bothered because Calia already had a feeling that she might know. Cinching the bridle on the mare in a slow, careful motion even while she could feel even more of the color drain from her features. She did NOT want to hear these answers – all the more reason to push past her usual reaction and instinct to actually listen. Just this once.
“I’m listening, Archimedes. What have I done now?”
He wasn’t about to get involved with something like that. Having seen before what they did to those in which they latched onto, it was not worth the effort of trying to figure it all out. They were nasty little burrowing demons. It was never clear if they were of a higher or lower rank at all. It all depended on the little unknown host they got themselves. Sometimes they could be highly dangerous because they found some crazed rippling muscled hewn barbarian with a holy axe and would chomp through other demons with wild abandon. Or they’d get a child. Weak and young.
With Calia, it was a tossup. She didn’t have magic but considering how crazy she could be all by herself, he didn’t think it would be beneficial to have the feral princess being a husk to the parasite demon. He could only imagine the sort of nonsense that would come from her and he wasn’t about to risk getting an arm chopped off at minimal. Plus she had this great habit of not listening anyways so it was no skin off his ass.
Ever so easily he kept a notable distance from her. Wondering idly if the poor mare was going to be also a victim but decided that he wasn’t guna waste his breath further.
He actually felt bad for the horse! But again, he didn’t find animals worth murdering and such.
He could follow after the demon hoard or just get the hell out of this valley mountain place, or whatever the fuck it was again. Save that ears lifted as he was looking at her through the corner of eye then. Eyeing her notably with suspicion. Lingering there. Thinking by the way features were lightly moving to show contemplative effort. And took another broad step back indicating he was more than happy to bail. “Yah got yerself a parasite demon attached to yah.” He made a gesture of hands picking something up, “There was something in that village that was awaiting someone to pick it up like a disease.” The shitty part was, he might sense it but he couldn’t actually see where it was on her. Likely burrowed into flesh somewhere like a fucking tick. “They be nasty things. Eventually it’ll kill yah, take yer body as its own. Making yah no more than a fungal zombie.”
Arc sneered a little, “Even I want no part of that.”
Shit didn’t seem like a bad enough curse word for this one!
Of course, of course somehow she had picked up a new demon passenger. Honestly, Calia wouldn’t be surprised at this point if she were somehow host to many of the fuckers. Why not, because she was truly cursed in every possible way one could be. Leaving her grunting out a strangled sound to at least show that she understood and was in fact taking this seriously.
The trouble was that she couldn’t pinpoint just one moment where she could have become an unwitting host, because there were so many goddamned things wrong with her now that there was no way to sift through to know the exact moment. In the cave with Derrick? There was a dozen spells going off there while she was conscious and certainly even more while she was knocked out. The mark on her wrist, much larger than the one Archimedes had left was a clear hint that she was either bound to a spell or some other demon.
Her in and out trek back to the castle, where everything was just short flashes of torn memories could have picked up any number of things. There was no telling what spells or weapons she’d been struck by. What demons she tussled with before she’d finally dropped and lost unconsciousness altogether.
That vicious little voice that said all of her darkest unwanted thoughts sure as hell was something too.
And here in the village… well. There was an idea.
“…would you have not sensed something within me before? With the contract?” she croaked out the question, not liking at all that this was when her guise of stoic melancholy was being broken now in this way. “It– I need to narrow it down.”
Fuck. Fuck, shit, ass, fuck.
Just in case, Calia moved back to her acquired items and did a quick search to be sure nothing in there was an innocent seeming bundle of pure evil.
“I don’t know. Ain’t ever had somethin’ like this occur.” He offered her surprisingly honest about how he might not have sensed it during the single day of a contract. But, “I also hadn’t felt it till yer return.” Naturally he looked towards the way she had come. “So if I were to go off that, I’d say it’s a recent unwelcomed guest.”
The demon hummed. Stroking chin softly, “These parasite demons be lookin’ typically like everyday objects. But depending what it is, it can act strangely. Books crawlin’ across a floor. Spoon’s floatin’ in thin air. Stuff like that. Not always but it can.” Arc dropped hands away to scratch at the back of his neck. “Also with the contract, yer a bloody mess already. A fair player to become chaos incarnate, so even if it were with yah before and it’s just decided now that it wants to taunt and play about, then it could have come from before.”
He looked at her again, “Yah fought the imps? It might be provoked by the demon blood. Can’t say I be knowin’ a lot. I stay clear of then pesky bastards.”
This was NOT going to be the one that took Calia down. So even with her shaking hands and the horrifying knowledge that something actually was in her, the princess made quick work of examining what she’d brought along. Just as quickly deducing that she already had the most likely idea of recent suspicious objects, for that goddamned mirror had surprised and terrified her in the moment. Had preyed on a fear she already had locked inside of her, and well… Calia tended to act on impulse instead of thinking before she acted.
Mirrors. Why did it always have to be mirrors.
When she stood it was simply to saddle up Mercy with the fresh quilt and the accompanying saddle. Bending and stepping around as she cinched belts and made quick work of being sure everything was well secure. Saddlebags went where they belonged. The new travel satchel also tucked away because she wasn’t sure what she was about to do, only that she might need her hands.
It took several long moments of going through familiar, comforting motions before she was able to settle down that grip of fear. Dusting off her hands with no real reason other than needing a fidgeting motion to help her think. Turning to the demon with that same grim expression, but none of the disdain and dismissal she usually had for him.
“A mirror gave me a ghastly sight and I smashed it back there,” she told him, holding her hand low as a gesture of pause to show that she already knew it was a stupid action and she didn’t need his commentary. “If that was the item and I have this thing in me, how do I get it out?”
Both of her hands motioned then, a grabbing clawing like motion towards her chest, suggesting that she might’ve tried to just grasp it that way had she the means and then cast it into oblivion with those very same hands. With how stubborn and cocky she was about her magic, it was entirely possible that she could’ve done it! Only now, she was nothing more than a sack of meat and bones.
Whatever she was thinking, he was just keeping a nice distance from her. Explaining what he knew, admitting what he didn’t. Finding that it almost cruelly comical that out of all the demons she had to find, it was a parasitic one. Obviously other demons tended to avoid them. Not that he could be riddled with them as similar blood but they were just more of a pest. A pain. Cause if they had a good enough host, then they would attack another demon. Hack and slash and eat.
Which he was not on the menu!
So when she finally stopped putting the tack and saddling Mercy up, he was watching her with all do guarded care. If not a bit of surprise because she mentioned no sooner that apparently she had a mirror within the village that had decided to give her a spook. Enough to break it and he was looking upwards to the sky like it was about to give him a a-ha reveal. Instead it seemed her statement and the placating motion was enough to have him not giving her an earful. Fairly, this was one of those things that unless you knew what to look for, how the hell would you have known?
Just that she was grabbing at her chest like the action would expel this unwanted addition. And him shrugging, “Typical stuff. Cold will sometimes flush it out. Binding yah in a salt circle. Holy water. A righteous priest for them sword wielding holy folk called paladins.” He gave her a look that was deadpan serious, “Sometimes trying to kill yerself will work cause they don’t wanna be part of a already dead host. But that’s a risk cause some are as stubborn as they come. Or yah find the spot on yer body that has a noticeable odd lump and cut it open. Exposing the little pest. But that can be hard since they might burrow where yah can’t reach or see.”
Arc motioned, “Bathing in holy water would be the better bet.”
Fuck. FUCK. She could say the world a thousand times and it would not be enough to express just how massively fucked she was! Calia glanced down at her hands, searching for some sign of entrance only to find nothing.
Cold would have been so easy with her magic. Blissfully easy. A salt circle sounded promising, but honestly felt more like it would bind her within the circle with the little fucker that was inside her. Holy water then was the best option, and yet… paladins and holy folk weren’t exactly common in Caeldalmor. At least not the sorts that handled demons and blessings. She may be better off finding a sacred place and praying that she got there in time. If Calia could not control herself when it was simply Calia’s own mind working against her, then how was she supposed to fight against a demon making those emotions a thousand times worse.
“…and you are certain that trying to kill me is not the better option?” she asked with all seriousness. Actual, genuine seriousness. As much as Calia wanted to live, she was just as willing to go to wild extremes to escape an end that she felt was so much worse than death. To be a puppet for someone else was quite honestly the worst horror she could think of in that moment, which was pretty terrible thinking considering she’d witnessed the murder of all she knew.
She really did deserve all of this, didn’t she.
Letting out a long, slow sigh, she turned away to grab onto the saddle and pull herself up onto Mercy. Calia was going to cursed this ironic name for the horse until her final days. Which might be soon, from the sounds of it.
“I appreciate the honesty,” she admitted, grim in expression, though not defeated in spirit. Hating herself in a thousand different ways, but no where near yet done with this world. “Unless you’d like to have a free chance of getting to strangle me, the little shit that’s made itself at home is just going to have to wait it’s turn, I suppose. I might find something useful in Derrick’s lair of fuckery if I am lucky.”
She wasn’t, but it was worth the try.
Once more the look was extended at her, “Yah wanna live, don’t yah?” In reply to her query to whether or not the idea of faking out the means of death was truly a terrible option. It was, it had no promise of success. Who knew how stubborn the thing was! Let alone if it was capable of listening. He just knew they were nasty things and there was no want in his books to be involved with it.
Folding hands behind his head as she straddled up the stirrup to swing herself up and into the seat of the saddle. And colour him shocked when she admitted appreciation. Damn, she really was fucked up, wasn’t she.
“Eh, no? If I wanted to do that, I’d done it already.” Not to say it hadn’t crossed his mind but there was more entertainment value on her staying alive in those stints. But now, that the option was there, it just sounded so blah. Not up his alley.
“Who’s to say their ain’t more waiting there?” Arc asked arching a brow at her, “Don’t yah all them priest like people about here with churches and steeples and hallowed ground?”
The smile Calia shot him on his question if she wanted to live, might’ve been the first time she’d actually cast such a genuine and mischievous look in his direction that wasn’t riddle with smugness or feral spite. Just a softly deprecating self awareness that she did indeed want to live, even if she tended to act with reckless abandon when it concerned her own self.
It was gone in an instant, as most of her fleeting expressions were. Back to that stoic and bland resting face as she shrugged her shoulders to his question.
“Paladins and their temples are not a common thing. Not in Caeldalmor, anyway. Most here follow the old ways and worship old gods, if they bother with such things at all. I… have an idea of a sacred place that might be enough, but it is a good way from here. As you said before, there is wisdom in investigating how this started and the cave is not far. If there is someone waiting there, then I suspect they’re not going to want to deal with a parasite infected witch any more than you do.”
And if she nearly died, that would actually be useful for her this time!
“Goodbye Arc,” she practically sang, guiding Miss Mercy gently with the reigns and a nudge of her heels before giving him that falsely cheerful wave. Fully expecting with his unease that finally his amusement with her had come to a close, just for the sake of protecting his own skin.
This place was so backwater that he was practically hearing whistling jugs and three string instruments playing somewhere in the background as a three wheeled wagon hopped along with yokel’s singing out of tune.
Old gods. Closed off from the world. Private and reclusive.
No wonder the boy turned sorcerer started his invasion here! No one was going to be able to do shit about it and this daffy woman that had been spitting and hissing like a wet cat had the stupid gull to smile at him authentically when he asked her if she wanted to live.
God she was a sick woman. Sick in the head! And about to be a shambling mushroom brain because the parasitic demon that had made itself comfy enough to let its aura ooze out, was present. Ears flattened and he was set to glaring at her in a way that wasn’t hostile, just perturbed. Like she had started sprouting verses of old religion in hopes that he would be shooed away.
Sure he had been alive for the devil only knew how long and he sure as hell couldn’t remember anything beyond that when he might have been mortal as well, but damn if he wasn’t thinking about Calia being the most deluded wingnut he had ever seen! Saying goodbye with even adopting his preferred shortened name and he was left watching her stupid idiot dunderhead self go trotting along on the horse.
“Mercy seas and wenches underbritches…” cursing as he could, no one had better ask him what the fuck he was doing. Because they were guna get a punch in the beak if they did!
Promptly shifting back to the beetle form, he hurried to get himself on her stinky aura ebbing self. Landing on her head again, “Shut up.” He grumbled, “This fuckin’ place better have at least somethin’ useful, otherwise… yer guna have to let me get close enough to give yah a bit of a freezin’ once I have my magic back. But that’s all I’m doin’ yah zesty crotch gremlin.”
Color her surprised when he landed on her head, prompting her to tilt head back stupidly in an attempt to glance at him. Almost wanting to laugh at the thought he now seemed compelled to follow someone who was surely going to be doomed and bring it upon him as well if he stuck around. At least she had a dozen good excuses on why her brain was so rotted out she made deals with demons and acted a fool. Maybe he had a fascination with watching a runaway carriage careen wildly to it’s death. Knowing something was terrible but being unable to resist watching the spectacle.
Well, he was a demon, she reminded herself. Demons fed off calamity and chaos. The gods and demons both knew that Calia was the very avatar of chaos now.
…curious that the little voice in her empty self had been correct though. He was weakened now. Because he’d broken the contract? Very curious.
“The cold doesn’t bother me,” she answered, almost even sounded cheery about it. “But if you’re going to tag along, we ought to establish some… better boundaries. Unless you want to find out which of my buttons turns me into a demon eating harpy.”
The suggestion certainly wasn’t for his own safety. Calia still hated him with every fiber of her being, if she went all murder brain and killed him while he couldn’t defend himself, would serve him right. Truthfully, she didn’t want to find out what it was like being a meatsuit for a demon and if his concern for his own well being meant they could find some sort of middle ground not to harass each other, they’d be better for it.
“I don’t like being lied to,” she admitted there. “If you want to be an asshole, be one, but don’t have rules and then punish someone else for what I’ve done. All killing that woman did was ruin things for both of us.”
Holding onto that of dark locks so he didn’t go sliding off to bounce off Mercy’s rump to the ground, to hear that she wasn’t bothered by the cold wasn’t something he was gasping about. If she had frosty magic that he seen last night, then it made sense she had a natural resistance to it. Having one half and not the other would have just been a mean fate!
But it seemed Calia to be stepping over something that did make him pause. Thinking and, “Boundaries?” The word was like a foreign language to him. She might as well have been speaking gibberish cause what the hell did boundaries have to do with anything!?
Only that she expressed she didn’t like being lied too. How the night prior had been a push over because she had been cheeky and he sought to exact his own form of inhumanly cruel punishment by killing another. He knew it would have worked because doing anything to her at that point had worked in no favour to him. “I’m not an asshole, I’m impish. Flirtatious and blunt.” Arc suggested like he actually believed that. “And I don’t like when others say they ain’t guna do somethin’ but twist it around that they interfere.” Huddling down on her head he grumbled this information out.
“Just let me play with the fillies the way I wanna. If I use magic or not, don’t get yer panties up yer asscrack. Contrary to what yah might believe, I just wanna play with them, get some jollies off. Ain’t much fun if their dead. It’s a waste.” Anyone else would have gasp in the horror of such open commentary but he was just laying it out flatly.
Just that he was grumbling no sooner, “I don’t think there’s anythin’ yah like anyways, so why is lyin’ that bigga of deal?”
“If you would’ve just left me alo-” Calia cut herself off quick, taking in that deep stilling breath to try and sidestep her anger. Letting it out in a slow, controlled hissed. Realizing with his question that he did not understand how their interactions had combusted in on themselves, as apparently he didn’t seem to connect the dots on how lying wasn’t just a fun thing to do to others, that it could have consequences for himself too!
“Trust is a fragile thing,” she started slowly, for some insane reason actually going to try and create some sort of middle ground between them. Perhaps because she knew this was stupid and never would have made an attempt before at all. Trying something different in an attempt to thwart whatever curse of chaos had befallen her.
“A contract requires a certain level of trust and respect of boundaries. I told you not to harm people that didn’t deserve it. You told me you had no interest in harming the ladies, and then immediately hinted that you might to get me to tag along. What on earth did you think was going to happen? When you poked and prodded at me, showing her off like a hunted trophy?”
Calia sighed heavily, at least this time not full of that intense anger about it anymore. That moment was going to stay with her forever, there was nothing that could be done for it now.
“You didn’t attach yourself to someone meek and docile, Arc. If you taunt and harass me I will give it right back. If you wish to be left to your devices and have your fun, then you’ve got to leave me alone as well.”
It could not be made anymore clear than that! He either could accept it or not. Either way, if they couldn’t get past that one thing, they’d end up killing each other. Unfortunately with him as the victor, she suspected, and Calia had a much more grand way to die that she needed to get to.
“…and I DO like things,” she muttered after a moment. Oddly, though, it was hard to think of what those things were in the moment, even though three days ago she’d been happy and content. All she could think of now was riding horses and that occasional tumble with someone pretty, simply because it was the current topic. Her entire life and soul hadn’t only been about her magic, surely?
She began and he was almost bursting out immediately into laughter at how quickly she was turning her fury back on. Wondering if it was a switch or a pull chord that she just yarded on the moment she needed to be extra spicy. The woman was crazy but she was also like black gunpowder. Ready to explode at everything, anything and potentially something large or small. Nothing was excused and it truly made him wonder just how long before that temper truly got her into deep shit. If it hadn’t already.
But she tempered –probably with a mouth full of blood from how hard she must have bit her tongue. Taking a moment then starting again about how trust was fragile. He may have been dully staring forward with a form of frog like blinking because he wasn’t sure if that was a phrase applicable to her. She didn’t seem to trust anything. Add that to her spicy mix and once again, viola! Gunpowder.
However, he just listened. Because he found that she probably could just piss herself off faster than he could, though he was very good at it.
As she spoke and started pointing out that a contract needed to have both. Trust, boundaries and, “There is no contract further.” Arc stated the obvious in case she was going to start lecturing him on that. Because he ended it as her volatile nature –while absolutely comical- was just dangerous enough that even he didn’t value holding the leash to a storm raging cat that could kill you, itself and everyone around it. Just eventually, “I wasn’t showin’ her off to yah. I was actually tryin’ to make sure yah got some food into yah. Good fuckin’ hell. I know how mortals work, yah gotta eat and drink to be functional. And I don’t think yah can preach trust when yah didn’t and don’t trust me. So, callin’ the kettle all shades of black, ain’t it?” He asked her rather forwardly.
“Yer gettin’ fussed at me like I did it on purpose. I didn’t. Not at the start.” He was liable to pout in stubborn defiance, “But don’t yah worry. I ain’t doin’ nothin’ else after this. Whatever sort of explosive fiery death yah got in yer future because yer temper is set to roast everything in a ten mile radius is all yers.” The beetle scuttled off her head to flutter down to perch itself between Mercy’s withers.
Once more pointed with his buggy stare at her because he was being alert to whatever sort of threat of slapping or squishing she might do.
Walking backwards up the neck of the pretty little dam till he was neatly sorted between ears again. Seemingly liking being up high to see and able to be safe because Calia seemed like she didn’t want to harm the animal remotely. A win for him.
“Yah? What.” Arc seemed to know where to call her bluff about liking anything. Waiting for something and well, she said nothing at least yet. “I’ve met hermits with more hobbies and interests than yah. And that was… eons ago.” It was eons ago… right? He couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered.
This demon was so goddamned stuck up his own ass that he couldn’t seem to connect one action to another, see the context of the bigger picture. Taking in another breath as her hands reached up to press hard into the pressure points at the bridge of her nose, liable to get a headache at this rate with the sheer stupidity. The audacity to shoot the same phrase back at her of kettles and pots! Insisting he was only trying to be helpful – but how was she supposed to believe that when he’d turn around and be a monumental asshole the next second!
One of them needed to bend. To compromise. But like hell did Calia want to be the one to do it. She might’ve been hot-headed and temperamental and pissed off at the world, but she never attacked unless she was provoked first.
“Alright,” she acquiesced in a frustrated huff. There was no sense in arguing or even attempting to help him understand, and honestly she’d be better for it if he would just leave her alone and go away! Let him have his moment of morbid curiosity and when he realized nothing would change, maybe he’d finally get bored enough to actually go. Calia was still stumped that he was continuing to tag along as it was!
While she thought about continuing to ignore him altogether, it was almost comical how uneasy he was around her. Trying to keep her within his buggy vision, so certain she’d jump at him in any moment. Calia wasn’t about to tell him that she wouldn’t, so long as he didn’t make a move first. Let him be suspicious and uneasy. Let him worry and wonder if it was her about to jump him, or the demon laying dormant in her. He could sit on his literal high-horse perch being smug and wary all he wanted.
“I enjoy riding,” she deemed it worth telling him, if only because speaking of things out loud might help her remember exactly who and what she was before it all got lost in the torrent of chaos that resided in her brain. “I enjoy evenings in taverns with bards singing bawdy tales, and charming strangers into frivolous trysts. I like walking trails in the forest and I enjoy a good friendly fight. I like to study things that pique my interest and I suppose I like breaking rules too.”
“You’ve met me at my worst, Arc. At my best I am something extraordinary, if a little… tumultuous. “
Reaching up to curl antenna down so he could make a show of cleaning them while she seemed to give into the moment with no more than a mere alright. Sure, he knew well enough that he was not making this easy. He wasn’t intending too.
What the hell was the purpose of being a creature forged in hell, chaos and blood going to do with trust? Well besides break it. And by no means was he exactly sure either why he kept following her. Without the demonic contract in place, there was no reason too. Even if it was still applied, it meant little. He could go do whatever the frick frack he wanted. Save, they were in this damnable place that was a butthole in a mountain.
Even he knew it was unlikely to be easy to get out of. Even if he could fly, doing so over a mountain range seemed highly problematic. Which meant, well… maybe that was it. He was tagging along because he needed her to show him a way to get the hell out of this place and out into the broader world so he might be able to do whatever the hell he wanted!
Yes, that was clearly the reason.
“Hmm?” She spoke then and said she enjoyed riding. Then expanded that well, “Yer a trollop?!” That, well he was very much surprised and couldn’t believe that this snooty princess of damnation busied herself with bawdy tales and falling into beds of those whom she fancied for a night. The rest of it was promptly ignore because he couldn’t have cared any less about trail walks and fighting.
He snickered and hummed, liable to be narrowing an eye at her. “And yah scoff at me for being a bed frequenter.” Oh how black that kettle was! “A little tumultuous seems like yer tryin’ to lie to yerself. Why do I be gettin’ the sense that yer so full of shit that yer eyes outta be brown? Truthfully, I wouldn’t be surprised if yah were offered a chance to be a demon yerself with a offerin’ with how moody and vicious you are.”
“For the record, it was not you being a slut that I had a problem with. It’s because you were dumb about it and got yourself in trouble with another demon because of it,” she answered, this time actually amused with his yelp of surprise. At least she understood it – the typical princess didn’t exactly go around on tavern crawls. Had her mother not been so insistent on educating her daughters properly, Calia would honestly believe her elder sister didn’t even know what sex was! A princess was meant to be that elegant and demure sort of thing.
Calia could be elegant, but she sure as hell wasn’t demure.
“I did HAVE a level of control before all hell literally broke loose,” she defended, with a slight frown. “Not to say I haven’t made plenty of mistakes. Magic isn’t a common thing in the mountains these days. There was no one to teach me – not anyone I wanted, anyway. I would’ve had to leave home and take up residence with the wizards up north, and wizards aren’t anything more than perverts with wands.”
Even the women were a bunch of weirdos and the lot of them were so invested in exotic spells and debauchery, that Calia could bet had she been forced to go there for a magical education that she truly would have ended up summoning demons at some point. If not for kinky sex orgies with a bunch of white bearded old geezers and saggy titted hags, she would’ve done so to kill them all and escape.
…thoughts like that always had her second-thinking on whether or not her gift of magic was demon sourced. Now she knew different, though, it seemed like it was truly her fate to be surrounded by demons regardless.
“I say a little tumultuous because I was careful. I did not want anyone to know what I could do. Now I suppose it doesn’t matter much. When I get it back I’m going to show that dumbass exactly what magic can do with a deep well of imagination and not a single fuck left to give.”
“Oh coz yer perfect in such thin’s?” Arc asked her because of course she knew from their brief stint of knowledge that she knew why he had been cast into this lesser form. “In all thin’s. Yah never got over confident at all and nothin’ bad ever happened?” Again he was raising brows at her that she couldn’t see. “I’m not a perfect bein’. Quite the opposite and I was over zealous in what I thought I could get away with. The difference is, I acknowledge that. I fucked up, so what?” If that’s truly what had gotten her panties all knotted up in her butt, then holy hell, she really was full of herself.
Turning what was raised brows into a little bug like glare.
So he went after the wrong demoness, so what? He got punished and in turn got out of it now with this daft dodo.
But she then she was suggesting that magic was not common – he was gathering that- while suggesting that those who could have taught her how to control it were likely no more than dirty birdies which, “Have yah actually been there to know whether that’s fact or was it just hearsay?” Was she assuming she knew what the result of those who knew magic would be like or did she actually see such debauched behaviour with her own two eyes. Something told him it was the latter because if her own family didn’t know she had magic, why would she have ever gone to investigate the very place.
“Sounds like yah have trust issues in general. If yah can’t rely on yer own family to have yer back, then what do can yah rely on?” The words were spoken and something in his head fizzled. Suddenly hissing with a pained effort that had him promptly flattening out on Mercy’s head. “Never mind.” Arc promptly grumped. He was very accustom to that sort of pressure that pained in his head when ever there was a potential of broaching old long lost memories.
Rubbing his head with little arms, “Just focus on whatever the hell it is yah be lookin’ for in that wannabe warlock’s hidey hole.”
Calia was not going to ride this blessing of a horse and argue with a demon that loved being offended by everything she said when she wasn’t even trying to be offensive. Not once did she say she herself hadn’t made mistakes – good gods above, the entire kingdom was evidence of that now! Not once did she say she was better than him.
…alright sometimes she thought it, but it wasn’t because he was a slutty man. That was specifically because he was an argumentative little asshole that couldn’t take the heat that he liked to dish. He had absolutely no idea how difficult it was for her not to grab his tiny beetle body and fling him off into the bushes.
So naturally she was rolling her eyes already when he went off on her, assuming that she herself made assumptions. Believing that she hadn’t at some looked into the other magic users in her lands. Assuming that a curious young girl with magic at her fingertips wouldn’t have gone seeking out anyone and anything that might be able to give her answers. Granted, maybe had she left Caeldalmor itself she might’ve found someone suitable, but within the boundaries of her own kingdom, that was not the case.
“My parents were good people but their opinions on magic were not,” she admitted. Only to have brows furrow as she watched the strange little buggy movements he made. Trying to decipher a beetle’s body language was not an easy feat, but there was certainly a little something off there. Maybe he was worse off than he’d care to admit after severing their contract.
Calia let it go, as he wasn’t likely to tell her the truth of it anyway.
It was a lot faster to get to the cliffside when one had a strong healthy horse, only needing to trot away from the village itself to head up one of the rocky hills paths. Not wanting to push Mercy too far on the off chance trouble happened and the horse needed to dash off to safety, Calia kept it at a reasonable pace until the walls of granite, stone and dirt blocked all view. Mountain walls climbing high into the sky so steep that no one sane would ever dare attempt to scale.
There were so many cave openings that it could be risky to dare attempt exploring one. Ancient mines, ancient paths, some just dead ends or even worse, would drop off into a long fall with seemingly no bottom at all. Calia knew where to go, though, as the memory was burned like a wound into her mind. Passing up so many of the dark ominous looking cave entrances until she found the right one. Slipping off Mercy’s back to toss the reigns up over a good sturdy branch. The beast could break free if she had a panic, but otherwise wouldn’t have reason to wader with so much available grass and clover to munch on.
Calia did not bother to ask if the demon was coming along. Truthfully not wanting to encourage his following, even though she wasn’t sure it was wise leaving him alone either. Keeping herself on guard as she approached the cave mouth, just in case there really was someone lurking and waiting inside.
Even if he was annoyed that he had accidentally scraped too close to where that line of memories was fussing never to cross less he wanted to feel what it was like to burn in a vat of acid, her statement about how her parents had been good people with a botched understanding of magic. It was… well it wasn’t what he expected to hear. And found it ass backwards too. Shouldn’t they be some of the people that would have been the ones that wanted to help their child understand what they were capable of so she could control it. Without it being blasted out in a frigid tempest that killed and maimed?
Well suppose he couldn’t guess what sort of nonsense reason it was that they would not think about magic in a light that was neither here nor there.
And if he was wise, he might be able to use that statement alone to perhaps figure out why she was so intent on being a single person. Even he knew humans didn’t function well in solitude. They needed interaction of some degree.
But if you couldn’t trust even those who gave birth to you with such a grand possession of power or ability, then who could you trust.
Wow, did he accidentally figure out why Calia was such an ornery she-beast? Probably not but he didn’t think it was wrong either.
Thankfully he seemed less eager to continue a conversation. Settling after the throbbing stopped because he didn’t push against its warning limitations. Turning his butt to her eventually so he could watch the same scenery that Mercy was. Wondering just how a place like this properly existed so cut off from the rest of the lands. It seemed counterproductive if they wanted to ensure trade and economy overall. But humans always did things in their own way. Stubborn enough to bang their heads against the wall if it meant they might be able to break free to the other side. Even with a slim chance of doing so.
It was those types of stupid desperate that made the best contractee’s. Because they didn’t really think things through.
The rise of mountain walls that were dappled with various little holes in its surface, he was silently curious to what might be within any of them. Idly encouraging a wandering thought that was also did a dragon live in any of them till they were arriving at one hole that apparently was the correct one. Making sure Mercy had plenty of things to eat while being loosely posted. And Calia slipping off without a word. Her back earning a glare in that regard because did she even know what the fuck to look for inside?
He’d already come this far for some damnable reason that was still feeling like he was just trying to learn about how to get out of this place, before he just sort of sighed. Flying up and off the horse to get close enough that he could land on that of back. Scrunching unseen nose at the nasty aura she was still projecting but remained thoughtfully hushed this time. At least for a second before flying off her and attaching to the wall. Scurrying inside to turn and cling onto the roof with curiosity going this way and that.
She’d felt him land on her again, heaving an inward sigh that she was not going to be able to take this look on her own. Entering the cave mouth with a tense silence, keeping herself aware of movement and sounds so she’d avoid any sudden swings of weapon or chomping teeth. Following the narrow passage until the light disappeared behind them and she had to continue under the shroud of darkness. Lit only by a few bits of faintly glowing moss.
Everything about this felt imposing and as if pressure was trying to come down around her from all angles. Unsure if the way her skin crawled was a warning from the parasite within, some demon unknown, or simply her own shredded memories of what happened. None of it truly mattered, though. Calia remained steadfast even when her stomach churned.
Eventually the passage opened up to that wide open cavern, thankfully devoid of anything living inside, but not the mess of destruction she’d have expected to see. There were still torches lit – barely burned down to the embers at this point, but casting just enough light to have the place aglow in awkward shadows. The sigils painted all over the cavern walls didn’t light up and activate with her presence, and why should they now. The magic they were placed there to dampen was no longer within her.
The stain of blood all over the floor made her nauseous again, for two entirely different reasons. One from the sickening memory and the other she suspected was that beast inside twittering with glee over the metallic scent. By the sheer amount of it, Calia doubted it was all her own. He’d have had to bleed her dry and then some to cover the floor with such a stain. And as she walked further within, there was that sickening realization that some was still sticky wet.
Her boots crunched on the shattered mirror glass that was strewn around the cavern. At least she’d managed to destroy one of his cursed collection. Now there was just the entire space more to investigate, as without having the man suddenly attacking her, she could more easily see he’d been living here for quite some time.
Still, Calia pressed a hand to her stomach feeling that wave of dizziness wash over her, annoyed at finding the room dangerously tilting again.
“Calia.” He called at her when it seemed like she was lingering in this glee pit of stink and nonsense. A hole in the wall that was certainly not the sort of hermit’s cove most would make out of it. Stinking of blood and faint after pulses of magic that was properly tangled. “Yer about to walk sideways on the wall if yah don’t get yer feet under control.”
The beetle dropped from the ceiling to flutter around. He could have reverted again but he felt like having two wandering bodies might be a bad idea. Settling for fluttering and looking.
It looked like it was a place that rituals were only starting. A practice arena that had grown too small for what Derrick now had. Needing something bigger. “Yer buachaill really managed to have quite the little cesspool.” Arc buzzed closed to the blood stain but didn’t land. Getting the scent of blood that he knew was Calia’s but the rest was something else. Seemingly human but that wasn’t hard to mask. “How does a little farm lad get to be that of a wannabe warlock, by the way?”
Walking sideways into a wall was exactly what ended up happening – Calia hitting the stone shoulder first before she turned to rest back against and slide all the way down to the floor. All the more reason she wished he would’ve stayed behind with Mercy, as Calia could not tell what part of her cursed self was creating that cold, clammy feeling washing over her. Whether she was on a fast track of being eaten from the inside out, traumatized to the point of an actual physical rebellion, or if something else lingered here to be sure she wouldn’t walk back out.
Regardless, she wished was alone to deal with it however she needed to. Instead she was having to grasp onto some sense of awareness by knocking her head gently against the stone cavern wall as she peered around the mess left behind.
“He used to explore the caves,” she revealed, raising hand to press heel of palm against her forehead before dropping it again to survey. “Years ago he was so excited to show me the things that he’d found. Coincidentally a mirror then too.” The remains of that she gestured to, the huge black frame now devoid of any glass inside. A finger pointed to where the shards all laid scattered.
“And a book. It practically oozed ill intent before he’d even opened it, but he’d recited a spell before I could stop him and summoned a fiery little beast he couldn’t control. My first mistake was then, snuffing it out and revealing I had my own magic.”
Thinking back, Calia should’ve just let the cabin burn with them both inside it. She would’ve walked out of there just fine and Derrick would’ve been dead and never had a chance to unleash any horrors at all.
He apparently spoke too late or she was just channeling her big fuck you energy to assure she did exactly what he was warning about. Colliding with the stony presence to slide down it. Warranting him to turn fully and well, come down from his hovering exploration.
She was clearly unwell. To a point that he couldn’t say what might be affecting her. Fairly this place just sort of radiated hellish familiarity that it blotted out to him any potential threats. It was just missing a few open cracks of lava pools and someone screaming in the distance for mercy of the highest degree before their skin was peeled off like some exotic fruit. But there was a low discomfort in this place like it was touching some distant part of his thoughts that were plenty muddled and messy. Avoiding even grazing it as the threat of pain was enough to ensure he gave a mentally wide berth.
Settling feeties on the floor to come scuttling closer as he was eyeing her. Trying to determine what might be making the beastly woman turn into a wobbly mess whilst answering him about how this Derrick had managed to do any of this.
And the answer was well, bet he found something he shouldn’t have. Something likely shoved away in these caves that was someone else’s attempt to assure it would never be found.
People really needed to learn. Either you destroyed the things properly if you could, or you took it to the grave with you somehow. But that was just commentary he didn’t offer. Instead tilting buggy head at her when she stated that Derrick’s first summon was a little dancing devil of flame. Minor demons but chaotic because they liked to set everything on fire. It had in turn been her moment that she revealed she possessed magic as well. “I see.” Arc hummed before his frame shimmered back to a proper human form. Eyeing her in such a way that it wasn’t clear if he was pitying her, looking for something to make fun of or something else unable to be described.
Instead turning attention around the space again. Lingering till he was pushing himself off the ground and offering her a hand up. “There must be somethin’ rather special about yer magic that he couldn’t just use the tome.” He knew magic pretty well. It had actually been one of his greatest gifts but that didn’t mean he knew everything about it. Especially demon magic, it tended to be rather obscure and hard to follow its purpose. Usually it didn’t have a purpose. “No one else knew yah were a untaught mage? Merely him by accident?”
For moment Calia glanced at his offered hand as if he’d had vipers for fingers. The unexpected gesture was suspicious, especially considering how much he liked to point out that he was in fact a demon and how demons did what they did: being assholes. The fight had left her, though, unclear if it were because she simply lacked the physical energy or because this place was bringing up all of those raw emotions she’d been stomping down to bury in a mental casket.
So Calia did accept the offered hand to pull herself back to her feet, wavering there a second before she had her bearings again. A deep breath and that inner demand to focus on the task at hand.
“I’m not a mage,” she corrected him, pulling away to actually start this means of investigating by moving over to some of the haphazardly put together shelves that contained other books and curious items. “And before you have a fuss, I know I’m not a mage because I’ve met mages. Their magic works differently. It… has limits.”
As Calia had already made very clear when she’d testing out his demonic magic, whatever her magic was, she was clearly used to doing whatever the hell she damn well pleased with it. Everything else felt like she was being shoved into a tiny prison.
“He was the only one to know and he only got to see that one moment,” she revealed, taking stock of one of the tables where several jars filled with who the fuck knew what. “I cut contact with him immediately because…. there is a look on people’s face they get when they have a certain sort of ambition, I suppose? He had a taste of power, saw mine, and it was so painfully obvious what he actually cared about.”
Calia had a weakness for a pretty face and those that knew how to talk to her in just the right way. She’d had dozens of crushes before then and dozens more after, but most of the time she was good at catching those warning signs that a man was about to be trouble. It’d come out in the way they’d be possessive, or jealous, or the way they talked to tavern wenches. If they were careless to animals, treated kids like dogs, or pissed on the side of a building instead of stepping a few feet out towards the trees. After awhile she’d figured out that a single night was far better than attempting anything further, cause something ugly eventually came up and on the rare occasions a man was worth the further effort, Calia found she couldn’t allow it. Knowing eventually she’d have to reveal her secret and deal with the consequences after.
Should have killed each and every one, then there would be no one wicked left.
Not helpful, inner voice. Even if it was a tempting thought!
“I don’t know what I’m looking for here,” she finally admitted. “A journal of thoughts? Traces of the summoning spell he used to unleash all his demons? The glyphs all over the walls were to keep me from using my magic, that I know. The mirror was activated before I shattered it. There was no blood on the floor until after I awoke. So what am I missing?”
Surprisingly she didn’t smack his hand or reach over to bite at it. Rather taking it that he counter balanced his weight to help pull her up. Releasing promptly as attention was notably scanning around the place. Looking for anything that might made his mind wiggle in that a-ha sort of eureka. Just that Calia stated she was not of the mage class. Earning a violet coloured stare that was curious but not as malicious as it typically was. Actually, he seemed to be authentically interested, “Yer not wrong. Limitations is what keeps most of them magic sorts from tryin’ to summon somethin’ they ought not too. A lesson this wannabe boy did not pick up. But power is a thin’ that can fuck up people right quick when they don’t know how to handle it.”
Stepping away as not to potentially crowd, he had drawn himself to the mirror. Giving it a considering look. Looking behind it as well whilst she spoke up. Stating it had only been Derrick that was aware of her powers. And in turn she had decided that was the end as well. Just she only could decided her side of things considering the boy had come back and made it apparent that whatever she was, he wanted.
And got.
It was sounding like the book likely had some sort of taint around it. Probably a tethered spirit that applied itself to the kid at the time and only sat like a festering wound to start twisting thoughts, behaviours and offering all sort of promises that a demon would to incur favour. The sort of desirables that was held in heart. Just he couldn’t think of any known demon that had such talents.
Which meant either it wasn’t a demon, or this person was so ancient that even when he had become a demon, he didn’t know of them.
Turning to look at the blood ever so nicely arranged on the floor when Calia spoke up once more. Admitting she had no idea what she was looking for. “Summonin’ spells are easy.” Arc replied, “The stronger spell yah want, the better sacrifice yah need. Most folks just use innocent animals. Goats. Dogs… it’s an ugly sort of reality but fact. And how strong this portal of summonin’ was, well I surmise that the twisted git likely was using people. If yah had a lot of missin’ souls recently, in say the past year… that might be a indication that he was siphoning bodies. Blood.” He spoke about it very casually. As it had little to bother him with.
“I ain’t sure how one steals another’s magic when they be humans.” Stepping back, Arc crossed that of arms. Eyes over shoulders as the light glow of beating horns gleamed against the dark navy locks. “Would a journal be useful, it might tell yah that he was batshit crazy but not entirely the way. Yah said he looked like he had ambition once he figured out yah had some stellar magic. What was he like before hand? Any red flags yah might have missed?”
Arc then pointed at the mirror, “There is a trace of old magic here however. Makes my tongue feel hairy but it’s old. Older than I am so I can’t tell yah where it came from. Just ill omen, if I were to slide a vague guess into the ether, that book he found and the mirror are likely two halves of something that was sealed away. For good reason.” The demon turned on his heel, “Any old tales in yer culture that speaks of something better put away?”
If limitations were what kept the average magic user from going wild and using their power to terrorize the world, well… here she was, proof of the fact, she supposed. Her own arrogance and stupidity landing her into a situation where now her magic was in the hands of a twisted up bastard. Calia could only hope that he did not yet know how to handle it himself. For destroying the capitol city with a hoard of demons seemed like a stepping stone to something much, much worse. The demons did all the work for him there, so what was going to happen if he was able to take her magic fully to use at his leisure!
Calia took one of the jars off the shelves and gave it a shake, discovering quickly that it was full of pickled eyeball and grimacing at the fact. Tempted to send it smashing to the ground along with the other wretched collection of dark artifacts. Such a tantrum would not help, however, and she did not want to accidentally pull in some new hellish monster inside herself. Unsure how many souls a single body could hold before it burst from the inside out. Finding it was easy to imagine, as Calia had a grand imagination when it came to abysmal scenarios.
“Before that day he was…” it actually took her a moment to pause and think about it. When she’d cut herself away from him, she did so in such a spiteful, willful way that she’d not given him a second thought in years. Having to actually search her memories for something useful.
“Charismatic, I suppose. I was fifteen and he was new to the village, having taken up an apprenticeship as a stable hand. He was a few years older than I, with the sort of pretty face that made all of the maidens giggle. He hated the job, but who would enjoy shovel shit all day, anyway. I quite liked him, though, because he was curious about everything and loved to explore or research things he found. It was all harmless until it suddenly wasn’t.” She paused there with a wrinkle of her nose. “There was an arrogance to him too, but that is always so easily ignored when you’re so infatuated with other things.”
This cavern was so stuffy and stale, with the smell of blood still hanging in the air and the eerie feeling of everything being wrong. Calia pressed that hand to her temple again where that throbbing of a headache was trying to start. Despite the fact it was her stomach twisting and churning. If there was anything in there she might’ve thrown it up by now. When the mention of the mirror she wandered over to take a look at the frame, seeing if anything out it sparked up some memory of an old tale or superstitious story. But in all honesty, she’d never in her life seen anything like it, not even in all the books she’d read about the old world magic and everything in between.
“It could be from before these mountains were settled by the ancient nomad tribes. Before Caeldalmor was even a glimmer of a thought and those of other realms could still roam freely through this one.”
Two halves, then. If shattering the mirror took care of one half, then Calia might need to actually hunt down that cursed book to take care of the other. For at the very least, she had a feeling that book gave Derrick the ability to steal her very heart – and she needed to put it back where it belonged!
He could have rolled his eyes at the very word. Charismatic.
And the boy had come here then to apprentice under the stable master. Which Calia was right, who wanted to shovel road apples all day long. It was a fair reason to be properly annoyed but, the boy that was older had been attractive. Add on that she noted too late that he had ambition and well, Arc was humming. Index finger rubbing at chin with deep thought. Searching through the motions of memory like a living book itself.
He knew the Mad Queen could take hearts as well. And he knew she had children, could it be that Derrick was one of hers? Sent here for the purpose of using this secluded place as the perfect option to open a hellgate for floods of demons to come through. To kill and rape and destroy because a place saturated in such blood would be absolutely useful for the elder demons. The more calamity there was, the better they could survive. And whatever age old promise was exchanged with the Mad Queen and the dark masters, a bit off a kingdom size offering likely was nothing new.
He wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. And that this all was said offering to ensure she stayed in power and her master’s of the black were ever appeased.
So he was listening to Calia speak but lodging away thoughts and farfetched considerations mutely. Acting uncharacteristically less of said proclaimed impish self. At least eventually speaking to find her stepping over to the mirror that he could detect magic once being an ingrained part of it. Eventually pursing lips first then sucking lower lip through fanged teeth. “Yah… that was what I was hopin’ was not potentially a thing. Ain’t the first time people take stuff they want no business with and bury it with ideas that it won’t ever be found. Save one snoopy person with enough gumption, will find it.”
Cracking neck, he turned then to step away from the mirror. Looking at the variety of shelves as he helped himself to start reaching and grabbing various items. Peeking into jars and finding a huffing laugh, “He was trying all sorts of cauldron spells, wasn’t he? The sort of voodoo starter magic that needs reagents to work. Ain’t seen this stuff for a good long time. Messy stuff too.” But useful as he pushed back a jar that looked like it had mummified rat heads in it. Setting it in place but grabbing another. Repeating the process only that he took down some ingredients that seemed to have been of interest.
Eventually turning around to set some of the collected items down. “Rue. Olive leaves. Bay laurel leaves… do you see a mortar and pestle around?” The demon asked before he was humming, “Need salt, and wort… what the hell was that other thin’… somethin’ with an A…” Arc was again humming as he considered the walls. He couldn’t recall the last time he used reagents for anything, let alone a spell that ought to work well in driving out a demon parasite!
“Amaranth, Angelica, Anise…” she started listing off herbs, casually with no real thought to it or understanding of what he was up to. But it was clear Calia had at least some familiarity with such, and if he’d ask she’d simply explain it was the favored method of magic for old hags in the woods. If it even had a touch of magic to it, Calia had at once point attempted a little dabble to discover what was meant for her and what was not.
She also just loved well seasoned food. How boring life would be without herbs!
The princess was haunting one of the bookshelves, having plucked out a leather bound journal that at least appeared to be something well used and often opened. Leafing through the pages with her brow furrowed only to find she couldn’t make heads nor tails of what any of it actually said. Vaguely it did seem almost recognizable in the handwriting, likely to be Derrick’s, but it was all in a language she didn’t know with symbols she couldn’t even recognize as something she’d seen before. Not likely to be from any of the other kingdoms or nations tucked away hidden in the mountains themselves.
He’d said something about a mortar and pestle, setting her to glancing around again. Setting her to shift around the cavern like some sort of witless zombie until she found just the thing to bring across and plop with a heft thud on a table nearby. Appearing very much the docile quiet little helper instead of the snarling bundle of violence that she’d woken up with twice before. As if everything was finally all crushing down on her at once to send her into that meek state of defeat.
It couldn’t be farther from the reality, Calia just had a habit of retreating inside herself when something was difficult. And in that moment she was struggling against something gribbly and hungry whispering all kinds of wishes for her to drop to her knees and start licking blood up off the stone ground. Absolutely fucking disgusting, she was NOT going to do that.
Hearts have power. Take his.
That, on the other hand, was such a tempting alluring idea that it was already percolating in her head before she could stop and think exactly who and where the idea came from! Dark green eyes going back towards the shelves of arranged jars and boxes, wondering how many had a poison strong enough to fell a demon. It wouldn’t take much. Just an open wound and opportunity.
Nope! Nope. Calia did not want to die today and that seemed like a very stupid way to get herself killed.
“Hmm….” He thought over her offered suggestions but none felt right. Scrambling over thoughts of knowledge that came from somewhere long ago and didn’t make his brain feel like it was being ground beneath pointed heels. “Níl.” Shaking head to accept that his gut feeling was indicating that her suggestions weren’t the ones he were looking for.
Settling for milling along the shelves to repeat the process of picking up, checking into and promptly –mostly- identifying items.
There were some in there that were highly odd. And unrecognizable. At least for himself.
Witch brew magic had a tendency to change in the years when they figured out better ways of doing something. Or what might be a more potent ingredient that wouldn’t need for them to dance outside naked under a winter full moon for three hours. Which, fair, he’d prefer a different method to that as well!
With a heady thud and attention slipping down to look at the proffered items, “Go raibh maith agat.” He was apparently deep in his own thoughts that slipping into an old tongue was familiar and not to mention that he was thanking her for the efforts in that same way. Unbothered whilst picking off a smaller clay jar to investigate with an approving nod. Setting it down, “Galbanum.” A pleased sound as he was simply missing two more things.
One was easily found after a few seconds more and closed promptly with an approving nod. “A man of better ingredients than most.” Pure sulphur thankfully wasn’t as smelly as its counterpart was, so this was a boon. Stepping over holding the jar with a considering eye moving through till he sort of just was standing there. Thinking and eventually stepping back to the offered mortar and pestle. Taking the few item that were gathered to sprinkle into that of the mortar. Seemingly measuring out the ingredients with more of a practiced familiarity till, he stopped.
Looking around and, “Asafetida.” Arc turned to lay his stare upon her. “It’s an herb in the celery family. And smells like boiled eggs, it’ll be the last piece to mill together and well, then hopefully the next steps will be enough to shoo away yer tick of a unwanted houseguest upon yah.” Then he shrugged, “Then that oughta be enough to give yah yer freedom back from both it and I.” As he stated, he was only doing this and little else!
Calia took new interest in wondering exactly what he was up to when she’d managed to deny the little voice in her head that was currently tippy-tapping and singing a little song about blood and hearts. Pure madness really and had she’d been anyone else, she might’ve already slipped her dagger from her belt and stabbed it right into his side while he was so focused and distracted. Not that it wasn’t a difficult feat, for she was resting a hand on the table to lean and keep herself upright. Stiff and rigid, raising a hand to wipe at the back of her neck because that clammy feeling was bring on a cold sweat. Calia was starving and he was MEAT. A big sack of meat and blood and power. Power that she so very much wanted to snatch up and fill that empty cavity in her chest.
How long would it take for the average person to succumb to a parasitic demon? Did it matter how strong the demon was? How strong she was? Calia could only figure the reason why she still stood was because she’d already tipped over the deep end before the parasitic bastard and crawled inside. Having a fine party, no doubt, with the gripping shadows that were pulling her chest open. Laughing down at the box that had grown into a coffin just to be large enough to hold her feelings in it.
…what was she thinking about again? What was she doing here?
That dagger was in her hand before she knew how it got there and in a quick violent stab it went down deep into the old wood of the table. Causing a great deal of rattling from every jar atop it.
“Asafetida,” she croaked out. Moving away from him as quickly as she could get her stilted, stiff self to move before sword was the next thing in her hands. Stumbling over to a different line of shelves to draw down containers to sniff, looking for that described smell.
“Of course it would take Devil’s Dung to remove a devil. It could not be mint or lavender or something sweet.”
Focus, Focus, Focus. Her own voice, thankfully. One task at a time.
There ought to be concern the second the dagger was driven down into the wood of the table. Most people would have freaked out and leapt away. Himself? Well there was concern of course for his own hide. Looking at the dagger that was protruding out as the jars tried to cease their trembling from the rough way Calia had stabbed it down.
That couldn’t be good for the sharpness of the blade.
Tilting a level eye after her when she seemed to be as he could describe, woodenly walking aside to start looking for the request, as he ground the current items down into a near powder. Not about to overdo it because that last bit was still missing.
But keeping a new attention on her because honestly, if she was about to try and take a stab at him, he was out. This was already outside his box of usual tricks. Offering genuine assistance was not in his usual cards but even he didn’t think it was a grand idea to be a mushroom head. “It won’t smell after its all mixed up.” Arc commented before eyes were narrowing at her, “Do yah maybe wanna step outside so yah aren’t liable to try takin’ a new stab at me?” he seemed to know she was up to something, “Or whatever this was for,” flicking the tip of the dagger to make it wiggle, Arc was renewed in his caution.
Calia would not make it to a place of sacred blessing, she was realizing there in the moment. Supposing if she had her magic she would’ve been able to fight it with ease. If she’d been well rested, well fed, not on the brink of a mental breakdown, she might have made it the few days travel to the beautiful serene place that might not have been holy, but would have been a true cleansing regardless. If it only took her mind to fight it, Calia would win hands down, no contest. But the wily son of a bitch was somehow devouring her up at her weakest, taking her down by physical means.
Stubbornness, pure willful stubbornness was the only thing keeping upright now.
“I can’t,” she grunted, fumbling and searching through the shelves. “I’ll hurt Mercy.”
Archimedes could defend himself, it was the simple truth of it. Calia didn’t want another murder of an innocent thing at her hands. At least she knew the demon wouldn’t hesitate to kill her dead before she went tearing out of the cave as some new form of monster.
“The– irony in– trying not to kill you now,” she muttered through sharp pauses, a deep serious scowl and the way her hands bumped an clattered through jars. Opening cork and twisting lids only to discord things just as quick. Ignoring the things she recognized on sight until she found a little drying box that had the right scent and looked to be some of the drying flower buds and leaves of the Devil’s Dung he was looking for.
She brought it to him with all of the speed of an old crotchety woman, with shoulders scrunched and back curved forward. Dropping the box on the table with no grace whatsoever before she turned on a heel. Grabbing at the buckle of her belt to quickly undo it, to toss it as far from her as she could with sheathed sword along with it. Thinking that at least with no weapons on her, she might buy those few extra moments.
Calia hated this, hated it. And there was the familiar burning anger rearing up, her own for certain with an unexpected layer of something else in it. Whatever had it’s claws within her before she’d picked up a passenger wasn’t pleased either. She hoped that bastard Derrick couldn’t eavesdrop on her thoughts and well being with hopes to keep her still living, because she suddenly had the very strong desire to send out a very clear and violent fuck you in the form of cutting her own throat just to spite him AND the parasite!
If anything was going to take her over, she’d rather fucking die!
“Best yah not do that.” He was actually serious about her not going after the mare. “Ain’t no animal that needs to be scared shitless when they ain’t doin’ nothin’.” He was a demon, but he wasn’t heartless. That was part of a crux of being one who had once upon a merry little time ago had been that of elven flesh and blood. It made him still have a beating vessel that could feel things even if generally it offered nothing more than grinning jest and a desire to flirt around with every pretty little thing of the naturally born feminine flounce.
Just he was doing a good deed as it were. Helping this wicked witch of the north reclaim herself to be a single entity rather than two. As a very loose and not to be looked into it sort of gesture that while he had happily spilt the blood the night prior, this was an offering that she could be freed to go off after the boy turned demon summoner.
He’d be outta here anyways and if Derrick did manage to have his face torn off by Calia or she keeled over somewhere else, then no one could even vaguely blame him.
Blinking some when she was making it a show that she was actually doing seemingly poorly with clattering around to find the item of last importance. Idly cracking knuckles while she went about manhandling every potential item till it appeared she had discovered the very item necessary. Leaving her to come hobbling over and looking like she was attempting to do the reverse limbo. Dropping the box so he could flip it open and throw a healthy amount to be ground down. Only that momentarily, with a great clatter, she threw her sword.
Himself looking the way it had been tossed. Sliding across the floor till he was slowly rounding gaze back towards her and rolling the pestle through. Eyes went up and down. Lips were pleasantly shut till he was picking up the mortar to feel the ground power of the substances. Checking its consistency. Looking pleased with the result so he could hold the mortar’s base in palm. Turning it this way and that. Funneling a low fiery spell to start warming up the heavy item till the ingredients within were naturally smoking. “Yah be needing to breath it in so the parasite yah got hangin’ about gets an unpleasant whiff. It’s strong enough to knock out a forth rank demon and a parasite is low hangin’ fruit. Small potatoes in its current possessing stage, so,” he set the smoking mortar to the ground rather than the table. And stepped back to show he wasn’t about do to anything. “If yah can trust me for that. If yah do, then just be ready to stomp. It’ll be a worm of sorts that pops outta yah. Squish it fast before it decides to wriggle outta here after Mercy. They don’t care typically if its a beast or not they get into.”
“I don’t… trust you in the- in the slightest,” she shot back. Not even watching him, really, as she pressed heel of her palm between her eyes, shaking out her other hand just to have the aid of movement to keep her focus on. Calia was listening though, to every instruction.
The trouble was that she was having the damndest of a time trying to get her own body to move towards the smoke spell in it’s waiting mortar. A familiar feeling of horror and fear welling up, trying to make her do anything BUT walk towards it. Skreeking, scrabbling, willing her to climb up the walls or go tearing out of the cavern itself. Demanding she pick up weapon or even just fingernails to launch herself at the only other living thing within reach. For a split second, a long alarming second, Calia thought she might have blacked out and had been done in already, but she was still standing in the same spot and Archimedes was looking at her like she had been the demon all along!
Calia had to literally drop herself to her knees just to get closer to it. Narrowing eyes at that mortar like it was the next thing she had to fight, a little afraid that her own arm was going to reach out and slap it across the room. Only just managing to crawl herself to it and lean forward to force a long breath out and then take a deep breath in.
Saying it smelled of a dead horse’s ass would be an insult to every dead horse in the world. On that first deep breath she started coughing hard, likely would’ve vomited out everything in her stomach had there been anything in there. Forced herself to keep breathing even when her lungs burned, and her eyes watered, and something under her skin started crawling and wriggling. Cringing when it ran up her arm, over her shoulder, and up to her neck where at the first spot of bare skin not covered by tunic or armor it exploded out in a spray of blood. Wiggling it’s way past her grasping fingers to plop on the stained ground for it’s escape.
Not to get far because the mountain princess had bolted to her feet, grabbing the first object her hands could reach and slamming that chair down so hard on top of the parasite that it splintered into pieces. Screaming such a feral sort of snarl when she kicked those pieces out of the way and made doubly sure it wasn’t anything more than stomped paste under her boot. Scraping it across the stone.
“Fuck you, you fuck,” she shouted at it again, chest heaving for another gasping breath. Not registered that for the first time, in who knew how long she’d had genuine crying tears.
She was liable to get a glare worthy of toppling over great monuments created in favour of gods. For the mere statement that she was even yet wasting efforts of telling him the means of temporary trust, he ought to have shrugged. Laughed. Hell, even flipping her two birds would have been with fair rights.
However, be it to her if she simply wanted to become that of a husk of a body. Left to be the parasites perfect mobile host, then so be it.
He did more than he typically would have. “Have it yer way.” Hands moved to raise to cup upon neck. Making a notable step back once more as there came that of a show. Where he might actually expect her very skull to explode, revealing a new fave belonging to some mutli eyed ghastly looking ghoul.
It was quite the scene certainly. A fight that seemed to be threatening to turn sour in a snap of fingers. With a proud woman refusing to give up, crawling by hand and knee to the wispy plume that truly had him momentarily wondering if he remembered the concoction correctly.
That stubbornness worked for one thing. She inhaler even after the initial horror turned to violent hacking. And gulped down heavy breaths till, her very neck burst with the foul demon spawn bursting out. Vacating the host that was willing to torture it with banishing spells, likely hoping she would not be daring enough to react.
Alas, that was not the case.
Shortly finding itself smashed to near ribbons and stomped like it was a twisted version of grapes being crushed to wine. Leaving a messy smear of guts and alabaster skin peppered with blood. Nothing left besides a well deserved end.
She was screaming -as one ought to after that experience- he didn’t linger. Moving out the way they’d originally came. Unhindered by the brief stint of darkness but shielding eyes from the murky sun peering down freely from a mid morning day.
Naturally looking to the grazing dam with approval she was unharmed. Contently gliding to her with an easy brush of palm over strong hide quarters, alerting her to his presence.
Well he did what he said he would with also adhering to the means of leaving the bitter wart to her gallant attempt at vengeance. He’d just figure out of one left this butthole mountain kingdom, one way or another.
Thank all the gods, old and new, that he’d finally left her alone. For Calia had hit her limit, she was spent, done, drained, and just overall felt like she’d been trampled under someone’s boots herself. Staggering over to a chair that hadn’t been shattered by herself to drop into the seat and just cry now that the floodgates had been unleashed. Something she never really in her life before – what was there to cry about? Calia was good at solving her own problems and wasn’t one to take things to heart too deeply.
But this time she cried and the time she was done, with her chest aching inside and her stomach twisted, maybe it was something she desperately needed. For when she was finished, glancing around the dim empty cavern she felt… not better. Clearer. Like at least one of the stones on her shoulders had been lifted. Realizing for all the vehemence she had for avoiding death, living didn’t mean much if she was lost in the process. She needed to remain herself, and while a part of her was missing, if she kept assuming that she was nothing without her magic, some asshole demon was going to find a way to crawl inside and make that nothing their new home.
Finally gathering to her feet, Calia did a final search of the place, filling a small sack with anything valuable or might be useful. With that slung over shoulder, she had one last piece of business in this cursed place. Throwing everything that looked wicked, suspicious or otherwise into a pile on top of that now dead parasite. Pausing in front of the black, eerie mirror frame before grabbing it too, snapping the thing in pieces to toss on the pile. A further search found some kindle and she set the whole thing on fire. There would be no coming back to his particular lair for renewed evil sorcery.
By the time Calia made her way out of the cavern and through the long passage out into the sunlight again, she had a new plan in mind. Not something so wild and reckless, though it wasn’t going to be wise or safe, either. Just a plan that gave her a little more grace to remember who and what she was. Not a witch princess, nor an unwitting monster, not nothing. She was Calia of Caeldalmor and she was something, even if she did not yet know what it was.
That of her wish truly had come to be part of fruition. Outside, it only stood Mercy. Unbothered currently by the world since there was plenty bits of greenery that ought to work well at keeping the mare happily fed for hours. Seemingly all items procured from the village had been left untouched and there wasn’t something glistening in the nearby trees or ground that was a large palm sized demon bug.
It was pleasantly devoid. A good place to be for one that sought that solidarity.
Not a single sign of Archimedes, leaving Calia relieved. …and not so much? That was a curious mix of contradicting thoughts she rolled in her head as she approached the chestnut mare and gave the lovely thing a few soothing strokes to the neck. His interest must’ve been sated once he realized that Calia was indeed going to be far more trouble than she was worth.
She’d told him she was a problem. Perhaps she hadn’t meant it in quite this way, preferring her attempts of murdering demons to be ones she chose herself and not because she was possessed! But this was a good thing. Calia operated better on her own without someone else making things more complicated.
Except for Miss Mercy, she welcomed this sweet and innocent life to be a part of her journey. One precious thing that Calia could have to remind herself of what she was doing and why it was important.
“Alright, my love. Let’s go for a real run.” she told the mare with affectionate pets to that of muzzle before she took the reigns and mounted with a lot less ease than usual. As exhausted as she was, Calia needed to hold on until she’d gotten them just as far as she could away from here. Nudging the horse into quick trot and then when the ground was more even and stable into a full on gallop pushing Mercy as fast as her powerful legs could go!
Taking a different route than before, they went well past the village in their heading north. Deep into the forest past the burned down tavern and mess Calia left behind there. Riding and riding deep into the woods until the sun had long set and the stars had taken over. Pausing only when Miss Mercy needed the moments to rest, have a little water or a snack. Still riding until the fir forest around them was so dense that Calia could no longer see the moon or stars above them, and had to admit that stopping for night would be best to allow her equine companion a chance to sleep.
Finding the smallest clearing where they could make a nest for the night. Enough room for Mercy to stand or plop and a space where Calia could put together a small fire with a ring of stones to keep it from getting loose. Once the fire was steady burning, the princess plopped beside it. Thinking that she ought to eat something, but not having much of the will to do so. Deciding she could worry about that in the morning, if she could be brave enough to sleep.
The danger of being in a hotzone that had been cracked open like a fresh oven was the variety of types of demons that could appear. They were plenty with all sorts of appearances that weren’t exactly all grotesque horrors.
With a fire source branching itself through the trees, it was natural to bring attention. Particularly that of a bird that appeared to be a raven by the size of it, save for the fact that in the middle of its skull was an additional eye. Happily sweeping down from the thick canopy to hip hop closer at the new bodies present and eyed Calia openly.
Calia had slid down to rest her head against a fall long, watching the fire flicker and move in hopes that it would lull her to sleep. She wasn’t sure what brought her awareness up to the branches above, being well used to the movements of night animals. Maybe it was simply that crawling feeling of being stared at by something that had a little more sentience than the common forest creature. And seeing as she was nowhere near the fae-wood yet, there was this inward sigh that it was something just as dangerous.
“What a nice warm fire,” she mused out loud. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if a cheeky bird just fell right in it. Not often a free meal falls into your lap.”
The crow opened that of wings and gave a gravelly caw to that of the woman’s words. Flapping hard to help itself down to the forest ground before waddling with seemingly no fear at all. Strutting into fire light where the gleam could catch upon its umbra covered body and speckling red trio of eyes. Waiting a moment till nearby additions of caws replied. Letting the canopies start to sparkle with slow appearance of more scavenging birds to manifest themselves.
Gathering a demonic murder, till it was present that there was quite the collection of monstrous birds.
Bristling did the raven that seemed to be leading this charge, fluffing itself up larger. Parting beak to let a deep hissing noise expand through its lungs.
We… would… agree.
Chittering around the canopies spoke up, a clattering of many all voicing their delight.
Free… meals… are… best.
“Well, fuck,” she said out loud. Shifting herself into an upright position – not rushing to do so, she wasn’t about to physically express she was alarmed by this new development. Dealing with a group of imps was one thing. They were large enough that all you really needed to do was take out a wing or two and you could kill them off quick enough. A murder of crows was an entirely different issue! Even just angry normal crows were a pain in the ass, this was going to be a disaster!
One that Calia doubt she could swing a sword through, even when she glanced over at her removed weapon sitting a few paces away.
Different tactics, then.
“I wasn’t counting on company, but if you lot are hungry I guess we could do something about it.” she mused, considering her options quickly. She couldn’t imagine a bunch of demon crows taking out a whole horse, but then, they WERE demons. Calia could jump on Mercy and run, but she’d just have the whole lot chasing them both.
“I don’t suppose you all enjoy hunting, do you? I could get us a nice wild boar. Something bigger with a little help.”
It flitted like wind on the breeze. Demonic wind as it were. Little giggles alternating between something that sounded adult and childlike. Amusement twisted and properly delighted. Unhinged.
We… are… hunting…
The one raven that was presently the nearest and most obviously exposed with it being on the ground all flared up like it was trying to start a mating dance; it’s middle eye glinted. Then squinted with a pleased sort of merriment.
We… found… you…
A couple more in the distance had come down to the ground. Others mounting along the trees nearest with eyes glinting against the firelight. Where Mercy herself seemed to be plenty aware of new rising threat if the way her ears were flicking back and forth. Nostrils flared and heavy huffing. Likely debating if bolting now was a safe option or not.
Human… blood… good !
Fantastic.
Here was another one of those moment that her magic would make this a simple fix. Calia shifting again to gather up to her knee and then further still to her feet while she oh-so-casually dust herself off. Attempting to count how many of the crows were now perching within the reach of firelight. Too many. There was a chance she could take a few down with her, but she was going down.
“Oh but, I am only a single human and you are so many,” Calia replied. Inching herself along to get closer to her waiting weapons. “Only the fastest and smartest of you will get a chunk out of me, and the rest of you won’t get much else than bone to pick at.”
“Seems unfair that you wouldn’t all get a piece,” she continued. “Where I’m plenty hungry myself, no reason why we can’t all have a good jaunt through the woods. Find something tastier than human or horse. I hear demons love eating other bigger demons. You could take me to something big enough to stick a sword through and it’ll be plenty enough for all of you.”
Two more landed on the ground. Hopping or strutting along to be shown that they might not be nearly as dense as the former imps she had dealt with. If they were anything like actual ravens, or corvids, they did have some smarts. Able to problem solve and remember faces. Where the flutter of giggles sounded again and more seemed ready to hop down.
Stirring Mercy into knickering her high displeasure.
Strong… eat… first…
They didn’t seem to care about the idea of sharing any sort of meal.
Human… delicious… treat…
More landed starting to make the forest floor look like a living feather pile. Bodies shifting, wings spreading paired with the disjointed humanoid sounds that weren’t for animals to make!
Demons… plenty… you
That first raven screamed in delighted excitement
Not… plenty… It gave a curious head tilt. One way. Another, gauging its prey before the sound of Mercy fully shrieking came to break the forest ambience. Turning to buck and rear as others had swarmed down to start biting and pestering the horse. Run… for… fun!
Shit, shit, shit!
Calia was far too tired for this, but adrenaline and stubbornness could carry a woman a long way! The instant poor Mercy let out a whinnied protest about being menaced Calia dove for one of the sticks in the fire, hissing a sound at the burns she likely earned in the process, only to start swinging that branch with a smooth intent. Smacking at least one or two of the beastly birds right in the beak to get them off the horse before it was Mercy herself that got a hard slap to the rear.
They might still give chase to her equine companion, but at least Mercy could run and Calia staying behind as the tasty baited treat might give her a better chance.
As for Calia herself, she had a flaming torch of a branch in her hand and she used it with gusto. If they wanted to be burning feather balls, she was happy to oblige. Giving controlled swings when she needed, while making a stumbling fetch for her sword.
“Alright then, come at me you feathered twits! We could’ve made a grand hunting party! Now you’re going to be feasting on bitter hag!”
The poor mare might have been temporarily saved but anyone getting potentially swung at by a fiery stick, wasn’t likely to stay and talk about the weather. It seemed more than anything as a fine declaration for the mare to flee for her life once more. Not about to play house guest to a bunch of hungry demon birds!
Although those that had gotten a heated swat, declared how unhappy they were to be at all!
Only that more happily started to swarm out of the trees like a blanket of black. Screaming and cawing in a swirling beckoning, lunging those who were notably smaller at the woman that was wielding a wooden brand at them and larger ones swooping down from behind. Pecking, grabbing with talons at hair. Clothing. Bouncing off armour but managing to regain themselves to come back around.
Using their many companions as a blur of cloud that was pointedly trying to keep woman from sword. Either they knew what was happening or it was dumb luck.
Save for when one of the larger ones came down to land on the sword hilt itself. Eyeing it first and then squatting on its handle with an open mouth. Ready to bite and peck with dagger beak!
This was the stupidest way to die, Calia thought wildly, because this was it, wasn’t it! Pecked to death by demon birds! While the burning branch was doing pretty well at smacking and slinging them, there were just so many. The stupid little bastard that plopping itself on her sword and opened it’s beak as if it was going to swallow up her whole hand should she try to reach for it got itself a boot right to it’s feathered body. No telling where it went because there were even more to take it’s place.
Calia let out a yelp, forced to throw her arm over her face to protect her eyes lest she loose them to pecking. Now reduced to flailing with branch without the extra senses to see. Until her stumbling about took her through the fire itself, sending the woman tumbling down to the ground in a spray of embers. Scattering burning wood in all directions – not that it could provide light any longer with the sheer amount of cawing hungry feathered shits!
In a roll she’d lost her branch too and for a split second she almost just threw both her arm over her head to curl up and let herself be taken into the madness. Except that annoying need to live reared up it’s ugly head again. Prompting the princess to scrabble and fight herself back to her feet. To make an attempt for a mad dash into the woods the opposite direction of Miss Mercy.
There may have been some mocking laughter wrangled in the mad feather bodies when the one had been kicked aside like a child’s ball. Only for others to come squatting upon the weapon that they seemed to be aware was more of a danger than the fiery stick. Granted those who kept getting hit by it may have had a different story!
Demons were all sorts of wily beasts. Ones that worked in a massive group and those who were solo. All varying in what they could or could not do. Apparently ones that wanted just human blood didn’t seem to overly care. Happy to swarm and dive bomb. Screaking in delighted mad hungry flurry as they appeared to be well on their way of acquiring the meal that they had found in their newly proclaimed woods.
And certainly there was the twisted giggles when the human proved to start trying to run. Liable to make the chase certainly fun, if it weren’t for the stomping thundering thud of something much bigger stepping through. Likely roused into curiosity by that of the noisy fucking demonic birds. Summoning a beast that was certainly wide as it was tall, pushing over trees in its intrigue; only that its face was a twisted mask of jutting teeth and fiery eyes in black pits.
Lowly grumbling at the fluttering flock of irritants. Enough to be too much for the beast to swing great axe outwards to cleave through the raven’s. Blood and feathers exploded as the weapon sliced through the bodies, turning the sounds of birdy merriment into pure terror. Willing to leave their meal because a bigger demon with a deadly weapon was more of a problem!
One that the demon itself laid hellish gaze down to woman. Features turned from irritated curiosity to delighted awe, “Human!” It barked and made a stupid reach down to grab at her with hand not busy with the handle of axe.
With the darkness and the frenzy, Calia couldn’t see the even bigger demon approaching, although the ominous sound of entire fir trees being shoved over and felling against wood was a recognizable sound to new fresh danger. Feathers were now flying in all directions due to a mighty swing and a chaotic escape of the annoying crows. With Calia skidding to a fast stop when the new foe appeared in all of it’s ginormous glory in the open light of the moon, complete with fiery eyes to cast an imposing figure.
Calia didn’t have any cursed words this time.
“no, NO-” she shouted, landing in the dirt when she made another evasive dash to get out of the way of meaty reaching hand. Heaving painful breaths to return to her feet and once again charge back the way she came. Sword BAD for crows, but GOOD for giant demons.
Though, in this case Calia decided she was just going to grab her weapon and run like hell! Or OUT of hell, because she was a little concerned now that she’d somehow accidentally walked herself and Mercy through a hellgate and now she was in true demon territory!
Apparently the bigger they potentially were, the dumber they were. Just a little more dangerous due to their reckless desire to swing first and ask no questions later. For this demon had seemingly just found a jackpot with an alive human! A true delicacy in the means of being a bitesize snack that could be bragged about later. Although much to its awe, the hand had closed on nothing. “Huh?” Peeking fingers out slowly to be sure that the great mitt had been truly empty, feet promptly began stopping. “Noooo! Want human!” It screamed like a spoiled brat.
Accompanied by a few arms swings. Uncaring to the hack and slash momentum that was the great axe being swung around. Cutting any stupid birds that hadn’t the sense to flee with the rest. Becoming a one man harvesting crew with trees felling haphazardly.
Though eyes seemed to pick up the motion of the elusive prey. Barely staving off the tantrum so the big dumb brute could see his meal ticket running. “Ooooh there human. I get human!” It declared with overzealous victory. Stomping forward to shove aside any more trees that might be in its way. “Dinner tiiiime for meeeee! Come back human. Wanna play… wanna EAT!”
“DON’T get human!” Calia shrieked back. “LEAVE HUMAN ALONE!”
The fact she felt compelled to shout at these stupid demons was truly evidence of her insanity. Still, whatever elegance and control Calia usually had during heated battles was long gone now. One too many demons, too little rest, the woman was fighting for her life while on the brink! Quick enough to stay out of the way of big swings – something that big always had trouble with aim apparently – and then diving for her weapon when she’d made it back to the smoking, scattered bits of her fire.
Heaving more heavy breaths while the THUMP, THUMP, CRACK, THUMP of the demon’s footsteps and shoving through the trees made his approach very clear. Leaving Calia trying to think on how best to fell it, because she was running out of breath to keep charging through the forest like a dashing rabbit. Covered in even more blood as she was now thanks to those pecking, pesky bastards, she’d be easy to sniff out even if she found a hole to crawl in.
This one was much bigger than the ogre, but taking him out by the legs would not be as easy without Archimedes strength to make her swing cut deep. She also had a feeling this one was even less likely to want a nice little chat. Which meant she was going to have to be a menace herself. Prove that humans were not a fun thing to eat, because humans bite back.
Calia waited as still as a stone until those giant feet stomp, stomp, stomped their way to her meager campsite. The second that demon was close enough she took sword and stabbed it right down into the base of the giant idiot’s middle toe! With a shuddering crack and snap, the tip of her blade went right through meat and bone to the other side and off that toe went.
…then she ran like all hell! Following the path Mercy took, as she was not about to stick around and see what sort of tantrum followed next!
A tantrum was truly it! For that pain that went through the demon was one thing but to have lost its toe in a mighty cleave, the large bully toppled right over. Flatting out on his ass with foot coming up to be babied. Dropping the axe with a great rattle on the ground, screaming in deafening wails about how such a human had hurt him. Blood readily dripping from the digit and certainly about to call all sorts of terrible bastards to come join in the hunt that had the woman to be toe jam next time!
Although the lingering birds had apparently decided to help themselves to the toe. Swooping down to peck and pluck at the cut away piglet, only spurring the larger dumber demon to start swatting.
Yelling at birdies to stop taking his toe away and how they were pecking his head eventually. Working well to being that of a nice diversion for hopefully the young princess to escape less she find herself out of the cauldron and into the fire!
And people thought she was chaos incarnate. These damn demons.
Calia ran, and ran, and ran. On a good day it would’ve been a freeing joyous thing to just run through the forest! Now, her lungs burned, her muscles burned, her everything burned. Still she kept on running to get as far away from all that nonsense as she could. Ran until her booted feet hit water and then she paused, taking a quick moonlit glance and down the stream.
Most trackers went by foot and snapped twigs, demons would hunt by the scent of blood. A stream could help mask both if it were deep enough, and thankfully Calia knew every stream and river in her valley kingdom. Straying herself deeper into the water and then walking upstream. Here and there losing her footing to slip fully submerged in the water, which was chilly and uncomfortable with all of her armor on, but likely for the best.
The princess waded upstream until it widened out into a big natural pond, with a tumbling loud waterfall spray coming from the cliffside. Letting herself submerge fully into the icy water head to toe and swam for the falls itself. Ducking under the torrents of water to resurface on the other side where a hidden cave was shrouded by the curtain of white misty waters.
As Calia climbed out, gasping to catch her breath, she collapsed there on the wet moss covered stone. If there were any bears, wolves, or otherwise hiding in here, well they had a free dinner. The princess wouldn’t move again until long after sunrise.