Grief

Surfacing from a deep sleep—first the darkness of returning consciousness, then slowly self-awareness... and with that, the senses—hearing the soft breath of wind skimming over the nearby rooftops, noticing the night-time absence of city bustle, and feeling like she had managed to jam her body against every available nearby stony corner, Ash awoke. She groaned. Confused to find herself most emphatically not in her comfy bed, she blinked open her eyes—and became oddly transfixed by the simple dirty slate roof before her. It seemed like she could see every ridge, crinkle and scratch; every grain of dust; there were even some incredibly tiny crawly things she had never noticed before scrabbling in the dry mud. Shifting her right hand beneath her, the girl lifted herself up.

"Huh?" She shook her short-haired head, rubbed her eyes and blinked several times. Nothing changed. In fact, her right hand, in contact with the roof, seemed to feel an unbelievable amount of detail in the stone beneath it. She would even bet she could map it without much effort. Lifting the hand, she stared again, first at the tile that was underneath it, and then transferring her gaze to her palm—here, too, an incredible picture presented itself. And now, taking a calming breath through her nose, the smells-

You humans are strange.

"Ah!" She whipped around. "You! You're not dead? I saw your head get blown off!" The white creature from yesterday was sitting sedately on the same chimney she had used as a windbreak that night.

My body is just one part of me, losing it is not a major issue.

"Huh..." She stared. Now that she looked closer, it was not quite as cat-like as she had at first thought. The head was the wrong shape—wider, with no snout to speak of; and the tail was thick and fluffy, similar to a fox's. There was a neat red oval adorning its back, a smaller white patch in the middle, and of course, there were those bizarre ears. "What are you?"

Call me Inky.

"But... you're white."

Yes?

"Um, nevermind. So? What are you?"

The one who granted your wish. I'm here to help you. There wasn't time to explain earlier, but the contract has changed you. Perhaps you have already begun to notice?

"You still didn't answer my question," she pouted.

Inky stared. Persistent, aren't you. I'm an alien.

"Wow! And how are you talking like that?"

It's telepathy. You can do it too.

"Eh! I can?"

Yes, it's easy. Just do it, you don't need to think about it.

Like this? Oh! She frowned. "I think I like talking better."

Suit yourself. Now, as I was saying... Our contract has changed you. I should explain things.

"Is that why I can see so much more?"

Yes. Your senses have been greatly improved. Your body is faster, stronger, and heals much more quickly and completely. Ash brought a hand to her right shoulder, suddenly recalling the injury, and found only smooth skin through the torn shirt. She glanced down at herself—she was absolutely filthy, covered in dirt, grime, grease stains, soot from her job, dried blood from her wound, and dust that had blown over her as she slept. But there's a much more important change that we must talk about. Look at your left hand.

She did so. "A ring? Where did that come from?"

Do you remember the shining gem from the contract? It changed into that ring. Change it back.

"How? Ahh... oh, like this," with a flash, her soul gem materialised in the palm of her hand. It was a bright red, adorned with gold filigree and topped with a tiny golden heart. The jewel's surface was marred by blotches of black. "It's... cute," she said with a distasteful expression.

You dislike the sight of it because it is currently unhealthy. You need to refresh yourself. That gem—your soul gem—is a vital part of you now. You must take good care of it. Stand up.

She stood.

Now, don't think, just do—I want you to transform.

She transformed.

A burst of red light, and her clothes disappeared—replaced momentarily by the strange scarlet iridesence she had last seen on her gem, during the contract. Her arms and legs were then wrapped messily in tight red ribbons—from just above her elbows and knees, down to her fingers and toes—before simple, brown leathery pumps and fingerless, open-backed gloves materialised out of the glow. The ribbons coiled into cute bows on the backs of her hands and feet. A loose, pleated brown skirt, stopping some distance above the knee, hemmed and belted with white, and a silver heart buckle. A long, sleeveless red top—or perhaps a very short dress—all straight lines and flat panels, white hem, the lower half stitched with white embroidery, another ribbon bow centred below her collar bone. One final pretty red ribbon appearing in her hair, on the left. Lastly, her faceted red heart-shaped gem set itself in the hollow of her throat.

She stared down at herself, momentarily speechless. It was nice to have a fresh change of clothes all of a sudden, but...

"Ew ew ewwww!" she suddenly exclaimed, "it's so girly!"

You are a girl.

She pinned Inky with an incredulous stare.

I don't understand. A girl's costume is generated by her own aesthetics. There has never been a case where someone has been disgusted by their transformation before.

A slow blush coloured her cheeks, "well, well, there's no way I can show myself like this in front of Lily-" a gasp, face now paling rapidly, "Lily! Is she safe? Where is she!?"

Jumping to stand before her, Calm down. She's at home, asleep. Safe. Wishes are powerful things.

Ash slowly loosened her muscles, sighing in relief. "That's... good."

Yes. You can be happy. But, there is a pressing matter to attend to. Your soul gem is tainted from the effort of healing your injury. You must cleanse it. There is only one method for this, and it carries great risk. Inky took a few steps away from her, before sitting once more and looking back over its shoulder, However, the risk of leaving your gem to fester is even greater. Think of it like a new hunger—it must be satiated, or you will starve.

"Would I die? If I never, uhm, satiated the hunger?"

Inky watched her face for a moment. She did not look especially worried, only intent. Focussed.

Yes. And the longer you leave it, the weaker and more discouraged you will feel. It is best to keep your gem as clean as possible at all times—in that respect, it differs from your stomach's hunger. Show me your weapon.

She blinked, then glanced down at her hands. With barely a thought, the girl summoned a pair of smoothly ridged brass knuckles, each fitted perfectly to her fingers. Tens of tiny, chaotically engraved hearts scarred their shiny yellow surface. She grinned.

Hmm. An in-fighter. Inky trotted briskly away, hopping a gap to another roof, Come with me. We're going hunting.

Looking up in surprise, she chased after it.


"What are we looking for?" Ash asked as she jogged steadily after the quick white creature. They were no longer hopping from roof to roof, instead they had taken to dark alleyways and crooked side-streets, heading for the deeper slums.

Demons. You will know when they are near... but we must be careful, as you are alone and new to this. We will attempt to keep clear of any large groups—they would kill you without much trouble.

"Demons?! There isn't anything like that on Eden..."

Non-contractees cannot detect or percieve them by any method.

"Oh. That's... weird, isn't it?" she frowned.

Such is the nature of magic.

"Magic!" Her eyes widened. Well, what else could it be? she thought, I even had a wish granted!

Yes, magic. In fact, contractees are also known by the name, "Magical Girls". You are now a mage, capable of your own feats of magic.

"Huh." They ran in silence for a short while, passing a hovering police droid that failed to notice them entirely, and before long, Ash felt a strange nagging unpleasantness, a premonition of danger. It steadily grew more urgent. "Uhm..."

You feel it? Good. That is the presence of demons. We don't need to worry too much yet—we can observe them from a distance. This group is, however, not one we want to engage. So hide yourself.

Inky leapt onto a rusting, decommissioned railcar, and then onto the roof of the yawning, empty building it was leaning against. Come on. We can watch them from up here.

She hopped straight on top of the building, exhilarating in her new mobility—

I said hide yourself!

"Oh, woops, sorry," an embarrassed smile.

—and crouched down beside Inky. The white alien walked up the sloping roof, then pointed with its tail towards the peak. She followed, crawling a little awkwardly, still unused to wearing a skirt. Lips set in a serious line, she peered over the rim. In the distance, far enough that—pre-contract—she would not have stood a chance of seeing even in full daylight, several tall, humanoid shapes in flowing robes floated aimlessly. There was something odd about their backs.

I imagine you can't see them too well from here. Regrettably, this is as close as we can safely get. It is a pity we don't have access to a bioenhancement centre...

"Huh?" Ash frowned at Inky's odd comment, but let it pass, "what are they doing? There aren't very many..."

The ones you see are the few who have already finished their feeding for tonight. The rest of them, I estimate over thirty, are still in the buildings below.

"Feeding...? That sounds creepy," she looked over at Inky, who had not even once glanced in the direction of the demons, spending the entire time studying Ash.

Yes. Inky finally turned its head to look over at the haunting figures. They are unpleasant beings. They feed on human lives, sometimes spending many nights on the same prey, who steadily becomes more drained, tired and faded. They kill the ones they're finished with.

Ash paled, "that's, that's horrible! I can't just-"

You can and you must. The creature interrupted, turning its head to stare once again at Ash, even if you were an older mage—with a decade of combat experience under your belt—you would have trouble with more than fifteen demons at once. Thirty is simply impossible, for you now. You would die, and achieve nothing. When facing an enemy as vast as this—an entire city's worth of demons—you must choose your battles carefully, and whittle away at your opponent while you become stronger. Do not allow your immediate compassion to get in the way of your reason.

They stared at one another, Ash's eyes very wide. After a moment, Ash lowered her gaze submissively. "Ok... Lily always says I need to think before I do things. This is one of those times, right?"

It is. Lily sounds like a clever girl. I am relieved that you are wise enough to know when to accept advice. You have no idea how much trouble it is keeping an impulsive fool from getting herself killed.

Inky turned and trotted back down the roof, then hopped down to the street below, Come, I can sense a smaller group from here.

"I don't feel anything..." she stepped off the building, landing in a boyish crouch—suddenly straightening, patting at her skirt with a slight blush—then took off after Inky, who had already moved on down a shadowy street. She had no trouble following the white shape with her new eyes.

You'll get better with time and experience.


After a short while, they stopped running by a rusting corrugated warehouse, now well into one of the poorest areas of the inner city—far from any noble mansions. This place was sparsely inhabitated, formed primarily of junkyards and abandonned storehouses. There was little surveillance here, but the occasional police sweep kept most squatters away. A nearby lonely streetlight split the world between yellow and black. The pressure of imminent disaster was now bearing heavily down on Ash, as she nervously glanced at the many dark paths leading away from the lit circle. Inky sat just outside the immediate ring of light, in the darkness that shared the creature's name, watching her.

Prepare yourself.

Ash swallowed, mouth gone dry, the back of her neck prickling. Her eyes flicked from dark alleyway to dark corner to cloudy night sky, hands clenching and unclenching around the brass knuckle grips. She shuffled her feet, scraping pebbles loosely scattered on the dry dirt floor, the noise scratching jarringly in the oppressive quiet. She swallowed again, and—a cold shiver down her spine—fast as a blink, facing the warehouse wall—the blank wall, door shut, but she knew, she somehow knew that behind it—a looming pale figure, fading silently through the wall like it wasn't there—humanoid, at least eleven feet tall, with chalk-white skin and swathed in loose white cloth. The face shadowed dark, as though lit from the back—but there was no light coming from the strange, glassy, segmented halo that floated behind its head, nor the oddly metallic feathers that covered its sweeping wingspan.

An angel, she thought, frozen in terrified awe. It seemed to focus its attention on her, and her sense of danger grew unbearable. She threw herself to the side, feet shifting to keep balance with a poise she had never felt before—and stared as a sizzling white line passed through the spot she had been standing. In the corner of her eye, she saw another tall form floating towards the light from an alleyway opposite the warehouse. The first demon turned to face her again, moving as though underwater.

Threat, intensifying.

She felt it coming, knowing what to expect this time. Gritting her teeth in a hard grin, she set her feet and swung. Yellow brass smashed the white beam, scattering trails on odd curving trajectories. Kicking the ground hard, she ducked her head and charged just as a second laser seared the air behind her, coming from the new arrival.

Feet thundering on the packed ground, three, four steps, she lunged—a moment of peace in the air—centred her magic, left hand grabbing a fistful of cloth, and thrust, slamming her fist into the breastbone of her prey. A satisfying crack, a pulse of shock—ruffling her ribbons—and the demon was blown backwards, though it remained upright. She landed lightly, immediately breaking to the right, grazing yet another bright beam from the second demon. Curving her path, she rounded on the stunned angelic figure, gathering herself for another jump.

With a leap—determined to end this pale ghost—she landed gracefully on its shoulder, and swung her right again, smashing through the irregular segments of its halo, rattling its skull. Even from this distance, she could make out no details on its face. She leapt high off the shoulder, landing on the flat warehouse roof, and turned back, ducking, then lying flat, just in case. From the other side of the small plot of land, where the second demon had come, there were two more advancing towards the fight.

The first was now writhing, the cloth twisting erratically, the whole thing decaying—shattering—into glitchy pieces. The pieces seemed to collapse into themselves, some of them condensing into small black cubes that landed, rolling on the floor like dice. Is that halo thing their weak spot? she sent this curious thought to Inky, who was nowhere to be seen. Probably watching me again, the girl thought, to herself this time, maybe I can impress him!

Not particularly, the alien replied, but a pair of strikes like that, especially to the head, is usually too much for them.

She nodded to herself, and turned her attention back to the three other demons. They were clumped together somewhat, and had stopped moving quite some distance from the circle of light cast by the lamppost, wings folded. Their heads were pointing in her direction.

She knew what to do.

Flicking herself over the edge of the roof, she landed with barely a knee bent and sprinted towards the group of demons at an angle. Sensing the lasers as they fired, she switched directions accordingly, occasionally ducking or, once, blocking painfully with a magically guarded fist. Her feet slid in broken arcs, alternately halting or shifting direction as she twisted and dodged. Her skirt swished this way and that, and her ribbons were pulled hither and thither by the rushing air.

She closed the last few metres going in low, then pounced up into the air, now face to face with one of the three. The other two hesitated, unwilling to risk hitting the first. She slapped her left palm to its large forehead, gripping tightly. Its skin felt strangely smokey, insubstantial under her fingers, even while the head as a whole felt very solid indeed. Concentrating briefly, she materialised a string, tied around her middle finger and connected to the wraith's forehead. It was taut, but its length changed freely. She pushed off its head, landed, and promptly resumed her sprinting evasion, curling her trajectory around the group, preparing to strike the closest one. The demon she had planted a string on whirled with typical slow grace, turning to face her, and turning on, until it was pointed towards the last of the group.

Its searing light lanced out, piercing the head of the third demon—just as Ash batted aside one final laser with her left brass, lunged forward and pounded once, twice, thrice on the chest of her target, crunching metal against bony flesh, then grasped the white robe and heaved herself up, offering one final punch to the nose, charged with magic, thudding the air and snapping its neck.

Dropping to the ground, Ash breathed slowly in, and let out a sigh. She rubbed her sore right hand, burned slightly by her clumsy block earlier. The ribbons on the back were frayed and charred, the bow missing. She felt a little sad about that.

Inky was approaching, the intense fight now over, trotting without a care. She looked to the last remaining demon. It was looking at back her, relaxed. Concentrating carefully now, straining, she built up her power and sent a killing charge down the string. The pale angel jerked tight, shivering slightly, feathers rustling like foil, then collapsed in the demon's characteristic fashion, whirling into a pair of black shards. The string vanished.

Very well done, Ash.

She beamed.

You show promise. We can talk about that power of yours later—I expected something similar, but am still curious about the particulars. Inky hopped up onto her shoulder, making her flinch slightly before relaxing, For now, you need to collect the cubes those demons left behind. Those are what this whole effort was for.

"What are they?" she asked curiously, wandering over to the seven that the trio of demons had left behind. She picked one up, examining it carefully. It was sheer black, smooth—a perfect cube—but otherwise unremarkable. It could have been made of polished obsidian.

Grief cubes, Inky answered, they are currently empty.

"That's a creepy name," she picked up another two, "what do you mean by empty?"

Inky rested on her shoulder as she gathered the remaining four cubes, waving its tail softly. Ash straightened, then turned to look for the cubes the very first demon had left behind—her sharp eyes had no trouble picking them out, despite their small size, smaller than a fingertip. She strolled over to pick them up.

The alien finally replied, You'll see. Ash reached the last two cubes, and crouched to collect them.


"Ok, so what do I do?" she asked.

Let's get on top of a roof, this will take a little while—and we don't want anyone interrupting.

"Alright. What would have happened if someone came while I was fighting?"

Not possible. The demons create a barrier of sorts, called the miasma, that separates the space they're in from the real world. Mages can enter it without any trouble, though.

"I didn't notice anything like that," she mentioned, slightly confused. Reaching the warehouse again, she clambered up, oddly disinclined to make it in one jump. Am I tired? she wondered.

Well, a mere four demons won't make a very impressive miasma, but it should still be enough to keep normal humans out. Now then. Sit down and put your gem on the roof. She did so. Now put some of the grief cubes down near it, and watch. I suggest six.

She scattered six of the cubes over the gem, keeping three, watching as they rolled to a stop at various distances from her heart-shaped jewel. Inky jumped off her shoulder to lay down a short distance away. Then, from her gem, trails of darkness seemed to crawl across the ground towards the cubes. Her eyes widened. The stains marring her soul gem's crystalline surface were slowly drawn to the edges, and as she stared, they appeared to be sucked off entirely, pulsing down the trails. Besides the stains, the visible red surface was also growing brighter, clearer. The young girl felt refreshed, healthy, and realised just how fatigued she had been mere moments ago. Catching movement in the corner of her eye, she glanced at her right hand—and watched in amazement as the ribbon repaired itself and retied itself into a bow.

Happily, "it fixed itself!" she showed Inky, smiling brightly, "the ribbon, I mean." Her hand was no longer aching, too.

Indeed. Your mage outfit is a magical construct, formed directly from your magic. It cannot suffer permanent damage, to my knowledge. Nor does it need cleaning.

"Ohh, that's handy," she turned to look again at her gem, and noticed—"the grief cubes... they look different. Darker, but they were already black..."

That's right, they are fuller now. They have absorbed the grief that was tainting your gem. Magic is not free—its price is your happiness.

"What!" she gasped, "that's scary... is it really safe?"

You should have realised by now that nothing about magic is safe. But don't worry, it's nothing permanent. It doesn't alter your fate, like a wish—it only affects your emotions directly. As long as you keep a level head, it shouldn't bother you much. Inky stood up, and padded over to the now frighteningly dark grief cubes—like holes in the night. Now for the final part of our contract. This is what I get in the agreement. The red eyes turned to meet Ash's. Throw those full cubes to me.

She blinked in surprise, but did as she was asked, scooping up the cubes and tossing them to Inky. Amazement shone in her face as the alien's mouth—the red circle on its back—lifted open, revealing a disconcertingly black interior, and caught the cubes.

Your grief will be used to help save the universe. It's a good deal for us both, don't you think?

"Save the universe from what?" she wondered, now well and truly impressed.

Its otherwise inevitable end. The amount of usable energy in the universe—the fuel of all life, change, and everything interesting—is steadily decreasing. With grief cubes and magic, we can hold back the loss of available energy—even reverse it.

Ash made a thoughtful noise in reply, then looked at the sky. She could see the faint light of dawn lifting the edge of the night, and smiled at the sight.

"Are we finished for now? Lily will wake up soon, and I want to go and see her."

We have taken care of everything urgent, yes. May I accompany you?

Ash looked at the furry white creature in surprise. "Of course! I already thought you were coming."


Note: Update speed is going to be irregular while I find my pace... but I anticipate settling somewhere between weekly and fortnightly. We'll see.