· · · · · · ·
Belphegor slipped back into the underground, careful with her backpack. The child had taken a while, clearly tired, but nothing of her things were damaged. She unpacked as quickly as she could while trying to sort out what had just happened.
The rag demon had been injured by the telltale wounds of those armed with the infernal green rocks — blood seeping through clothing despite the lack of cuts. Charioce had designed the magic to make skin tears, burst and even melt. She could only imagine what he must look like below those rags. The idea to return to the little zombie doctor and check up already had to be dismissed; Belphegor had to retrieve the rest of her tools before trash was clear at dawn. She would not be able to do anything for him anyway, except perhaps pay the doctor, but that could be done later.
Once the backpack was empty, she darted out again. At the last door, she met Dante and Eligos just as they returned. They had two strangers with them, indicating a recruiting gone well.
"Belphegor, the guards said you too much longer to return this time. Something happen?" Dante asked.
"I ran into an injured demon and helped him. I'll tell you the rest later," she said. Eligos already had the sparkle of interest in his eyes are a new potential recruit, if she told him about the rag demon now he wouldn't let her go until she'd gotten them to meet.
She made her way back up the nearest stairs as quickly as she could, only to stop when she heard noises. Typically demons only went up the stairs for the rare places they were allowed to work, and that was never at night.
A group of about four came down, carrying with them the scent of blood and the radiance of slave collars. First she saw a woman covered in cut wounds and with slave collar on her neck, who froze when she noticed Belphegor.
Belphegor held up her hands. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. How did you escape?"
She nodded. "The rag demon killed our master. We had to go here, he said."
Belphegor felt a smile creep on her face at the mentioned of their savior. "If you need to hide, come into the underground. The trackers won't ..."
The front woman shook her head, putting a finger on her mouth and nodding back.
Now Belphegor saw the others. Three more demons come down the stairs and at the top stood ... what ... who?
He didn't notice her as he helped the last of the women step over the rocky entrance of the stairs.
What on earth was the captain of the Orleans Knights doing here? She'd only seen him briefly before, but there was no mistaking him. Not with that hair and the silver pins in it.
"Careful now," he said as the woman let go of his hand. One of the others caught her as she staggered on the uneven steps. The scene was altogether the height of absurdity, when this man had guarded and perpetrated the their enemy's system for so long.
"What's he doing here?" Belphegor whispered to the first woman, unable to keep the hiss out of her voice.
"The rag demon made him escort us. There were other knights he had to deal with, I think. The rag demon, I mean."
Oh, that made sense. Naturally that coward would be afraid of someone so powerful. Kaisar Lidfard had a reputation of rule book dog, always surrounded by his knights. He might crack alone. Still, that raised so many questions. Why had he been alone? Was this a trap to see where they'd be taken?
The captain noticed her now, eyes squinting against the dark.
"Miss? Could you perhaps take care of these ladies further? I'm afraid I don't know my way around the slums, and they would prefer not see me down there anyway." Hell, he sounded so deceptively courteous.
"Yes, I can. Better than you, captain," she spat.
His eyes widened a little, but she didn't care to find out whether he'd recognized her voice.
"Follow me, please. Your wounds have to be tended to and there's a good doctor here." She'd just dig into her pocket a little if she had to cover multiple doctor bills. She could sell something, perhaps. There was plenty yet in the junk she would retrieve that was worth a little.
· · · · · · ·
"The holy child appeared to save him."
The rag demon, saved by the holy child? Charioce had defied heaven and hell, now heaven and hell allied against him. What next, the denizens of earth too?
Perhaps that dragon counted as much for that already.
It didn't matter, he would bring them all down until only one woman was standing. Given her resolve, even then she would not bow. For now, he'd see whether he could at least get the rag demon on his knees, and perhaps in the same breath lure in both the holy child and the dragon.
· · · · · · ·
Rita's table and morning sunlight shouldn't feel familiar to a denizen of hell. For him, familiarity had been centuries of a castle, throne, stellar food and a torture hall. How quickly that had all gone.
"Why was I saved?" he asked.
"I can only presume someone liked you. As for how, Mugaro called over a bypassing demon who passed by brought you here, you were already passed out," Rita said. "You know, if you're keeping up the frequency you occupy my table, I suppose I should set up a separate bed somewhere."
"I can take the floor."
"You can take the floor in the side room once I get a bed there. Stay here for now, I'm taking those appointments outside."
She left.
Mugaro lay asleep on the couch to his left, peaceful and tucked under his coat.
Maybe he had done something ... "Nah, ridiculous."
If Mugaro had any kind of power beyond his passive death kiss, he'd have escaped on his own, right?
Azazel had found him in a slaver's den. After slaughtering all the humans, he'd waited for the demon children to get out. Just as he'd walked away, someone has grabbed his cloak. Mugaro had been on the ground, unable to walk or talk, clutching his cloak. He was weaker than any of the others, on the brink of death.
Yet he'd managed to smile at Azazel.
He'd taken him along, which wasn't unusual in itself — not by that time anymore, at least — and brought him to Rita. That would've been it, but it wasn't.
The door opened, but it wasn't Rita. In came a demon lady with dark purple hair, long brown horns on her forehead and ears to match.
"Well met. I am Belphegor, lord Azazel," she said. "Miss Rita was kind enough to let me see you."
"Hmmph."
"I wished to thank you for saving us the other night. Honestly, I'm so surprised to learn it was you."
"Don't tell anyone I'm the rag demon, got it?"
"If you do not wish so, I won't." A silence fell that he didn't fill. "Begging your pardon, why do you do this? Would it not be better to join the rebellion?"
He looked at her now, finding adoration and slight confusion on her face.
"And hang out underground, doing almost nothing? I'm sending a message," he said. Until he got that dragon on his side. "Why were you in the city tonight?"
"To retrieve some of my things. I won't go back to the red light distract." She paused and bit her lip. "May I ask, ... last night ... did you send the captain of the knights to escort those women?"
"Ha. Sounds like he finally made himself useful."
"You really know him?"
"Indeed. I got him and his friend's lousy father on their way to the grave," he said. "The Orleans captain is pathetic, but if you play him right he can be useful. Or entertaining."
"Oh."
Her look faltered a little, but the smile returned soon. Sometime in the past years, by need through Mugaro, Azazel had learned to read expressions far better. Just not what was behind them, exactly. What bothered her he could not guess, and it occurred to him demons might be as much of a curiosity as humans alone had once seemed.
His other mystery stirred under the coat.
"If you're staying, get some hot milk for Mugaro. He'll wake up soon."
She looked stunned for a second, during which Azazel felt the pride of hell sink. Him, attached to a nobody child? He couldn't even resent that fact. Mugaro was the one good thing to enter his life since the fall of Cocytus.
This time Belphegor smiled brighter. "Of course, gladly, lord Azazel."
Oh, no this one was going to stick around too, wasn't she? Like he needed more attachments? It wasn't even Mugaro alone. He was on working terms with Rita, Kaisar for some ungodly reason cared for his survival, and now he had a medium tier demon getting sappy on him for distinctly undemonic reasons. He could already imagine the inevitable anecdotes in Lucifer's personal records.
· · · · · · ·
"Good day, Marcio, and to you too, Emeline! Marcio, may I have a bag of cinnamon rolls, please? Make it twelve."
"Sure thing, Nina. You don't normally drop by at this time," Marcio said as he handed her the bag. "Celebrating something?"
"No, it's more like an apology gift," she said with a grin. "I was a bit rude about something."
"You? I can't imagine."
She could, now.
There was a graveyard of the poor shortly outside the slums. As Nina passed by, she spotted a wailing line of people. They gathered around a cheap coffin as it was lowered into the ground. On the surface lay a flag with unicorn emblem.
The man had been a knight. If he had died recently, it may just have been her doing. She swallowed a lump.
A little girl stood there, sobbing quietly. Nina's hearing was sharper than a human's, she could pick up the words. "Daddy, come back."
Nina's heart seemed to freeze and in flooded a memory.
Bahamut towering in the distance sky, all the rains of fire to the earth as thousands died. In her worst nightmares, she was the dragon.
She had been the dragon who incinerated just last night.
The girl sobbed for her father again.
The pulse in her body thickened. Too late. Unlike arousal, distraction didn't cancel this kind. The muscles tensed under her skin involuntarily and the early drops of fire filled her veins.
She ran off, straight into the bushes.
Her head started to hurt as the pink glow crawled out of her skin. Horns broke and the haze in her mind threatened to take over. She would've dropped the bag she clutched in her arms, but didn't want to risk flaring out her transformation too soon. The nails in her skin were just a little of a distraction, almost drawing blood.
When would the bushes end? More, more, ... more ... she collided with a wall, made a dent in it, and half broke it as she plowed on. She was taller already, and her skin began to sliver.
There was the river at last.
In the final stage the power negated her weight — an necesary superpower to prevent implosion of the shapeshifting bones — and she could jump as far as she wanted.
Pink engulfed her, and that was the last she remembered of the day.
· · · · · · ·
The water was restless today, Charioce noted with the same detachment as he took in everything. Last times it had been restless, his little project had been the cause. He'd have to ask about it's status again, even as knowing did little. It was for the better though. He'd have a concrete reason to visit the island.
This day, the warrior in gold was not here. Charioce descended the stairway into the dungeon alone.
As always, Jeanne was on her knees in prayer. She hadn't grown tinner anymore, her limits of this life reached months ago.
"You look rather worn out. Well?"
No reply.
"Have you reconsidered on aiding me in conquering the demon kings and battling the gods?
Nothing.
"Today too, I do not receive a good answer. Unfortunate."
He turned away, but paused. "By the way, your child is still alive."
Still she would not stir.
"Good thinking on your behalf, to hide him with the enslaved demons."
The slightest twitch in her hands and lips satisfied him, and he looked away.
"Condemning your own child to slavery, what a brutal mother you too are."
Her eyes shot open, wine red and intense as they bore into him. He lost composure, drawn back to her. Ever defiant. He would love her for it, if only she directed this as the gods rather than him. It elluded him why she still prayed after they'd abandoned her.
"I shall kill your child, but you will see him one more time." He turned away. "Wait for it, saint Jeanne d'Arc."
He did understand that threatening a mother with the death of her child would not achieve anything. Not at once, but one day, there would be a time she would have to choose the world, regardless of what blood he spilled.
· · · · · · ·
"As you wish."
Even if Sofiel were to ascend to one of the empty thrones, she suspected Gabriel she would be saying those words to Gabriel forever.
Once Gabriel had ruled with three others, Michael, Uriel, Raphael. Now, Sofiel was the only candicate to join the ring of four great angels. Gabriel was extremely cautious with whom she approved of, and while Sofiel had some pride in being the sole one found worthy, it also worried her. Heaven would recover from neither Bahamut nor the raids of Charioce XVII if there wasn't better organization soon.
They had one more candidate in mind, though. Not for wisdom, but for the qualification of his power, the very power they had sensed break free last night. Now it had vanished again, but it had confirmed the child was alive.
Sofiel had been tending to the ambrosia harvest ritual when she had sensed it, as had most others in heaven. The radiation had been so strong, even lesser gods handpicked up. As a consequences, the usually empty streets buzzed with so much noise, one much mistake it for the days before Bahamut's terror. She'd dropped everything, sped to Gabriel, and received the expected orders.
Further instructions were less ... overt. Silently understood. The promise went out that heaven might throw off the blood reign of Charioce XVII with this child was widely promised, while behind the walls Gabriel spoke often of restoring humankind's subservience to the gods. Nobody was supposed to ask why their salvation had been born from discarded Jeanne d'Arc and not anyone in heaven. Michael's favor, perhaps, but Gabriel had little care.
Sofiel had her two most trusted servants called for, gave assignments to prepare for the mission, and then slipped away to the Elysian Fields.
Here lay many a hidden corner, one of them a small shrine with ringed wards. It did not look very important from the outside and most knew it only as the home of a machine tenant. Those privy to the secrets of the higher rings knew it as the home of heaven's prophet. The Magedatidot was of the very few souls in the world who could sense the tremors of fate, that which none knew was being, force, or motion. An erratic master either way, most of the time the Magedatidot spoke of things none could find relevance in.
The Magedatidot's prophecy only truly helped if the events were of a scale so large, there was uniform response to be witnessed, such as the revival of Bahamut. Charioce's arising had also been indicated, but it had started to weak, and too vague, for them to make sense of it.
Still, visiting the demure angel had a certain allure, and there was always the promise that ve knew more. No visit ever passed that ve had not expected, after all.
Except today. For the first time Sofiel had visited vun, ve sat not in the foyer with ambrosia ready, but at the edge of the roof. Ve stared at the sky, frowning.
Up there on the white dome, ve seemed very small in vun ornate dress, almost childish now ve had cut vun hair short again. Sofiel flew up.
"I greet you, blessed one." Sofiel knelt at vun side, foregoing station. "I have been tasked to find the holy child who shall be our salvation. What does the future reflect on me?"
The Magedatidot looked at her with hazy eyes. "The right kind of traitors. Aaah, yes, that's a way to say it. They're everywhere. Know them as your allies."
Useless nonsense, once again.
Today was just as useless. How could there be a right kind of traitor?
The Magedatidot put a finger over vun mouth. "Shhh, it's alright, I won't betray." Ve bowed before flying away into the forest.
Sofiel couldn't shake the uneasy feeling she was left with, but she had become an expert at folding it in a little mental box and ignoring it.
· · · · · · ·
Nina woke up shivering on the river bank, cold under the night sky. Instinct urged her to move, she wasn't made for this.
She drew her legs out of the water, wishing for the ability to breathe fire right now. Crawling further up the bank, she forced herself on her feet.
The city was nowhere in sight. In the dark it was difficult to see whether there were any scorch marks on the river side. Hopefully all her dragon self had done was swim around and have some fun.
Memories returned of just before the transformation, bringing along fresh tears. Her shoulders began to shake as a mix of of memories of her father and the rising guilt for the people she'd killed mingled.
She did understand it had been self defense, intellectually. According to her mother, the villagers and even Favaro, her dragon self didn't hurt people she didn't want to hurt.
That did exactly nothing about the guilt. She'd still chosen to come here, knowing how dangerous she was. If only she could think like a person in her dragon form, maybe they wouldn't have had to die.
No, she shouldn't get upset about this. She might just promptly turn back again, if she got too unstable again.
It was safe when she was happy and steady. Sudden bursts of specific kind of emotion triggered it. Slow build of, regular sorrow or anything like that didn't do it. She didn't really know the rhyme or reason, though. Shock, trauma flashbacks, arousal, sudden bursts of adrenaline. Basically any kind of reaction that severely impacted the ability to reason, so regular joy, sorrow and anger didn't do it.
Sometimes it was simple, unexpected thoughts that could trigger it. Never thought she chose to have, just thoughts, like that split second that connected herself to Bahamut, when the thought came to her mind of herself as the monstrosity that killed her father.
She staggered on the rough rocks. It was going to be a long walk back, and a lot of effort to keep her thoughts happy. Focus on how she could get a good bed and sleep at the end. The odds of turning dragon again weren't the same, but they were odds still.
· · · · · · ·
Only a day had passed and Azazel was up on his feet already, despite Rita's protests. Now he dragged himself through the streets on his unstable leg, insisting he was fine. El knew he wasn't, and so did Azazel. He was just having one of those stubborn moments. He had those at times. Sometimes a lot. Maybe his whole life was a stubborn moment.
His gait drew attention, which set El on edge. The thick cloak and hat hid some of his paleness, but nobody would be fooled he was anything but a demon up close, while El could easily pass for a human as long as he kept his red eye hidden. Still, they found Bacchus's carriage without any city guards stopping them.
Nearing the holy carriage always was strangely appealing, but it was uncomfortable for Azazel, so El didn't make a habit of coming here.
Azazel bonked on the door, only for nobody to open. No surprise, it was the break of dawn and the gods drank late. Azazel stuck one of claws into the lock, which sparked with holy power in protest, but eventually gave way.
Bacchus and Hamsa lay knocked out with wine bottles a on the head couch, while Nina was under a blanket on the couch opposite to the door.
"Hey, get up!"
Nina groaned, turned over, saw them and squeaked. Her face turned beet red as she vanished deeper under the blankets. "Good morning. I didn't know you had a key to this place. Uhm, I sleep here now. Can you step out while I get dressed?"
"Do you have any idea how suspicious it's going to look if a demon hangs around a fancy carriage?"
"Oh ... I guess that's so. But it's really weird talking like this."
El gave Azazel the come on its just a small thing pretty please do it smile, tapping his back. Azazel huffed, turned around and stretched out his wing between Nina and the drunk gods.
While Nina got dressed, El poked at Hamsa and Bacchus. He wanted to know whether they'd sensed his power before, the way he could sense the presence of gods too. They were drunk enough for a little test to be safe, right?
Just a small jolt of power made Hamsa startle awake, but then only ruffled his feathers and didn't focus on El. Similar lack of response came from Bacchus. Good. The demonic veil kept him hidden enough.
"You can wake people?" Azazel asked.
Nina peered over his wing now. "Oooh, you should come by more often. Bacchus and Hamsa are so often knocked out, it can't be healthy."
"They're gods, they can't get ill from mortal food." Noting Nina had finished dressing, he withdrew his wing.
"We can get ill from goddamn demons breaking into our place. The hell are you doing here?" Bacchus groaned as he forced his eyes open.
"I'm here to get Nina. I need her."
Nina got red again, to El's amusement.
"Who'd you think you are?" Bacchus muttered, struggling to get on his feet. "Breaking in here and needing our Nina."
"I tried to to tell you before that I can't just—" Nina sputtered before he cut in.
"Why not? We're not swimming in eternity here."
Hamsa jumped between them, quacking loud. "Hey hey, Azazel. You can't just go pressure a girl into doing things that she doesn't want."
"Nonsense, she wants this too. I saw her yesterday, she does care."
"Stop talking so weird!" Nina was practically steaming in her skin. It wasn't just embarassment this time, but also anger.
Before Azazel could yell more, El put his hands around Azazel's arm and gave a pleading look. Azazel relented just a bit, setting back on the couch opposite of Nina's. He crossed his arms and glared.
"Y'know, we can do this better." Nina stood before him, eyes averted still, and held out her hand. "I'm Nina Drango, mostly nice to meet you, and thank you for saving my life."
Azazel just stared at her hand. "What are you doing? We already met."
"I know, but it was a bad meeting and we didn't have a formal introduction." Nina took his hand when he didn't offer it — she was strong enough to pry it loose — and shook it so enthusiastically Azazel bounced in his seat. El had to chuckle at the sight of Azazel's brief shock.
Nina let go and plopped herself on the opposite bench. "So anyway, I'd love to join you, but as I was trying to say before you started yelling, I can't. There are uh ... really specific conditions to my transformation."
"What exactly are you talking about?" Bacchus blurted. "Join you for what?"
"Killing Charioce," Azazel said.
"How the hell is she even gonna do that? Pound on him? Beam him to death with smiling?"
"I was thinking about her turning into a dragon and chomping down," Azazel said.
"No, seriously, Nina may be strong for a young woman but that's ridiculous."
"Uh ..." Nina raised a hand. "I actually am in fact a dragon. Part anyway."
Bacchus spat out his wine, while Hamsa tapped his beak with a wing. "A dragon in human shape? That sounds kinda familiar ..."
"Why didn't you tell us, Nina?" Bacchus asked. "Seems pretty relevant if you're gonna live here."
"Well, I don't have to tell you everything. You didn't tell me the rag demon was a good guy!"
A succinct silence well before Bacchus said, "Nah, he's scum."
Azazel sneered, but kept his tongue.
"You're scum, and you're not going to send Nina against the damn green shit when she has no idea whether she can stand up to that. Get out," Bacchus said. El slightly regretted waking him this much.
Azazel narrowed his eyes, but Nina still looked away and wouldn't respond.
"Tch." And so, they left the carriage. El could only hope next time would go better.
Azazel's leg still wasn't entirely right, and El wasn't the only one who noticed. Nina followed them out. Just as Azazel staggered again, Nina slipped below his arm and helped him stay steady.
Azazel tried to pull away. "What are you doing?"
"I can't help you as a dragon, but I can help like this," Nina said.
"That's not the kind of help I need," he grumbled. He shoved her away. El gave her a smile he hoped would indicate he at least was grateful for her care.
Azazel ought to take notice that Nina really wanted to help. Maybe they could work something out with more talking. Oh, how he wished he could speak again.
· · · · · · ·
Nina had to fight against the lack of enough sleep by means of an extra large breakfast. It made her a little late, but today it didn't matter much. Work on the building was postponed for an extra commission, for which they had to prepare still.
Nina's missed day was met with discontent, but not so much the kind that got her fired as much as them really missing her super strength. Especially not today. The special commission was to fix one of the ruined buildings from the hunt on the rag demon. They'd be paid well if they got it done in time.
Carts had gathered and all human workers were allowed to get on, while the demons walked behind.
So, Nina found herself before the tower where she had nearly died.
"The Orleans Knights tried to arrest one of his associates, but the rag demon grew wings and blew up the tower in an effort to hurt the wyvern riders," Anton said when he caught Nina staring. "Surely you heard of it?"
"Oh, of course. I was just ... wondering at how much strength he must have, to be able to blow up a tower so much it'd hurt those riders. They're pretty fast." As much
"Well, the rag demon is a very dangerous demon. Wings, a dragon, explosions ... who knows what other powers he has hidden?"
Somewhere behind them, a demon muttered something about turning those powers on Charioce.
"What was that?" Anton turned sharply, his previously kind face etched in loathing. Had he always been so hateful?
The demons shuffled on, none betraying who had spoken.
They were to climb the dangerous heights to lay down the framework for the humans to work on. Cleaning the debris was likewise their job, while the humans got the tidier work of building the walls itself. While they went ahead, the human group hung out at the bottom to chat, gossip and speculate. Any other day, Nina would have been at the noisy center,
She'd helped demons move things some time, when it sped things up, but she'd not really looked at them. She'd be a splatter on the ground if it hadn't been for a demon's mercy and a grinding shame filled her. She'd looked at this for so long and just not done anything. She hadn't even considered she had to do something.
The stories about the rag demon's irreparable evil had been wrong, so the same would be true for these people, right?
One of the demons stumbled as he climbed the tower stairs. The overseer's whip slashed at his back, and the sound echoed through the walls.
"Get off!" he barked when the demon behind the fallen one tried to help out. "He has to do it alone or he's not worth the keep."
Nobody did anything. Anton, Gosing and Patrick chatted about the latter's oncoming wedding. A little further someone discussed mortar make up. Between the words mingled the sound of the whip and the whimpers of its victim. His foot stood at an odd angle, he wouldn't be able to stand.
Nina moved into the tower. The overseer was Javier, whom she'd known only as a good natured if distant man. She ripped the whip from his hands.
Baffled, Javier stared at his empty hand and Nina.
"Enough!" she said. "How can he stand like this? There's no need to be this mean."
"I'm not being mean, I'd never do this to a person," he mumbled, seeming confused Nina said this at all.
"If that's how you think, you shouldn't have this job!"
He flinched as she stepped closer, knowing her strength, but she just shoved him aside and marched up to the nearest demon. Nina wasn't quite strong enough to outright break metal, so she grabbed a rod and rammed it in a hinge. After four hits, she got it loose.
"You can't do this!" Gosing called. She ignored him and kicked the ball away.
"Go," Nina said, holding out a hand. "You don't have to be here ... none of you do."
"No, it's okay. I'm okay here. It could be worse." The demon clutched a hand at the collar, not even meeting Nina's eyes. "They'll catch us anyway. We're better off staying, miss. Thank you for your consideration, I'm not worth it."
The demon on his unstable foot pulled up at the stairs and continued upward.
Anton stood in the door opening now. "Nina, come on, it's just demons. Let it be."
"But—"
"Nina, a word with you!" called Stefano, the site manager.
"You better go," Anton muttered.
When Nina arrived at his post, Stefano had exchanged stern overseer for fatherly overseer.
"Nina, you're a foreigner, so perhaps you have not realized this. We have laws against sympathizing with evil," Stefano said. "They exist for a reason. What you did there, it's dangerous. If you let any lenience to this filth into your mind, who knows what you absorb."
"They're not evil." Nina crossed her arms. "They're just people."
He put a hand on her shoulder. "I understand your country might have been spared the ruin that demons bring, but you have to grasp this : those things are not just violent, but deceptive. That whole humbleness you see there? It's fake. They do it only because we took great care that they know their place, but the moment they are free they will turn on innocent people. It's important they are here."
Nina looked over the quarry. Most humans averted their eyes, the rest looked at her in sympathy and confusion. Nobody looked like that at the demons as they were whipped back in place.
"No, what's fake is the goodness of your king."
No one else had spoken, yet everything went quiet in the way that terror paves.
Long moments passed, people looked around and settled their eyes on the city guards passing. Had they heard? No, they passed on.
"Nina. Get out," Stefano said once they were gone. "I don't want a scene here."
"You can't fire Nina!" Gosing said. "Come on, just give it a pass."
"You heard her. She won't be reasoned with. The pass I'm giving her is that I'm not reporting her to the authorities."
Nina wasn't sure what she'd expected to happen when she'd moved, but drooping off like this wasn't it. She turned away and stomped off the plaza, but the strength left her step before she reached the first building. Just a few minutes ago, all had been fine, for herself. Now, the whispers behind her sounded like nothing belonging to friends.
"Is she human though?" was what set loose wave of muttering : she was terribly strong for a human, and nobody really knew whether elves or anything were real, and even if she was strong, gravity should still apply in certain ways. Perhaps she was a one of those subfertuge demons, so cleverly disguised as human. Perhaps she was an escaped slave who hid the remnants of horns under her headband. Perhaps she was a spy for the remaining demon tribes.
Anton, Gosing and a few others gave some half hearted counter arguments, but soon stopped. Her throat thickened with a sob, but she forced it down. She had no business being sad. She was alive, she wasn't in trouble. She had to be fine.
She left the plaza and plastered a smile on her face. By the time she returned to the carriage, it felt natural.
· · · · · · ·
"Please, my king. Reconsider. The population is already discontent over the damage from the Orleans Knights," Angost pleaded.
"It will be fine as I have planned it," Charioce said.
"With all due respect, we might not be in need of Jeanne d'Arc's support if we were ... more careful with our city."
"Let them complain," Charioce said. "They'll be evacuated, it is only a minor inconvenience."
"My lord, please, we already have two rebellions and a city taken over by demons in the other provinces, and the collapse of the eastern economy due to the mismanagement of slave labor. After the recent carnage with the magenta dragon, we cannot afford to sow more discontent among the population. They will rebel."
"Then I will supress them."
"And I am certain you will," Angost said. "But perhaps we can do our correct goal by arranging it in the mountains right outside the city? I understand it will lead to less renown, but perhaps, rather than kill the rag demon at once, you could capture him alive and kill him in the arena to show your citizens your might? Would that not be better than a nightly execution?"
That was a fair enough point. He'd get both of what he wanted.
In the distant past, right before his eyes, stood Satan and Zeus, their hands wound in chains that lead to nowhere.
They'd have to wait a little longer.
· · · · · · ·
Sofiel and her two tenants, Iriel and Tanasuel, had rented a shabby room in the backwater of the city, paid for with heavenly waste.
Upon arrival, she had sensed the low rolling power of two gods nearby. After settling, she followed it, knowing whom to expect. Her tenants would begin the search, while she would see whether she could recruit two extra sets of eyes.
Bacchus had been exiled for falling in love with a human and chasing her to earth, while Hamsa, well, must've done something wrong because upon death he was reincarnated into a duck. They were in charge of the earthly justice system that have once been installed to subdue demon activity. Human bounty hunters were paid with divine finances to encourage them to clean of demonic presence when the gods were not around.
There hadn't been much withdrawals of the divine bank since Charioce took over, so it was no surprise she found the two gods slacking off even more. They were in a human liquor store to restock.
Sofiel remained outside the window, watching them for a moment. The sight of how casual the two gods interacted with the humans, arguing over pricing no respect on either side, drew a chuckle from her. Truly, they lived with humans, not merely among them. Ah well, they seemed at place here.
Bacchus finally sensed her and stood straight, coming outside while Hamsa continued to argue with the human.
"You're the only ones really living with humans, aren't you?" Sofiel said by way of half greeting. She didn't expect Bacchus to care for formalities anymore, and her eyes were still on Hamsa — the human had just attempted to get his tiny crown as payment, which was met with a furious quacking.
"What do you want?" he snapped. And she'd expected right.
She scraped her throat and smoothed out her features. With a gesture she invited him into the nearby alley.
"I came to look for a child with a red eye and a blue eye, who answers to El. Blonde hair, should look around 10 years of age now. Ne is likely within this city."
"Does this have to do with that surge of power the other night?" Bacchus asked.
"Indeed."
"That all you're going to tell me? Who is that child?"
"You don't need to know anything beyond that the humans will seek the child too, so take care to not ask around too obviously."
"Hmmph. Why should I even bother?"
"Consider, lady Gabriel may consider your return to heaven if you were to deliver the child to us. It may well be your last chance."
Judging by the way he froze, eyes wide open, she had his attention. The fool had probably thought he could have his affair without ever missing heaven, but here he was, and he knew what was most important. Humans died. Gods would belong in heaven forever.
She leaned closer. "Tell me once you find the child, hmm?"
Putting in a word for Bacchus wasn't part of her plans, not when she had the highest throne of heaven in her sight. It didn't hurt to let him think so, though.
· · · · · · ·
"So I got fired from my job. Any idea where I can find a new one?" Nina said.
"Just what happened?" Bacchus slurred.
"They were being horrible to the demons and I wouldn't let them. It ... it didn't work out so well."
"Stupid," Bacchus said.
"I know ... I did it in a stupid way, but I don't know what else I can do? I can't help Azazel either, and now I don't even have a job. I can't do anything right."
"Hmm, I have an idea about something you can do very right," Hamsa said. "What's your dragon triggers exactly? There's gonna be a lot of folks around."
Oh, she'd have to say it now, didn't she? Might as well get it over with.
"I think the only thing we need to worry about is, uhm ... hot guys."
"Oh, we can work with that."
A little over an hour later, they'd set up a barrel with a board outside the carriage, as well as a challenge to all strong men. The stream started small, but over the day word spread about the girl who could not be defeated even by the toughest man.
To Nina, this was a piece of cake, and a welcome diversion. One thing she'd learned early upon her arrival in Anatae was just how far she could take the misconceptions on her looks. Not only did she look rather peachy youthful due to her dragon heritage, her attitude and expressiveness had people react to her as a child far more than was good for them. Nina had defeated dozens before it became difficult to get clients, and even then the crowd was filled with disbelieving faces.
Nina kept her eyes close to the ground, as usual, to avoid the occasional handsome man. Hamsa avoided inviting those out too much, but as willing challengers grew sparse, he called out to a man in the back.
"Ah, sir, you've been watching for quite a while now. Are you just shy, or is it so you think you really cannot beat this girl?"
Nina's spotted a few glimpses of him, enough to know that even with the glasses and turban he'd be a problem, but hey, money was money. Time for the blindfold again.
Some of the men laughed and pulled him to the front. "Yeah, spindly guy. Can't fare worse than us, can you?"
"Very well then." Oh spirits, he even sounded lovely. Nina tied the blindfold extra tight.
While Nina got on her bench, the man said he had no money, but must've offered something else cause Hamsa asked, "Is this even real?"
The man didn't answer, just took his place.
Nina waited and he asked, "Why are you blindfolded?"
"It's to help her focus," Hamsa said. Bless Hamsa.
Bless the man too, for when he touched her something shot through Nina she had never experienced before. She didn't even have a name for it, and it was gone within a second, but she needed to hold it.
"All set? Ready? Go!"
With Nina lost in the nameless feeling, the man got the first push in. It wasn't just her distraction though. He was supernaturally strong. She actually had to push back, which in turn caught him off guard. She swayed him to the other side.
Now it was his turn to recover, and that he did enough to almost push her knuckles down. No, she wasn't going down. She bit into her power and went further. The wood split under her elbow, further, further, until she threw him aside.
Nina barely balanced herself on the crate from the force. Somewhere on the street, the man and the broken board fell to the ground.
"I'm sorry!" As she struggled to get the blindfold off, he stood up. Crap, she'd thrown him several meters. She hoped he was alright.
And then he stood up and she hoped she would be alright, because heaven, he was gorgeous. And approaching her. And looking at her with golden eyes. And asking, "Who are you?" in a criminally smooth voice.
"I'm Nina," she mumbled into the blindfold. Dammit, too soft. She pulled it down and said, "Nina!"
"Hmm. I'd like to have a rematch some time."
He had the kind of smile to die for, which probably would happen to at least someone if some transformed in this crowd. She squeezed her eyes. Mercifully, he walked away.
When he was gone, she looked at her hand. The strange feeling lingered there. Not unpleasant, but stranger as time went on. Then her mind took a little leap to other kinds of touching, and that would summon the dragon if nothing else. Yelping, she ran into the carriage.
She curled up on the benched and focused on breathing, the threads in the couch and the colorful painting within the carriage.
Hamsa joined her shortly, opening the box to count the money. He first took out a gorgeous black ring with purple gem.
"It's really amazing," Hamsa said. "This is an actual diamond right here, laid in the kuorsim metal. It's worth way more than 100 rupees."
Wow. That man had been something else in more ways than one.
"Can I see it?" Nina asked, and he handed it to her.
Nina held the ring close for a moment and savored it. To be given something so precious from a man she didn't even know ... after all she'd failed, the idea someone had been so fascinated with her, valued her with so much of a gift, brought her warmth. She'd have something good to write home to her mother, after all.
The ring weighed heavy in her hand and she wanted to store it in a safe place, but as the rush wore off, she remembered the world. There were people who needed more than just warmth and fluffy feelings.
· · · · · · ·
Azazel made a point of leaning on his damaged leg, willing it to heal faster. The only reason he even went to Rita for a check up was that Mugaro kept giving him the most incessant large, worried looks all the time. It just got tiresome.
At the bottom of the spiral stairway, Mugaro stopped to look and smile at something.
Malphas and Divesepid sat aside of the untended elevator on a blanket with a whole pile of cinnamon rolls and other fancy bread things.
Where had they gotten that?
He got his answer once he arrived at Rita's place. Eventually. A massive line stood before it, full of sick people. Usually Rita got only the worst cases since people were short on money around here, so this was all kinds of absurd. Money didn't just fall from the sky in the slums.
It fell from Nina's hands though. After going through they back, Azazel and Mugaro stepped into a storm of pink and cream, with a scent of fruit and salted meat. Sacks filled most rooms, even the front where Rita worked with a munching patient.
Nina popped out of the kitchen. "Azazel, Mugaro, you're just in time!" And then grew beet red and looked away.
"What are you doing here?"
"Helping! I might not be able to turn into a dragon at will, but I had some spare money and I thought Rita could give it to the patients who have it the worst. I was going to stand on just hand it out, but then I realized I'd run out before everyone had something and I didn't want to disappoint people. I also paid off everyone's debts, and Rita's going to treat people for free for the next five months at least."
"You robbed someone."
"Did not! I won it fair and square from a very lovely gentleman!" She shoved a long bread thing in his hand. "Here! You work pretty hard every day and night so you should have something good. And one for you too, Mugaro."
Mugaro bit in right away while Azazel had to process the absurdity of the situation. Why were all the sacks pink and cream?
"If all you're going to do is hover, you can do it outside," Rita said while sending her patient through the door.
"Oh, I'll get him out," Nina said. "Mugaro, could you please take over in the kitchen? Rocky and the ravens are making sandwiches but they might need a little supervision."
Mugaro gave a smile and a nod. Before Azazel could object, Nina pulled him out the door — damnit, she was awfully strong — with a bag of food in her other hand.
"So, I wanted to ask you something and—"
Azazel jumped onto the roof of Rita's house, then up the next roof and sat there, half concealed between walls. He knew by now Nina couldn't jump that high, but didn't expect that to stop her. He just wanted to be out of sight; it wasn't a bad idea to eat something decent for a change but he didn't like eating with spectators nowadays. It was degrading to be sitting on dirt, in dusty, impoverished places, stuffing up on food of humans.
Nina had the gal to sit down next to him.
"Anyway, what I was trying to say before was that I actually tracked you for a few weeks. Sorry about that. Bacchus said you were a bad guy and I ... didn't really think about everything."
"Bacchus was messing with you. He's known me for years."
"Oh, really? When did you meet?"
After Azazel had been fried by Jeanne d'Arc and Belzebuth, then dropped down on a road for Bacchus to run over with his carriage. He'd woken up tied in magical bands.
"During Bahamut's revival," he said between chewing.
"Are you the only powerful demon still left? You were kind of a jerk before, but I get why you were so desperate. It must be hard, trying to save all your people alone. I'd really like to help you for the sake of these poor folks here though, it's just that I really don't think I can do much. I can't fly and most of these streets I barely fit in," she said. "I don't want to collapse any more buildings that people live in."
Azazel tipped her face up with a finger. "Do you see the blue stuff up there? That's sky. The rushing sound behind us is the river. There's also big rocks outside the walls called hills. Consider going there. It's called a the world."
She huffed. "I do know that, you know. It's just that — look, I can't control much, okay? If I could, I'd have captured you already."
Point taken.
"Anyway, you kill those who abuse others so they'll stop, right?"
He paused. He'd come here to restore the pride of the demon tribe, but strictly speaking, that was the practical effect he had. Just the day before, he'd found himself saying similar to Kaisar. When had that happened? Crap.
"I'd do it too," she whispered. "The other day I saw some people who were mourning an Orleans Knight who died just the other day. They had a state funeral and there were so many people. I'm probably the one who killed him."
"They attacked you without provocation. It was self defense, not murder," Azazel said. A well explored distinction for him, which he'd never cared about before beyond how survivors responded to him. It still didn't really matter to him, but he had to carry that distinction now, even if just for the likes of Kaisar. They didn't do anything. They are harmless.
"I know, and I don't really regret surviving, but still. Someone with loved ones died." She pulled up her knees and hugged them close. "Y'know, I've never killed anyone before. I did burn some things in dragon form, but never went this far. I can't remember either way. What's it like, to kill someone?"
Funny, if he arranged the situation just right.
"Azazel?"
"Rita didn't tell you how she met me, did she?"
"Huh? What's that got to do with this?"
"Never mind ... It feels like power."
"I guess that's what it means," she said. "I mean, if you know it can change things, but I'm not even aware what I think. If I can think at all, when I'm a dragon. Sometimes I'm afraid that — you know what, this is really too gloomy. Let's talk something else. Did you like the sandwich?"
"Could've been better." He said. He'd only gotten halfway through in all this time, despite taking big bites.
"Really?" Nina said with a cheeky sideglance. "How sad, when you're on your third one."
... crap. This one half soft chunks on it and no meat at all. And it did in fact not taste bad.
Nina held out a fourth one. It was ridiculous but taking it felt like conceding or losing, so he didn't take it.
He finished the rest of the thing in silence while Nina sat with him in silence, still not directly looking at him. Some of the cheer was off her face again, she probably mulled over what he'd said.
She would kill, once she became a dragon, so he just had to convince her to get in place somehow. She clearly wanted to help the demons, so that should be easier than Kaisar.
Speak of the devil ...
A row of wyverns crossed the slums, circling down to the central plaza. As those landed, a second row joined in and landed on other wide areas of the slums. The screams started soon after. Within no time, the line at Rita's door vanished.
The day had come. Azazel had a pretty good guess that Charioce had finally had enough. He'd expected it, but the timing couldn't be worse.
"What's happening?" Nina asked.
He pushed her off the roof and jumped after, dragging her back into Rita's place. She'd barely stumbled in or he slammed the door and turned the lock.
"What's going on?" Rita asked as she walked up.
"Kaisar's rounding up demons," Azazel spat.
To his utter confusion, Rita unlocked the door. "They'll kick in the door if it's closed. You three go out the back, into the underground. I'll be fine, most likely. If I'm not, I'm going to bite."
Ugh, fine. Let her do her thing.
"Mugaro, we're going."
"We're not fighting?" Nina asked.
"Not in daylight, not in the slums," Azazel said.
Mugaro was already at the backdoor, opening it.
"But Rita—"
"She'll be fine." Azazel pulled her along. "Kaisar won't screw her over."
That wasn't quite entirely right, given Kaisar's recent, bizarre behavior. Azazel refused to trust it. At the end of the day, Kaisar still was just the king's lapdog.
Once in the alley, he pushed Nina in the direction of the nearest stairway. "Get lost, there's no reason for you to even be here."
She went with a sad look on her face. Mugaro looked just a touch unhappy at this, but Azazel ignored it. If Nina wasn't going to be part of the rebellion, he wasn't going to show her the underground.
· · · · · · ·
Nina got out of the slums by one of the other stairways, taking advantage of the fact that once close enough to wyverns, her scent unnerved them and they backed away. She'd returned to the carriage with little trouble and a lot of worries. She'd planned to bring by more of the newly bought food, but that'd have to wait now.
To distract herself, Nina stayed outside to brush the hippogryph's manes, trying to find the best way for scratches. It reminded her of home a little.
"Hey." There stood Rita, with her zombie carrying a bag and her crows on a stand in her hands. She set it down next to the hippogryph.
"Rita, you're okay!"
"Of course I am. They weren't taking everyone, I just needed some time to get my creatures out."
"Do you know why they rounded up those people?"
"Let's say Charioce is being himself in particular tonight."
"Anything I can do?"
"No." Rita said. "I'm staying here for the night."
Hamsa leaned out the door. "Oi, you can't just invite yourself."
"Can it," she said. "I don't want to get seen and thrown in jail for being a human associated with demons. Kaisar can only do so much."
Dejected, Nina looked at all the extra food, stuffed in pillow cases and crates.
"Are you staying long? Not that I mind your company, it's just that I hoped this wouldn't go to waste."
"Let's eat what will spoil otherwise, then we'll see whether the knights left the slums. They sometimes stick to prevent uprisings."
Nina nodded. Truth be said, she was kinda starving. As a dragonfolk, she needed far more food that an ordinary human. Lacking anything better to do, maybe they could throw a small party tonight. It'd be fun. It had to be.
Before she headed into the carriage, a movement caught her attention. Half in the shadow at the end of the road stood a little girl in rags, just for a moment before vanishing. Oh. Nina hadn't seen her since Favaro had left.
· · · · · · ·
High on their ruined tower outside the city, El finished tying the last bandages around Azazel's stomach. It was their ritual : every time Azazel left to save anyone, El would see him off. Often this was quiet, but tonight not so.
Charioce had issued a challenge. Azazel would come face to face with the dark knights that had once chased El and his mother down. Azazel would face them alone. While El could disable their power, that would not stop the wyvern riders. El might just end up a liability in the end.
Azazel softly ran his hand over El's head, and he looked up to smile at him.
"If you keep smiling for me, I might just survive tonight."
El would do whatever he could to make that true. A smile or singular power wouldn't do enough, but there was more concrete hope.
Azazel stood up, but paused at the edge of the floor. "If I don't return, go to the zombie girl."
With that he fell, flying off to where the red light of fires reflecting on the sharp hills.
Of course El wasn't going to stay. Once Azazel was gone, Mugaro floated off the tower and sped towards where he sensed Bacchus's carriage.
They had an outside feast, Nina the only one really laughing as she told a story about a mentor or something. When she spotted El, she stood up and waved.
"El! Come join us!"
He shook his head and gestured at the hills, then made a gesture as if scooping Nina along, followed by emulating horns on his head with fingers.
"Huh? Something with Azazel?" Nina sked.
El nodded and gave a sharp look at Rita. She hadn't told her anything, hadn't she?
Rita sighed.
Bacchus turned to him and asked. "He got in trouble again?"
Wild nodding. El walked to Rita and pointed at Nina. She had to tell him.
Nina's fingers dug into the wood of the table. "Rita. Azazel's in trouble, isn't he?"
Rita finally sighed and said, "Charioce set a trap. The rag demon was to show himself in a designated spot in the hills, or Charioce will kill twenty demons every hour throughout the night. Kaisar said they're planning to kill him and asked me to stop him. You know how he is. There's nothing I could do."
She looked more dejected than usual, but when Nina stood up and braced her feet into the ground, Rita still said, "Nina, don't go. You're out of your league."
"We'll see about that," Nina said, looking more stern that El had ever seen. "Azazel won't die."
With all the force of a dragon, she ran off towards the hill. El wasted no time following her, letting go of gravity. Once he caught up, he led her the right way. He hadn't been wrong about Nina; he rarely was about people.
· · · · · · ·