by J. J. Pavlov
At these words, the humans exchange blank glances. In their preconception of the Dominion, all demons living here should either hate or fear humans. After all, the Alliance sends invasions to Ceogath every few years. Then again, the last one before the disastrous campaign under Third Prince Ulterius and Elven Queen Lillian last summer was three decades ago.
"As I thought. It depends on the individual, just like it was with the missy and Vitalis." Gram turns to the others with a smile, as if a theory of his was proven right.
"Let's formally introduce ourselves. My name is Rolan, this is Sigurd, and the big man is Gram. These are Hreidunn, her nephew Leif, and niece Vigdis. And this is Kamii." The leader realizes that the young fire mage's thoughtless question that revealed them as humans didn't bring the consequences he had expected, and changes gears. If demons can be reasoned with, there may be hope yet.
"I'm Urial of the Bheda." The horned girl responds to the round of introductions. Then she seems to realize something and continues. "Oh, you might not know since the Bheda clan has no fighters, but we're a branch of the Bakari clan."
Only Sigurd seems to have heard about the Bakari clan, as he looks her up and down with a surprised expression. Nobody but Kamii seems to notice, though, as they continue the conversation.
"But I have to wonder what made you come this way. Barely anybody lives around these parts, and you either only run into nightmare breeders like us, or bands of juvenile centaurs." Urial looks across the empty steppe to make her point.
"We were transported here using magic and are looking for a way back to Blereath." Sigurd takes over the explanation. At the mention of another continent, the bheda girl raises an eyebrow in incomprehension. Noticing that fact, the bard tries a different approach. "Could you please tell us where the closest city is, then?"
"There aren't that many cities in the Dominion in the first place. But as I said before, you came to the worst place for that." She shrugs while thinking about it for a bit.
"Then who do you even sell those nightmares to?" Leif blurts out a question once again. This time, it's not an incriminating one, but Hreidunn still shoots him a sideways glance that suggests he should try to speak less.
"Oh, my family has been nightmare breeders for generations. We exclusively supply the Ghost Riders of Queen Pelomyx." Urial replies while puffing out her chest in pride. It was hidden under her baggy clothes, but despite her small height, she has a respectable bust. That's another part where she differs from Lenoly.
But the humans exchange worried glances at the sheep girl's mention of the Ghost Riders. It seems that aside from Kamii, they have all heard the tales. And a more significant factor for their apprehension is that they now know Urial works for the demon queen.
"Have you ever met the queen?" Rolan asks carefully, shooting a sideways glance at Vigdis. She has turned white at the revelation that these are the very nightmares from the tales her mother doubtlessly told during her childhood.
"Oh no, that would be absurd. We send messages to the mustering officers of the Dominion army whenever a new generation has been bred, and they come to inspect them. My family hasn't left these plains for generations." Waving at the leader's question with one hand for the ridiculousness that she perceives it as, Urial explains the dry procedure behind her business. "In either case..."
The sheep demon pauses and straightens her back before regaining a serious expression. She's returning to the matter at hand: Three dead nightmares still lie behind them, and she intends to collect the debt.
"We are very sorry, but as you can see, we are not in the best situation and have nothing of worth on us right now." The bard catches on quickly and steps forward while gesturing at everybody. He makes sure to avoid glancing at Rolan's enchanted sword, as it's a legendary weapon and unquestionably priceless. The possibility that she saw its blinding light from afar is there, but they can say that it was Leif's fire magic.
"This is all we have." Gram takes off his backpack and produces a leather purse filled with a few silver and two gold coins. These aren't all their savings, as the majority is left in the guild bank. But in their current situation, it may as well be everything they own.
Urial quickly snatches the purse out of the big man's hand as if afraid that he's going to draw it back again. She takes out and holds up the gold coin, staring at it carefully before testing it with a bite.
"Seems to be real gold." She states while putting it back in the purse before taking out one of the silver coins. It's much harder to identify real silver in coins, as it's usually mixed with less valuable metals. "But this is not even enough for one nightmare."
"What about Roshanee?" But the leader suddenly offers, as if not having noticed the bard's earlier attempt at hiding it. The latter stares at him with a rare surprised expression, his jaw hanging open in exasperation.
"What's that?" The sheep girl asks curiously. "If it's made of silver or gold, it should be worth something."
"You can't do that." Hreidunn steps forward and holds Rolan back as he's about to untie the sword's scabbard from his belt. "We agreed not to sell it as long as we stay together."
"But..." The leader tries to protest, but Gram puts a hand on his shoulder. Even though Rolan is usually sharp-witted, his mind grows duller in most things that don't involve combat. And he's densest at the most important of times. His sense of honor tells him that to pay reparations, he should give up even a treasure of the kingdom, thinking about it only in terms of monetary value.
"Now I'm interested." Urial squints her eyes at the group in suspicion, but Kamii steps forward with a deadpan face.
"We'll work it off." She states in a matter of fact tone, causing everybody to stare at her in surprise. Then Leif realizes what exactly it is that she just suggested.
"Are you telling us to work for demons?!" He blurts out, and this time, it's Vigdis who pulls on his reins by hitting the back of his head with her staff. She's afraid of the prospect just the same but doesn't wear it on her sleeve as her brother does.
"We need to return home as quickly as possible." Sigurd argues, but the dark elf turns to look into his eyes with her glowing amethyst ones. There's something incredibly persuasive about them as she regards her companion with a gaze free of doubt.
"What for?" Kamii asks, stunning the bard with this straightforward question. Her statement perfectly captures the spirit of her long-lived people; they will return to Kongenssoevn, be it after one summer or a decade. And if it's going to take several moons anyway, they may as well stop worrying.
"Oy, what are you doing?" An elderly man exclaims while coming up the hill behind Urial. He has a goatee and the same type of horns as the girl before them, but his are much longer and curved around his ears. Upon seeing the group of humans and then the three dead nightmares, his narrow eyes go wide in shock. "What happened here, Urial!"
"Hey, gramps! The nightmares came to play with them; they overreacted." The girl explains while the man approaches. "They're humans that ended up here because of some transportation circle accident."
"Oh, humans." The old man slows down at the confirmation of his initial impression and regards the group members one by one. His eyes stop on Kamii for a moment longer, but just like his open-minded granddaughter, he doesn't comment on it. "Will they pay?"
And just like his business-minded granddaughter, he regards the losses right away, as if ignorant of the potential danger posed by any human found in Dominion territory. Maybe he's a powerful demon who is confident in his abilities, or he believes that this particular group means them no harm.
"They're pretty much broke." She holds up the leather purse and rattles its miserable contents. Then she slumps her shoulders in resignation and turns back to the group. "There is no work for humans here."
She proceeds to give them a quick rundown of the jobs of a nightmare breeder. Despite supplying such an elite cavalry unit, all they do is guide their herd across the plains in search of the best pastures. When one gets sick
, they nurture them back to health, and when delivery is difficult, they help out. Aside from those things, they simply live a nomadic lifestyle alongside the herd, meaning that there are no stables they would need a hand in.
"It's alright. We can use their meat." Urial's grandfather sighs, mirroring his granddaughter's resignation. Then he looks at Sigurd as if discerning that he's a part-time bard. "Tell us stories of the human world in return, and we'll give you some of the meat for your journey."
Blinking, the person in question stares at the demon, then glances at Rolan, who closes his eyes and nods with an exaggerated shrug. It would seem that things were steered in the direction of Kamii's decision once again.
The group of six humans and one dark elf sit cross-legged in a large tent surrounded by Urial and her family. Her grandfather's name is Ammon, and her voluptuous mother - who looks more like a sister - is called Arkali. Hiding behind the latter's back is a small girl by the name of Vicola. She appears to be around ten summers old and has a developing coat of wool growing from her head similar to her older sister's, but has yet to grow out horns. The twins Koria and Korum, a girl and a boy respectively, are playing with Gram. They climb onto his arms and back while he carefully makes sure that they don't hurt themselves.
The lack of a father is neither questioned by the humans nor explained by the sheep demons. He may have joined the war or died of an illness, as such things happen.
"We don't get many guests out here, so excuse us for having only so little to offer." Arkali states with a motherly gaze that warms everybody's souls as she hands them wooden bowls filled with fresh nightmare stew.
Kamii glances at the humans and notices the anxious expressions on their faces at the prospect of eating something that's most likely corrupted by the demon queen's aura. Especially Hreidunn and Leif stare at the stew while doing a poor job at hiding their disgust, and Vigdis maintains a frozen smile with cold sweat forming on her forehead.
The dark elf looks down at the bowl in her hand. She's been with Mahkotoh for a long time and never felt bad. In fact, being with her has increased her vitality - and not just owing to their nightly activities. Considering she's already cursed, there should be no harm in taking in any more corruption at this point.
"Ma, they killed three nightmares. You don't need to show so much- ouch!" Urial begins, but Arkali pinches her daughter's fur-covered, pointy ear while keeping the hospitable smile on her lips unchanged.
"Have you forgotten our traditions, Urial?" She reprimands her daughter in a voice overflowing with warmth. It's the very definition of killing with kindness. "Excuse my daughter, she hasn't had many opportunities to learn manners in front of guests."
"No, madam, your daughter is right. We should be the ones compensating you for your loss. Instead, we receive your kindness." Sigurd takes this opportunity to speak so that he doesn't have to eat the food that he, too, thinks is tainted with corruption.
"What's the matter?" Urial peers down at the humans with a suspicious look in her eyes when she sees that they haven't begun to eat yet.
"They're afraid of corruption." Kamii answers before any of them can make up an excuse. She then unhesitatingly takes a spoonful of the nightmare stew and brings it to her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise, causing the humans to stare at her in horror, thinking that she may have been poisoned. Then the little dark elf quickly shovels more into her mouth with a rare enthusiastic expression.
Rolan looks down at his bowl but still hesitates. At this point, the demons notice that none of the group other than Kamii has begun eating and exchange worried glances. Maybe Arkali thinks that they dislike her food even without trying it.
"What's the matter?" She asks, causing Vigdis's façade to crack. But before she can speak up, Gram does.
"We're afraid that the meat is cursed. The demon queen's corruption causes normal animals to turn into monsters, and human forms are warped by it." He's the one person among the humans to have actually suffered due to one such cursed monster.
Kamii could have recounted the tale of her treatment at the hand of humans because of her cursed arm. But after meeting Mahkotoh, she hasn't once thought about the crab pincer in a negative light. She has been showered with love in spite of what humans consider a blight - or maybe because of it.
"The queen's corruption?" Urial asks with a skeptical look. The evidence is undeniable, but she doubts the truthfulness of that claim considering it comes from a human. She may be unexpectedly amicable with them despite the still ongoing war between their people, but it stops at something she may perceive as defamation of her queen.
"Ah, I see. That's what they teach you, huh?" Ammon comments with a chuckle as he strokes his goatee. "What you call corruption is a blessing to our people. It makes our people strong and healthy."
"Huh?" Rolan interjects with unexpected vehemence, and everyone turns to him in surprise.
"I can understand your disbelief, young man, but..." Producing a pipe from his overalls pocket and lighting it with a burning stick from the fireplace, Ammon takes a puff. Due to this deliberately drawn-out pause, the tension in the room subsides again, as everybody watches his practiced movements. "I am living proof."
"Please explain." Hreidunn raises an eyebrow and demands of the old sheep demon.
"I've lived through thirty-six winters. That's an age that humans would consider halfway to the grave, right?" Nodding, Ammon proceeds to speak with a wry smile. While the people in the Kingdom of Lares count their short summers, those living in warmer climates use winters to count the time they have spent in this world. "Would you then believe me if I told you that I have lived twice as long as members of my people used to? That Arkali, my second daughter, would live only six more winters?"
Rolan and the others stare at him, dumbfounded. To humans, demons have always appeared to be a long-lived race due to their leading figures' longevity. King Aldeath seemed immortal until it was proven that he wasn't, but he had already lived five centuries by then.
"Vicola is six winters old." He pets his youngest granddaughter's hair at these words. Leif and Vigdis stare at her with round eyes, disbelief written in their faces. "Two winters from now, she would have been considered a young adult in my time."
Everybody is speechless as they regard his story. Urial peers up at her grandfather with a solemn expression. Kamii and the twins have continued to eat throughout, and Arkali has been listening while watching them warmly.
"Before Queen Pelomyx, our lives used to be much faster; our time in this world much shorter." The elderly-looking bheda who's only five summers older than Gram concludes his explanation, leaving Hreidunn unable to respond. She was the one who asked, but now she feels awkward about it.
Rolan stares at Ammon in silence. Then his eyes move across the other demons and stop on the youngest child. He lowers his gaze to contemplate what he just heard.
Unlike most humans in the Empire of Terminus, he has always believed that there are innocent demons. After all, they are a people capable of verbal communication with humans. They were simply born in a different nation and have lived under a string of evil leaders with the latest being Demon Queen Pelomyx.
However, now he has learned that the corruption felt by humans is a blessing to demons. And having met Ammon and his family, he isn't sure about whether or not killing the demon queen is the right thing to do anymore.
Gram's father was killed by a cursed beast, and many others have suffered because of corruption. But can all that really be weighed against shortening the lifespans of who knows how many millions of innocent demons alive today? How many will die shortly after the queen has been killed and her influence dispelled?
Sigurd has accused him of thinking about things on too grand a scale before, but in the same breath praised it. He always believed that it was the right thing to do, as selfishness too often won over justice in this world. Now he found his resolve mired by doubts.
What would Runa say if she were here?
Chapter 80 - Caught In The Wild
They had been granted hospitality that would have put even the most traditional family from the Slaettermark to shame. Their killing of three nightmares had been forgiven, and they were even given comfortable beds in an extra tent for the night. All that from a family of demons, whom they should have considered enemies.
Furthermore, Ammon even gave them supplies for their journey in the morning and pointed them the way to a city called Ajurai, located south after a march of five days. He told them to ask for help from Chandra, the Chief of Ajurai, who would be able to give them directions. Arkali even suggested to let them ride nightmares, as the animals would find their way back after delivering them. Rolan couldn't accept it and gratefully declined.
"But be careful, Chandra is a fickle woman and has a strange grasp on morals and authority. The demon queen killed her father when she took the throne, but instead of seeking revenge, she supported her ascension." Ammon had explained shortly before their departure, giving them one final piece of advice. "It seems that she's a remnant from a past age when strength was all that mattered."
Chandra was a name that rang no bells even for the well-educated Sigurd, and the city of Ajurai had never been on any of the empire's invasion routes. Even the Degar steppes were only ever mentioned in conjunction with the homeland of the formidable centaurs. Something even farther south from these massive plains would go unnoticed unless demons of renown equal to or even greater than the half-man half-horse warriors hailed from there.
"Are you sure we want to ask someone who's friends with the demon queen for help?" Gram wonders while turning to Rolan. He makes a fair point, but beggars can't be choosers. Although Ammon and his forebears have lived in the Degar steppes for many generations, only a few of their family have any knowledge of the world beyond the plains. They couldn't help them other than to point to somebody who could, even if that was a dangerous person.
The leader has been giving everything he learned so far much thought. He never once doubted that there could be innocent demons, and he first got evidence when he learned from Runa that there were a few dozen demons in the Royal Academy. He always understood that the world is not a black and white place and that humans are not absolute good or the demons absolute evil.
