Starchild Crusaders

by J. J. Pavlov

  "Where are you from? What are your plans in life?" I pursue the matter and don't let him wiggle his way out of this. For now, I don't want to play the master card and order him to do it. I'm not interested enough to really force him to tell though, so if he stonewalls, I won't care too much.

  "I born here. Wanted to open own shop." Thinking that not telling me would be testing my patience, he quickly replies. As expected, he's a simple man wanting to make a simple living in this complicated world. If I hadn't shown up, he might have never had anything more exciting happen in his life than seeing somebody getting beaten up and thrown out of the underground bar.

  "That sounds great. I'm sure you can do it." The fact that he used the past tense didn't pass me by unnoticed; he still fears that I'll kill him in the end after all. I do plan on releasing him, as long as he doesn't betray me before then. "What kind of shop?"

  "Alcohol. I know recipes." Warming up a little when talking about his future plans, he can't help but smile. In fact, he even sounds proud when he announces his slogan. "Best spirit in Almadinad. Good alcohol for good people."

  Jalil is growing on me. I won't forget that he wanted to swindle me and buy Hestia for cheap, but he's not an evil person. He just saw an opportunity that wouldn't even come in a lifetime for most people. I can't fault him for seeing a fast way out of his line of work and trying to take it.

  Or maybe I'm giving him too much credit. In either case, my train of thoughts is cut short when the old man arrives with the food, carrying several plates in each hand with a dexterity I wouldn't have expected from a person of his age. The fact that the boat shakes from every movement makes his feat that much more impressive.

  Without even waiting for me, Hestia picks up the one thing she's most familiar with and begins to bite down on it. It's a kind of flatbread, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. It seems freshly baked, leading me to question how the old man did that inside his small hut. But I remember that I haven't had a proper meal aside from raw meats in just as long as the fallen angel beside me, and stop thinking about unnecessary things.

  The biggest bowl contains something resembling rice, topped with a variety of nuts, dried fruits, and what appears to be a whole grilled chicken cut into pieces for easier handling. The rice is glistening with fat from the chicken, and the smell tickling my nose makes my mouth water.

  We're each given an empty plate and a wooden spoon, and I immediately begin my meal by getting that chicken rice. When I bite down on the meat, I find that the skin is an explosion of flavor from spices I've never tasted in my lives, past and present. Then I'm surprised to find that the inside is juicy - even though it's the white meat of chicken, which I've never known as anything but somewhat dry. The aromatic rice, not cooked Japanese style, complements its taste rather than serve as a filler.

  The next thing I reach for is a small plate filled with what look like spring rolls. When I bite into one, I can taste a mix of minced meat and vegetables. It's pretty much just spring rolls, but using spices different from those in Chinese cuisine. The taste is just as good as that of the chicken, and I feel overwhelmed by the variety of flavors.

  There's a salad made from diced greens, tomato-like cubes, and what smells like onion. Another plate contains small lamb chops garnished with herbs, and there's a bowl with an assortment of spicy beans.

  I can't believe the local food is this good, and that it's found in a place such as this. If I had come here as a tourist, I would have never thought of visiting this small boat restaurant. In fact, from the outside, I wouldn't even have guessed that it's a restaurant in the first place.

  "Good job bringing us here, Jalil." I praise our guide, and he sighs in relief. He should have been able to tell that we're enjoying this food by the fact that we haven't stopped or even said a single word until now. "All of this is really tasty."

  He turns to the old man and interprets it for us. The latter laughs at the praise and gives me a mostly toothless grin, gesturing that there's more in the kitchen. Of course, neither Hestia nor I say no to that offer.

  When we finish, I stand up and make way for Hestia so that she can get back on land and stretch her wings. I have something to discuss with the old man, whose name is Hassan, and need Jalil to interpret for me. It's not that I want the angel girl out of the way for this, but she might not like what we'll be talking about.

  "Can Hassan ferry us to the capital? What was it called again?" I ask our guide and interpreter.

  "Qusantinah." He quickly reminds me of the name I only heard once in the underground bar while interrogating Basim. "Capital very far. Take many days."

  "Then, to the next city downstream." I gesture in the direction where the river flows, and the old man strokes his beard in understanding. Pointing is a universal language. But he doesn't know how far I want him to go and turns around to Jalil with a questioning gaze.

  "One day. Can leave in morning." After a short exchange with Hassan, he explains while holding up a finger.

  "No, we leave now." I produce a leather pouch filled with coins from within my red cloak - though actually pulling it out of my stomach - and place it on the table. Just like back when I bargained for Senka, I have no idea about the worth of this currency and how much is in there. But judging by the sound of it, there should be quite a bit, and both men stare at it in surprise.

  "Now?" Jalil looks up and asks in a skeptical tone, while the old man opens the pouch and looks inside, only for his eyes to nearly pop out. He quickly asks our interpreter what I said, and upon hearing it, immediately replies with laughter. The latter begins to interpret, but he cuts it short while glancing at me in fear. It seems the old man may have said something rude. "He say we go now."

  "Alright. Half the money now, the other half when we arrive." I point at the pouch and state in a matter of fact tone. Not like Hassan could run anywhere with the money since we'll depart right now, but I wanted to do it the way commonly seen in fiction.

  "All?" This time, it's Jalil's turn to pop his eyes as he stares at me flabbergasted.

  "Yes, all of it. Money means nothing to me." I still have a few dozens more such pouches inside me, taken from the already digested bodies of the slave owners and their bodyguards. "Serve me well, Jalil, and you will have enough money to fulfill your dream."

  When he hears that, his jaw drops. In his mind, he was most likely resigning himself to either try his luck running away from me despite my warning, or follow me until I kill him for one reason or another. I'm not a monster... well, technically I am. But I won't kill somebody who helps me out.

  "You pay me?" He asks as if expecting that I would have him work for free. That would be like keeping a slave, and I'm not in such a habit.

  "Yes, but only when I say you can go. I need you until we leave the Khurut Sultanate." I add so he doesn't get ahead of himself.

  "Ohhh thank you, master!" Lowering his head in a subservient gesture, Jalil expresses his gratefulness again and again. I think the hope that he's not only getting out of my service alive but also going to strike it rich has blossomed in his heart.

  He then quickly turns around to Hassan and talks to him in their language, most likely telling him to hurry up. The old man gets into gear and jumps onto the pier to undo the mooring. With sure hands and feet, he kicks the boat away from the quay and hops over. Pulling on the fixed oar at the back of the vessel, he begins to propel us away from the harbor and onto the center of the river.

  Jalil tells me that the old man is giving us his shelter for the night, but I gesture at Hestia to go in alone; I won't be sleeping until I'm back by Kamii's side, and this body makes such a feat possible.

  She comes back out a moment later and mutters that it's filthy inside. Hassan may be a nice person, but his hygiene is a different matter. I hope she won't get sick from eating the food prepared by somebody like that.

  I tell her to take off her robe and cover the bed with it, and that I'll buy her new clothes when we reach the capital. The
nights are quite chilly, but the inside of the cabin is warmed by coals in a metal brazier. She should do fine even in her skimpy nightwear.

  When Hestia is settled down, I peek out from between the curtains to see that Jalil has laid down on the bench and is dozing off. Hassan continues to row, invigorated by the handsome reward awaiting him at the end of this journey.

  The day is coming to an end, and even though it was only in the last few hours, a lot has happened in it. Two children now have a foster father who will most definitely do his best to keep them happy, eternally bound by the fear of what will happen to him if he doesn't. I've also gotten most of the information I need to make my way back to Kamii's side. And we're currently moving steadily towards that goal.

  I walk through the hut, past Hestia's wings, and emerge on the other side to sit down on the bow of the boat. Turning my finger into a blade, I place a cut next to the scar from the one I gave myself yesterday. Another day has passed - another day in which my beloved little dark elf is in the hands of the academy.

  The rippling of the water and the rhythmic sound of the creaking oar blend into a background noise over which I lose feel myself. But I keep my mind sharp and let my thoughts swirl around the fact that I was made to forget the appearance of the teleportation circle under the academy with just a verbal order from Basarab. If he can achieve that much with just a sentence, what could he do to the captured Kamii in my absence?

  I've seen enough stories in which the heroine gets kidnapped and brainwashed before being pitted against the hero in a battle to the death. It's usually the villain's aim to break their nemesis, but it's always foiled through the power of love. However, I don't know what I would do if Kamii were to have really forgotten about me or even came to stand against me as an enemy.

  And what about Daica? She doesn't even know what happened, but the academy might actually seek her out and punish her as a potential collaborator of mine.

  I curse my impotence and the mistakes I made. Maybe I should have been more cooperative in tone, but when I suddenly found myself surrounded by the professors keeping Kamii and Hestia as hostages, my mind blanked out a bit. It could have become a repeat of the day of my enrolment when everything turned out better than expected if only I had been able to come up with some half-truths to appease them.

  No, I doubt that was an option. Even without being aware of Basarab's abilities, I knew that being captured by humans is something I have to avoid at all costs. I've witnessed what they're capable of doing to members of their own race when they're perceived as enemies, so a demon has far fewer chances of survival.

  "Ib hathan!" The old man calls out to me from the back of the boat while pointing at the sky and pulls me out of my thoughts. I stand up and shrug exaggeratedly to signal him that I didn't understand a word.

  "Al-Mulakip il Allaya ihuna."

  He keeps his arm raised, so I look up to find that there are three full moons. Or rather, two white holes in space and one almost full moon. They're aligned perfectly to appear like eyes and a mouth. I saw them back in the kingdom when we were on our journey from Hovsgaerden to Kongenssoevn.

  "What is that?" I ask Hassan in a questioning inflection.

  "Mulakip il Allaya." He seems to understand that I don't know this and repeats part of his sentence. Maybe that's the name of that phenomenon. Or it's a god in this world, consisting of a pair of glowing spheres that look like they're in outer space. Senka told me not to think about it too much because something of that size will forever be out of my league. The thought that there's an existence up there that could swallow our planet without even noticing its presence is terrifying.

  Wait, is that what a Cosmic Horror is? Why am I so much smaller and stuck on this planet? What's with the vast difference between us? Well, it's all just conjecture on my part.

  I stare at it, and it feels as if a force is pulling on me, but there's no sign of it blinking. But after a while, I notice that they're going out of alignment with the moon and growing smaller as if moving away. At first, I thought it was my imagination since it's such a slow process, but when they're half the size of the moon, I'm sure.

  Judging by how Hassan referred to it in an almost affectionate tone, it's not associated with some sort of calamity. And seeing how it's slowly disappearing, I'd say this planet and I have nothing to worry about for the time being.

  The first rays of the sun peek over the horizon. Another sleepless night has passed in which I watched the barely changing surroundings slowly move by as Hassan accompanied it all with calm songs from time to time. While I didn't understand a word, I felt the emotions in them and couldn't stop thinking about Kamii and Daica. Surely, he was singing of lost love and separation - or I'm just projecting.

  By the time the sun has separated from the horizon fully, a town comes into view in the distance. Greenery lines the riverbanks, though it barely extends farther than a stone throw from the water. Even then, people maintain small vegetable gardens and crop fields, using ladles on long poles to scatter water from the river across them.

  The river has grown wider along the way, as another one feeds into it. It explains why there's far more activity here now than there was before. Many other boats are traversing the waterway now, and Hassan waves to some of the ferrymen as we pass them by. It seems that he's well known, but that's unsurprising when considering his age and experience.

  "Moqadis." Jalil stands up on the other side of the hut and points at the city walls. Unlike Almadinad, this town has grown beyond its walls, which have even been torn down in some place to make space for roads and more houses. I guess my initial impression that this nation may not be at peace, unlike the kingdom, was false. Almadinad just isn't prosperous and fertile enough to allow for much growth. "Beautiful city, good food."

  It seems our guide already knows what it is that I enjoy in life. Aside from love, I only need food - anything else, including a home and clothes, are unimportant when I have those two. I'd love to have breakfast made by Hassan, but I also want to try the specialties of this city, so I'm in a little bit of a dilemma.

  I'll let Hestia decide, as I enter the small hut to wake her up. She has barely moved in her sleep, and her expression appears pained. Maybe she's having a nightmare, or the cramped space is uncomfortable for her.

  "Wake up, it's morning." I shake her shoulder, and she jumps.

  "H-huh?" Looking around with big eyes, the fallen angel acts as if somebody just screamed at her. "Chloe?"

  "Everything's alright." I hug her head and stroke her hair. She calms down and sighs from the feeling of comfort, putting her arms around my waist to keep me close.

  "We arrive soon-" Jalil peeks through the curtains to announce that we're reaching the harbor momentarily, but freezes when he sees us embracing. "S-sorry!"

  With this apology, his head disappears again. The moment has been ruined, and I separate from Hestia.

  "You can stretch your wings on the bow. There's more space." I point where I came from just moments earlier and suggest to her. It's also going to make a great impact on the people of this city to see her in full bloom first thing in the morning.

  She pushes aside the curtain and walks out with her wings folded, and I follow her into the sunlight. We're almost at the docks of the bustling city, and the people walking on the quay stare at the fallen angel as she spreads her wings to their full size. I've seen her do it a many times, but it's always an impressive sight.

  Hassan brings us to the pier and hops over with a rope in hand. Despite his old age, he looks like a cheerful child with a light step, knowing he's getting a reward very soon. A dockhand, a man with a pencil mustache similar to Jalil's, comes over while pointing at Hestia and demanding something loudly.

  "Jalil." I call out to our guide and interpreter. "Tell him that we're envoys of the gods and that if he welcomes us, he shall prosper."

  He stares at me with big round eyes, but when I frown and nod my head in the direction of the noisy man, he scrambles t
o comply and very nearly stumbles overboard.

  After a quick conversation between the two, Jalil turns around and waves at me. The dockhand bows in my direction and grins servilely, revealing a set of yellow teeth. I suppress the urge to grimace and put on a dignified air, acknowledging his existence but not paying him much more attention.

  With the potential problem out of the way, I step onto the docks and help Hestia up. Then I turn to Hassan and hand him the promised purse, the coins inside clinking audibly. He opens it and begins counting as if suspecting that I replaced its contents with scrap metal overnight. When he sees that it's real money, he looks up and gives me a broad smile that comes from the bottom of his heart.

  "Shukran!" Bowing his head, he appears to be suppressing the urge to jump in celebration.

  "Tell him that he did well." I walk past Jalil and order him to relay my words to the old man. Hestia follows me wordlessly, and we walk into town with everybody's eyes on us.

  I don't really want to be in the spotlight, but keeping her wings hidden either require me to put a collar on her or turn myself into a bodysuit. While both activities are quite fun in their own ways, I don't want the inconvenience of being tethered to her all the time or not existing in the eyes of others.

  "You want breakfast?" Jalil quickly catches up to us after finishing his talk with Hassan and asks eagerly.

  "Yes. You seem to know this place well, so lead the way." I gesture for him to walk ahead of us. "Price isn't a problem."

  "I understand. Follow me." Waving at us to follow, he leads us through the streets and alleyways of Moqadis. He seems to have trodden this path often, as he's sure in his step and doesn't waste time looking around.

  Along the way, the people stare at us like we're aliens. Some call their friends while pointing at us, others even go so far as to drop the things in their hands from the surprise of seeing a fair-skinned girl with jet black wings walk among them. A small following develops, mostly consisting of young men and boys, that stay at a respectful distance while tailing us.