“You know which way east is, right?” Trevor asked after they left the tower. He expected the demon to not know.

“‘Course I know. Most worlds, the sun rises in the east. It’s gettin’ later, so we can just go in the opposite direction from the sun,” Aralan stated.

Though he still had some doubts about the demon’s sense of direction, Trevor followed him. “So, Annette, you like to read?” he asked, hoping to spark a conversation.

Annette nodded with a smile. “Books always make me imagine far-off lands and creatures I’ve never seen. My favorite was a story about a knight who slayed a dragon to save a princess. It turned out that the dragon was the king in disguise who was only looking for someone worthy of his daughter.”

“Oh, so you like the classic stories with a little bit of a twist? Personally, I was really into mystery stories. It’s enthralling to discover secrets along with the characters in the story, or already know them and watch them figure it out,” Trevor explained.

“A close second favorite was a story about a queen of ice. Her magic was so powerful that she could summon a blizzard with a mere breath. She was searching for a successor, and she found one in a village that she nearly froze over. I thought it was amazing how she convinced the boy from the village to become her apprentice even when she almost killed him.”

Trevor smiled as he watched her become even more invested as she described the story. “We could probably find you even more books to read as we travel.”

Annette gasped, turning fully toward him. “Really? I’d love that! After we check the village, we should head to a larger city. I’m sure they’d have a sizable library there.”

“We could get a bunch of things in a city. With any luck, we might find one that’s a good center of trade.”

Annette nodded in agreement. “And if there’s lots of people, we’re more likely to find someone who knows where Jean is.”

Aralan glanced back at the two. “Lotsa things to buy and lotsa ways to make money, too. We should remember to ask around at the village if there’s a city nearby.”

While Trevor and Annette chatted about this and that and Aralan sometimes chipped in (to Trevor’s disdain), Rayan was dealing with a rather unusual interrogation.

“Why the hell are you talking with Trevor or even letting him take control?” Christopher demanded.

Rayan eyed him, frowning. “He was just the first person to volunteer. If you wanted to take over after that demon got to me, I would’ve let you.”

“So you don’t like him?”

Rayan shook his head. “I don’t like people at all.”

“Well, that explains much,” a womanly voice came from behind him.

Rayan turned, seeing a woman he didn’t recognize. She was tall as all hell, with horns, large wings, and a spined tail. Mutae, he was guessing.

“Did you feel nothing when you saw Celien laying frozen on the ground?” Her voice raised, resembling a roar as she approached him.

“I didn’t really care for him, and-”

Before he could even finish the sentence, he was surprised by a slap to his cheek that was strong enough to send him falling to the ground. “Trevor was distraught! A grown man should never have to cry as he did! Get up,” she ordered with a growl. “We’re going to make that demon pay, but first you must be able to face it.”

Rayan got up from the ground, looking at her with furrowed eyebrows. “What? You’re gonna make me fight it? No w-”

Again, he was cut off by a slap which sent him to the ground. “Allow me to restate myself. You will become able to face it, or your time here will become unbearable,” Mutae threatened, snarled really. “Get. Up.”

With a scowl, Rayan pushed himself back up so that he could stand. “Fine. So, what, you’re gonna beat me up until I learn to fight?”

“Precisely. Try to hit me, if you dare,” she goaded, lowering her stance.

Christopher looked between them, deciding to not get in the middle of this. “I’ll chat with you later, I guess.” With that, he walked off into the darkness.

Rayan glanced at Christopher, though his gaze quickly went back to Mutae. He’d never been in a fight before, nor did he ever expect to. But he had to do something. With that in mind, he rushed at Mutae and aimed a punch at her gut. It hit, but he almost immediately regretted it when he realized just how tough her body was. He drew his hand away with a hiss of pain.

“What a soft hit. I’ve met goblins with less strength than you,” Mutae chided.

Though she raised her hand to strike him, he was faster, going for a second punch to her gut with his other hand. This time, it seemed to phase her. A little bit, at least.

Mutae grunted, scowling. “Like a bite from a flea.” She opened her hand, claws extending from her fingers. Swiping down at Rayan, the claws raked into his chest, leaving a stinging wound there.

Though he felt like just giving in from that strike alone, he threw a desperate right hook at her head. Through sheer luck, he landed it and seemed to do some damage against her.

An annoyed growl rumbled from her throat. She glared daggers at him before swiping at him again, aiming for his head. He ducked out of the way before her claws struck him.

“You can dodge well, I’ll give you that,” she hissed.

Already in a somewhat crouched position, Rayan sprang up and uppercutted Mutae. “That’s ‘cuz I don’t want to get carved up,” he snapped back.

“Too bad,” she replied as she swiped downward at his chest. Her claws snagged into his flesh, painfully dragging him down until he lay crumpled on the ground.

Rayan whimpered and spluttered in pain, clutching his chest. At least it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as when Aralan cut his wings off. “Why- why me?” he choked out. “You could deal with Aralan much better than I could.”

Mutae glowered down at him, crossing her arms. “Unfortunately, out of all of us, you have the keenest reflexes while controlling the body. Mine leave much to be desired. Now get up. We will do this a thousand times over if it is needed.”

Rayan spent a couple more seconds on the ground recuperating before he reluctantly stood up again, raising his fists.

-

“-So, I told her that we didn’t sell breakfast after eleven in the morning. Lady got real mad,” Trevor said.

“Really? What’d she do?” Annette asked, intrigued by his tales of foodservice industry misadventures.

“Threw a whole hissy fit. Threw napkins and straws everywhere, nearly tipped over the lemonade dispenser. And I had to clean it up,” he complained.

“What I’m more concerned about is the fact you charged that fuckin’ much for a patty of processed meat stuck between some bread,” Aralan commented. A moment later, he stopped in his tracks abruptly. “Quiet. Somethin’s followin’ us.”

Both Trevor and Annette halted, casting wary glances this way and that. As the silence set in, no sound came through the forest. Even the wind had gone still. Aralan took the polearm off of his back, holding it at the ready in case of a threat. Tense moments passed until he spoke up again.

“Stay here. I’ll see if it’s that damn flyin’ beast,” he said as he spread his wings. With a few flaps, he had cleared the canopy.

Trevor looked over at Annette. “I’ll make sure nothing gets to you,” he reassured. For real this time, he promised himself. Unbeknownst to him, phantasmal chains wrapped around both of his wrists before disappearing.

Annette gazed back at him, nodding. “Of course. You’ll be my knight.”

From above, they heard the crackles of water rapidly freezing. Along with this, they heard Aralan shouting, “Check the backpack!”

Trevor took a moment to register this before he reached back to feel around in the backpack. His fingers brushed against an object which he then pulled out. It was a small blade kept in a sheath. Thankful that he at least had a weapon now, he unsheathed it.

A growl from behind alerted him to the fact that this was done just in time. He stepped around Annette to put himself between her and whatever it was. A canine beast approached. It resembled a wolf, but the thing’s fur was patchy at best. Its body was instead marked by spots of scales. What wasn’t covered by fur or scales was left bare, exposing its gangrenous flesh.

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Trevor let off an involuntary shudder at the creature’s appearance. Dashing forward, he flipped the dagger into an underhand grip and stabbed at the thing’s head. The blade sunk into its muzzle, leaving a nasty puncture. Yanking the blade out, he nearly gagged from the stench that spewed forth.

Though it was clearly in great pain, it took advantage of his moment of hesitation. Leaping forward, it knocked him off of his feet and bit into his left arm when he instinctively used it to block its jaws. The crushing force felt like it was just barely not enough to crack the bones.

His body ignoring the bite for now, he brought his right arm up and jammed the blade into its neck. When he pulled it out, reeking blood spewed from the punctured artery in bursts. Its jaws slackened around his arm and with some adrenaline-fueled strength, he was able to shove its body off of himself.

“Are you alright? Oh, your arm looks hurt,” Annette worried aloud from behind him. She stepped over, kneeling down to help lift him into a sitting position.

Trevor tilted his head back, breathing a long sigh. Looking back down afterward, he flashed a grin. “I’ll be fine. It’ll hurt like hell later on, though.”

“Down you go!” Aralan shouted. About ten feet away from them, the demon came crashing down. Pinned underneath and impaled through the chest by his blade, the owl gave some last few flaps of its wings before going still. The demon stood up straight, chuckling as he yanked out the blade of his polearm. “Have any trouble down here?” he asked as he looked over at Trevor and Annette.

Annette nodded. “A horrible beast attacked us. Trevor fended it off, though he got bit in the arm.”

“Let me see that bite,” Aralan ordered, approaching Trevor.

Trevor shot him a glare, a quick sting of pain flaring up in his back. “Like hell I’ll-”

“That’s enough playtime, shithead,” Christopher’s voice echoed from within.

“No wait, you-” Trevor’s voice cut off.

Christopher shook his head, immediately hissing in pain. “What an annoying asshole,” he muttered.

“Oh?” Aralan eyed him, an amused smirk forming. “And who’s this? I’m guessin’ we haven’t met before.”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m Christopher,” he answered, eyeing the demon.

Aralan chuckled, taking his arm to examine the wound. “Aralan. Treat me with respect and we won’t have any problems.” Finished with his examination, he hovered a hand over the bite. After uttering a short phrase, a wave of chilling air descended over it. Before Christopher’s eyes, the wounds sealed themselves, leaving behind scars that were oddly blue in hue.

“Weird-ass magic. Thanks, though,” Christopher said as he inspected the scars.

“Can’t have you walkin’ around with holes in your arm,” Aralan lightheartedly commented.

“What’s happening with that owl’s face? It looks like it’s falling off,” Leon remarked, drawing Christopher’s attention to it.

“Is that a mask?” Christopher asked, standing up and walking over to the owl’s corpse. It was as Leon said, the owl’s face seemed misplaced on its head. Kneeling down, he took a hold of the end that was hanging off and pulled it. It seemed stuck, but when he pulled upward, it came off easily.

Underneath the mask was, strangely, a hole into the ‘owl’s’ hollow head. The material that made up its outer shell seemed to be stone. Maybe it was a statue of some sort.

“Huh. So it’s a golem,” Aralan commented as he walked over. “No wonder it felt like I was tryin’ to carve up stone. Stupid thing, I pro’lly have to sharpen this now,” he muttered, taking a moment to stare at the blade of his polearm. “Anyway, I just got some new errands to run in Hell. I trust that you’ll be able to follow the path east while I’m gone.”

“Alright. I should be fine,” Christopher said, gazing in the direction of the moon. That was east, right?

Aralan nodded in approval. “Give me the mask. I’ll take it to get appraised.” He held his hand out to receive the mask, which Christopher handed over without a fuss. Aralan tucked it into his bag. “Good. I’ll pro’lly be back in a few hours. Try not to get attacked out here.”

With that, Aralan hoisted up the stone body of the owl. The only sign of effort was a soft grunt. Afterward, both he and the owl disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

Christopher glanced over at Annette, gesturing for her to follow as he began walking in the direction that he assumed was east. “What’s your name? I’m not the same person you were probably chatting with earlier,” he explained.

Annette stared at him in confusion. “Annette. What exactly do you mean by that?”

“It’s a bit like,” he paused, thinking. “A bunch of spirits, souls, whatever live in this body. Seven of us, to be exact. I’m sure you’ll meet the rest of them if you stick around for long enough.”

“Oh. I hope I’ll become friends with all of you, then.” She smiled brightly. No wonder Trevor seemed so keen on her. Even Christopher couldn’t hate her for being friends with him.

Christopher only nodded in response, going quiet as they walked. What he did hate about her was how fucking much she looked like Charlotte. This normally would’ve been a good thing if it weren’t for Trevor. Now, all he had was a bitter taste that tainted every happy memory he had with her. Sure, murdering the two of them was a bit extreme, but what the hell was he supposed to do when he was so fucking mad? What made him even angrier was the twinge of guilt twisting in his gut.

“Calm yourself. The resemblance is only superficial. She acts nothing like what Charlotte acted like,” Leon reminded him. “Take a deep breath.”

Christopher took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Thanks. Anyway, what do you think of this world?” he asked.

“It’s rather fascinating. I’d love to learn more about the ‘magic’ that exists here. I wonder how it could be used to make money,” Leon pondered.

“Did you notice anything strange about Annette? She’s a bit uncanny.” Christopher then elaborated, “Her mouth doesn’t exactly match what she’s saying.”

“Maybe it’s related to that ‘golem’ thing Aralan mentioned,” Leon answered.

“Do you like doing anything, Christopher?” Annette asked. Seemed like she wanted to break the silence. “My favorite activities are painting and reading.”

Christopher glanced over at her. “Not really. My parents had me do a bunch of weird shit like fencing and archery, though. Gardening was pretty fun, I guess.”

“Gardening? So you grew plants? How delightful! You must have had quite the impressive garden,” she complimented.

“Er, maybe. When I moved out, I wasn’t able to bring all of the ones I was taking care of. My favorite was a red spider lily that I had since I met-” He cut himself off, scowling. “Nevermind.”

Annette tilted her head. “Is something wrong?”

“No. If you want to talk more, ask me about something else,” he stated bluntly.

She watched him, her brows furrowing in thought. “You mentioned that you fenced. Can you use a sword well?”

Christopher shrugged. “Maybe. I won a few regional tournaments and could’ve gone to nationals. Didn’t feel like it, though.”

“So you were the best swordsman in your region?” she questioned excitedly.

“You could say that,” Christopher answered bashfully. A light smile appeared on his face for once. For whatever reason, despite her similarity to Charlotte, talking with Annette was just relaxing. It almost felt like he’d known her for years.

“I feel much safer knowing that,” she said with a light giggle. “So, how good of an archer are you?”

Their idle chatter carried through the woods as they walked. Meanwhile, Mutae roughly kicked Rayan’s prone form.

“Up. I merely grazed you with that last hit. Stop acting as if you are more hurt than you are,” she berated him.

“We’ve been at this for a while. Can’t I take a break?” he begged.

Mutae snarled, kicking him onto his stomach and then stomping his back. “You may rest when you manage to knock me down.”

Rayan grunted. “You’re basically a mountain,” he spat. “No way I’ll be able to knock you down.” He flinched when she dug her heel into his back.

“Yes, it would be impossible with that mindset. Refine your movements. It will carry into your control of the body,” she instructed. With that, she lifted her foot from his back.

Somewhat fed up with her constant condescending attitude, he climbed to his feet and immediately sent a punch at her gut. She caught the sloppy strike, clicking her tongue in disappointment. Using her free hand, she drove her claws into his chest with enough force to send him flying back. He stared up at the black ‘sky’ where he landed, wondering if it was even worth it to get up again.

“Yo, Mutae. I learned some stuff about the demon,” Trevor called.

“Oh?” Mutae looked away from Rayan, crossing her arms. “What did you learn?”

A short sigh. “It’s not good. That thing’s fast. And it seems like it’s great with that polearm. Plus, we’ll have to find some way to take away its ability to just stun whoever’s in control with pain. Maybe we could have one of us take on the pain while the other controls the movements?” Trevor thought aloud.

“I am unsure if that is possible. Rayan is our best chance against it, but he is clearly not up to the task,” Mutae said with a frown.

“Why’s that? You’re plenty strong, you’d probably be able to beat it easily,” Trevor pointed out.

Mutae shook her head. “The limbs move nearly a full second after I will them to. I believe it is because it has been far too long since I last had a body for me to control it well. Rayan, on the other hand, controls it with natural ease.”

“So what you’re saying is you have high ping and don’t want to fight a demon when you’re lagging?” Trevor lightheartedly asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Nevermind. It’s just a thing from the world I used to live in. Anyway, I’ll let you go back to tormenting him. Hang in there, Rayan!” he called as he walked away. All he got in reply was an irate groan.

Christopher and Annette had settled into a comfortable silence. Leon occasionally spoke up, commenting on some of his observations.

“Hey, Christopher. The trees are thinning up ahead and I can see some faint lights. This might be the village,” Leon pointed out.

Christopher stopped walking. “Hey, Annette. Think we should wait for Aralan to come back? I don’t think I should go in there looking like this, and I don’t know how to disguise myself.”

Annette nodded. “Very well. You may rest and I’ll keep watch to make sure nobody sees you.”

“Yeah, resting seems like a good idea,” he agreed. Feeling like she would probably keep her end of the deal, he found a relatively comfortable place to lay down under a tree and closed his eyes.

Once she knew that he had fallen asleep, Annette softly walked over to him and sat by his sleeping form. “Christopher, huh? A poor, shattered heart. I’ll have my work cut out for me if I am to keep that soul from deteriorating,” she mused in a whisper.

“Remember, Ptazin. Do not reveal your direct involvement. Do not force them to accept help they do not want,” the wind whispered.

‘Annette’ nodded, gently brushing hair out of Christopher’s face. “Indeed, a subtle touch will be needed here,” she murmured.

The melodic chirping of the crickets affirmed this idea. Then, the wind passed on a second message, “Do not dispose of the demon. He will prove useful in time.”

‘Annette’ nodded again, closing her eyes. She wondered what God’s plan was, but she wouldn’t question it. After all, it had allowed her a second life to be reunited with Jean. What more could she have asked for?