Silent hours passed with nothing but the nighttime ambiance. Wind rustled through the leaves that filtered moonlight onto the ground below. Annette could see the delicate wings of moths fluttering in the light. The swarm scattered mere moments before a cloud of black smoke announced Aralan’s arrival.
“Back. That took longer than I thought it would,” he grumbled, approaching the two. A strange white cloth was draped over his folded wings. “Is he asleep?”
Annette nodded. “He was tired after our travels, so we decided to rest while we waited for you. He said he does not know how to disguise himself.”
Aralan pursed his lips. “Yeah, I guess. Fresh imp like that wouldn’t know.”
Christopher shot awake from a stinging pain in his back, looking in confusion from Annette to Aralan. “Oh, you’re back.”
“Mm-hm. I even got you some gifts,” the demon said rather proudly. “If you can, could you call Rayan out for me?”
“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do,” Christopher muttered half-heartedly. “He won’t be in the best mood, just warning you.”
“Oh, even better,” Aralan remarked as he sorted through his bag.
“Hey, Mutae, can you let Rayan off the hook for a bit? Aralan wants him,” Christopher explained.
He could swear he heard an irritated growl which sent a shudder down the back of his neck.
“Very well. You may let him take control,” Mutae answered. She didn’t sound happy about it.
Rayan took control, very grateful to not have to deal with Mutae for a while. He felt exhausted. He had lost track of how many times he’d sparred with her so far, but it felt like he’d been knocked onto the ground at least a hundred times. Needless to say, his patience had worn away long ago.
“Well, what do you want?” he snapped.
Aralan cackled. “Nice to hear from you again, Rayan. I got you some gifts,” he restated, pulling some folded cloth out from his bag. On top of it was a pair of boots. He then held it toward him with a grin.
Rayan took the pile, eyeing it suspiciously. “Clothes, right?”
“Yep! You can go behind a tree or somethin’ to change into ‘em,” Aralan waved him off as he spoke.
Rayan walked behind a thick-trunked tree to change out of his glorified rags and into the actual clothes. The shirt was tight, but not uncomfortably so. Of course, there was a pair of openings on the back for the wings he didn’t have anymore. The pants and boots were comfortable and plain.
Now dressed in proper clothes, he stepped out from behind the tree. Aralan looked him over, nodding in approval. “The cloth is a bit special, it’ll adjust to your size. Succubi use it the most to avoid gettin’ rips from enlarging their ‘assets’,” Aralan explained. “It was a bit hard to find a shirt that wasn’t just a bikini.”
“Thanks, very thoughtful,” Rayan muttered sarcastically. Really, it wouldn’t be a problem if someone didn’t insist on changing the body so extensively.
“Oh, a couple more things,” Aralan said cheerfully. He stepped behind Rayan, fishing something else out of his bag. He then lowered what looked like a mask over Rayan’s face, tying the straps behind his head.
Rayan blinked, reaching up to tap the mask. “What’s this for? Decoration?”
“No, it has a little bit of an enchantment on it. Should make it a bit easier for you to cast spells, or make them more powerful when you do. I wasn’t payin’ enough attention,” Aralan admitted. Finally, he shrugged off the cloth that had been draped over his wings. He instead put it on Rayan like a cloak, fastening two buckled straps in front of his neck. “There! You look like a little owl, your colors even match.”
Rayan glanced back, noticing that the cloak was split in two toward the middle. And at the ends, large feathers gave it a distinctly wing-like appearance. “Oh, very funny. Is this your way of making amends for cutting my wings off?”
What Aralan did next sent a shock through his system. He flinched as the taller demon reached up toward his head and ruffled his hair. This contact burned like fire, making it hard for him to breathe and dredging up memories of old scars. Dark eyes, brown hair, a patchy beard, the stench of cigarette smoke. Involuntarily trembling, he shrunk from the demon’s touch.
“Oh, that’s interestin’,” Aralan commented, snickering as he noted Rayan’s reaction. “Maybe I should do this instead of usin’ the subjugation rune,” he mused.
“Please don’t,” Rayan pleaded, whispering.
Annette stepped in, taking a hold of Aralan’s arm and pulling it away from Rayan. “I don’t believe that exploiting a fear like that is a way to earn loyalty,” she asserted.
Aralan fixed her with a glare. “Fine, spoilsport. Seein’ him squirm like that was funny, at least.” He yanked his hand away from her. “Might as well use the disguise spell now.”
With a short incantation and a hand pointed to himself, Aralan’s appearance changed. His horns, tail, and wings disappeared, his hair darkened into black, and his eyes darkened into a light blue. He then repeated the incantation with his hand pointed toward Rayan.
Already hyperconscious of physical sensations, he felt like his horns and tail got sucked back into his body quite painfully. A stinging was left in their wake, yet he barely noticed that his skin and hair were gaining color. When he did look, he saw that his skin was now a rather fair tone. He could only assume his hair was now blonde, considering the disguise went to the closest natural color.
“Great! Now we can see what’s goin’ on in the village!” Aralan announced, turning on his heel to march onward.
Rayan reached up, gripping onto the edge of the mask. He didn’t know what it was, but something was off about it.
“The demon no longer needs you. Allow someone else to take control and we will resume our sparring,” Mutae ordered.
Rayan’s blood froze, but he really couldn’t argue with the dragoness. “Yeah, alright,” was his reply. What he really wanted to do was just ignore her. He didn’t have that luxury, though.
Christopher returned to control, already feeling a bit bad for Rayan for what promised to be continually painful ‘training’. That was a pretty loose term when it was really just Mutae beating the shit out of him.
Aralan took a glance over his shoulder. “Aw, why’d you take the mask and cloak off? I thought they were cute,” he teased.
Christopher raised his brow. “What?”
“Oh, Rayan had to go?” Aralan asked.
Christopher nodded.
“Perhaps they’re magical artifacts that only bind to a single soul. That would explain them disappearing when Rayan isn’t present,” Annette thought aloud.
“Halt! You people are travelers, correct?” a voice called from closer to the town.
Christopher looked out from behind Aralan to see who was speaking. It was an armored woman holding a lantern. On her back was a spear. A few strands of rather dark hair peeked out from the sides of her helmet, the rest of it probably tied back.
“Yep! We saw that a village was nearby, so we decided to keep on goin’ until we reached it,” Aralan explained.
The woman stepped closer, holding her lantern up to examine each of them in turn. Her brows furrowing in concern, she commented, “You look dangerously unprepared for travelers. You’re lucky that you managed to get here before the monsters of the night got to you.”
“I’m sure that you would have rushed to our aid in the event that we fell under attack,” Annette complimented with a smile.
“Heh, of course. It’s my duty to protect people, after all,” the guard stated. A bashful grin showed under her helmet for a moment. “Anyway, it isn’t much, but the Thundercrags keep a decent inn. It’s a large building by the well in the center of town called Roc’s Rest. Don’t mind the daughter if you run into her, though.”
“Thanks, we’ll keep that in mind. Seeya later, maybe,” Aralan waved as he walked past her to enter the village proper.
As Christopher walked past the guard and nodded to her, he could swear he heard her mutter ‘a child?’. After only a short distance of walking, she called out to them, “Oh, and don’t forget to buy some supplies!”
Annette looked over her shoulder. “Of course we will! Thank you for your concern for us!” she replied.
The village seemed to be mostly comprised of peoples’ homes on the outskirts. Farmers, Christopher assumed. There were large fields around, after all. Farther in, the homes got somewhat larger in size. He wasn’t sure what the people here did.
“Never seen a village like this back home,” Aralan commented, looking around at the dark homes. “People usually just live in the capitals or wander in small groups.”
“Oh? That sounds fascinating. What are the capitals like?” Annette asked.
Aralan sent her a sideways glance. “Hellish. They’re not as bad if you’re strong, at least. You rarely see weaker demons in ‘em.”
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“Is it correct that you are practiced in the sword, Christopher? I believe that you could assist me with Rayan,” Mutae quite suddenly spoke, making Christopher jump.
“Er- yeah, maybe. Not sure if I’d be much help,” he answered.
“Excellent, any help would be appreciated. Have someone else take over for now,” she ordered.
“Hey, Leon, could you-”
Christopher didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Leon took over the body. With a single look around, a distasteful expression settled on his face. Being dumped in a primitive place like this was rather demeaning, but he wouldn’t complain audibly.
“Make sure not to push yourself too hard,” he reminded Christopher. “I know that you have a hard time adjusting to new people.”
“I’ll manage, he’s not too much of a dumbass,” Christopher assured him.
Leon let out a short sigh, sparing a glance at the demon and the doll in front of him. They certainly were odd company to keep. At least the doll seemed to have good intentions, unlike the demon. That was to be expected, though. Demons were considered evil beings for a reason.
“Oh, nice. This looks like the inn,” Aralan remarked as he approached a rather large building. A quick look at the wooden sign confirmed this: it was indeed Roc’s Rest.
The demon entered the building, quickly followed by Annette and Leon. Inside, it was nice and cozy. Nobody was at the desk, however, probably because of how late it was. It made sense, no sane or normal travelers would arrive in a town at this hour.
Not dissuaded by the lack of anyone manning the desk, Aralan walked over to it and picked up a bell that was resting on the surface. He rang it, hoping to attract the attention of or wake up the innkeeper.
A surprised shout came from a room in the back of the building, followed by a thud. After a few minutes, an older woman came out to the front desk. She was in a nightgown, though she had hastily put on some shoes. Since it was dark, she was carrying a candle in a holder to light the way.
“Oh, some travelers burning the midnight oil. I’m guessing you’d like to rent a room or two,” she yawned as she spoke, reaching up to neaten her blonde hair somewhat.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” Annette asked, concerned. “I heard a thud after the bell was rung.”
The woman blearily looked over at Annette, taking her position behind the desk and setting the candle down. “Oh, of course. I’ve fallen down from higher before,” she remarked with a laugh. “Anyway, our rate is one silver for a room for the night. And we don’t accept that fancy paper money here.”
Aralan scowled for a moment. “Two rooms, I guess.” Fishing through his bag, he found two silver coins and set them on the surface of the desk. “You’ll take these, right?”
“Hmm? I’ll check,” the woman said as she picked up one of the coins to inspect it. “Yes, these will do.”
She set the coin back on the desk, reaching down and opening a drawer to retrieve something. She put two keys on the desk, each with a tag that showed which room the key unlocked.
“Here you go, enjoy your stay. We’ll serve breakfast in the morning,” she said, picking the coins up and shuffling back to her bedroom.
Aralan picked the keys up, holding one to Annette. “You can have your own room. Don’t wanna sleep with us, right?” he teased, snickering.
Annette giggled in return, taking the key. “Of course. Can’t put a lady in the same room as a pair of boys. Let’s find the rooms now.”
It didn’t take long to find the numbered rooms that matched the keys. Annette unlocked her door and went in, waving to Aralan and Leon. “Goodnight, sleep well you two.”
Aralan unlocked the other door. “Haven’t slept in a while. Don’t need to, but it might be nice to rest for a bit.” Going in, he examined the room. Leon followed him in.
The room was cozy with a double bed in the middle, a desk and chair, and a dresser. It was way too small for Leon’s liking. After all, it was the size that his bathroom had been, maybe even smaller. Scowling, he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. At least it was rather soft.
Aralan walked over to the other side of the bed, laying on his side and bringing his bag around to hold it protectively. “Weird that your eyes changed color even when you’re disguised. Maybe it has somethin’ to do with which spirit’s in control.”
“Oh?” Leon looked over his shoulder, turning to eye the demon. “What color are they?”
“A yellowish-gold color. What’s your name?”
“Leon. Are you trying to attach a name to each color?”
“Yep. Could be useful later on, dunno,” Aralan explained, stretching languidly before wrapping his arms around his bag again. “We should pro’lly ask around for rumors. Might lead us to some fun things to do.”
“A bar would be a good place to start. Lots of people gather there, and the barkeeper is sure to have overheard many conversations,” Leon suggested.
Aralan smirked, propping himself up on one hand. “You seem pretty sharp. Any more advice?”
Leon sighed, turning around fully and sitting cross-legged on the bed to avoid straining his neck. “Of course. If you want rumors that are more local, ask the farmers who work closer to the forest. They’re more likely to be superstitious. And if you want a chance at hearing foreign rumors, the innkeepers might’ve heard some from travelers.”
Aralan blinked. “Huh. I’ll keep that in mind. Guess you’re the person to ask if I want advice.”
Leon narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and resting his head on his hand. “You’re a demon that’s likely many centuries old. I thought you would have more knowledge than me.”
A grimace appeared on the demon’s face. “Tsk. I’m not that good with people stuff. Wanderin’ alone for a few centuries will do that to you.”
“So we’re your first company in a long time?”
Aralan only nodded in response to that, turning over onto his other side. “Oh, and make sure not to change how you look while we’re here. I’m not sure if shifters are accepted in this world.”
With that, the demon went quiet. Leon watched him for a couple seconds before taking the backpack off and setting it on the floor by the bed. Turning around again, he took the boots off as well before laying down on his back. He closed his eyes, focusing inward.
“-pretty good at moving. Guess you have Mutae to thank for that,” Christopher said.
Rayan regained his footing after sidestepping Christopher’s downward swing. Despite being in his spiritual form, the mask and cloak appeared to be on him. With a frustrated grunt, he dashed forward to jab Christopher’s stomach with the practice sword.
Christopher easily avoided it, whacking Rayan on the back with the hilt end of his own sword. “You’ve got a lot of work to do at landing attacks, though.”
Rayan was knocked into the ground, sighing heavily. “You’re almost as bad as her.”
Christopher stared at him, then snorted. “I’m almost as bad as Mutae? Fucking really? Miss ‘We’ll do this a thousand times over’?”
“Yes,” Rayan groaned, pushing himself back up.
“And I thought I was doing you a favor, giving you a break from her before she beats the shit out of you over and over again,” Christopher remarked with amusement.
“Let’s get back to it before she scolds us for doing nothing but talking,” Rayan said as he readied his sword.
Christopher nodded with a grin, raising his sword as well. He quickly closed the distance between them, going for his usual downward swing.
Instead of dodging like he almost always did, Rayan blocked it with his own sword. He held one hand up to support the other side as he did so, knowing Christopher would have enough strength to get through the block.
“Blocking’s a good idea if the other person doesn’t have a hand free,” Christopher explained. With his free hand, he shoved Rayan back.
Gasping in shock, Rayan staggered away from Christopher in a panic. He visibly trembled as he held himself.
Christopher stared in confusion. “Are you alright?”
“Don’t- don’t touch me,” Rayan snapped.
Confusion was quickly replaced with concern. Christopher’s eyebrows furrowed. “I- alright? But people are gonna touch you, especially when you’re fighting them.”
“Just don’t do that again,” Rayan quickly said.
Christopher crossed his arms. “Fine. How come you didn’t freak out on Mutae, then? I’m sure she touched you while she was beating the shit out of you,” he pointed out, wanting to learn more.
Rayan hugged himself, sending a glare at Christopher. “I’m fine when women do it, but,” he trailed off, his gaze drifting downward, “not with men.”
Christopher let out a long sigh, dropping his arms. “I guess we’ll stop for now. Do you wanna talk about it, maybe?”
“Not at all. It’s just depressing to think about.” His eyes snapped back upward. He recognized that disgusting look of ‘concern’. He didn’t like talking about it because of that look, but even if he didn’t talk about it, it still appeared.
“Are you sure?” Christopher inquired before adding on, “I don’t know you too well, but you’ve obviously got something you need to let out.”
“You’re right, you don’t know me too well. So it’s none of your business,” Rayan sharply stated.
Christopher clicked his tongue in irritation. “Fine. Guess that’s what I get for trying to fucking care,” he muttered. “Have fun with Mutae, I’ll let her know we’re done here for now.”
Rayan let himself flop backward into a sitting position, resting the practice sword on his lap. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.
“Hey, you alright?” Chelsea’s familiar voice asked.
Rayan opened his eyes again to look at her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
She crossed her arms, a coy smile lighting her face. “Uh-huh. I totally believe you. Like I didn’t hear you snapping at Christopher.” This provoked a scowl from Rayan. “We know each other pretty well, shared our worst secrets. Can’t you trust me to know this?”
He turned his gaze away from her. She did have a point. “Alright, fine. Just don’t tell anyone else, I don’t want them treating me like some poor kid,” he demanded.
Chelsea nodded, grinning. “Of course, I won't tell another soul. So, what happened to you?”
Rayan fidgeted, intertwining and squeezing his fingers. “Well, lots of things. I couldn’t tell you all of them. Don't remember it all. My mom and dad had to work a lot when I was young, so they had my uncle take care of me and my brother,” he explained. With a pause to collect his thoughts, he then stated simply, “Adults usually aren’t supposed to hit kids or yell at them over nothing.”
Chelsea reached up, covering her mouth with her hand. “Wow, that’s,” she paused, “that’s horrible. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”
“Don’t treat me differently now that you know. And again, don’t tell anyone else,” he restated.
“Yeah, of course. If you need to talk to someone, know that I’m here,” she reassured him.
Rayan only gave a nod in response.
“It is time to resume your training, Rayan,” Mutae said as she approached.
He looked up at her, a resigned sigh escaping his lips as he got up from his sitting position. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Keep that practice sword in hand, I want you to use it during this session,” Mutae instructed. Then, she looked over at Chelsea. “You may stay here if you wish to.”
Chelsea nodded, walking away from the two. She didn’t want to get in the middle of this, after all. “Sure, I guess it’d be good to have something to watch.”
Rayan groaned. “An audience, great.”
A cheeky smile showed up on Chelsea’s face. “Bold of you to assume that the others haven’t been watching in secret.”
“Enough idle chatter,” Mutae stated as she walked a small distance away from Rayan. “Face me, and let us begin.”