POV Astral

Dezmond squeezed her shoulder as blues and purples flushed through his aura. Reds chased after purples, blending, pushing and pulling, while a narrow band of green pushed the colors outward of the aura’s halo, each working together to express the mission ahead. The Councilman took the lead of the conversation.

“Squad IX remains missing,” Dezmond cut to the thick of things. “The Gaming Commission has refused to relinquish the location of last year’s Championship game, and continues to present new and interesting obstacles. Short of an official Tribunal, we’ve hit a dead-end with them.”

Vincent nodded, acknowledging the statements as worried tendrils dampened his aura. “A Tribunal could cause panic…”

Dezmond nodded. “It is of political interest to avoid areas where we might look like fools. Ultimately, a Tribunal of such a serious nature will take years to resolve, if it gets resolved at all. The Council will actively make new laws, but it also allows our opposition to corrupt the sanctity of those laws through loopholes, negotiated over the long term. It’s a losing situation. As I’ve said, our politicians don’t like to be caught by surprise. They don’t like looking like they don’t know what they are doing. If there is corruption, they don’t want to look like they are involved. You know the sort, happy to take the credit if all goes well…”

“Even if we point out the mass deaths at the hands of the Gaming Commission’s neglect, that narrative will be distorted through one of cooperation and innovation over years of repeated messaging, eventually hiding the tragedy of decades,” Dezmond continued. “It’s all about framing the narrative. A dozen deaths this year isn’t as bad as the few hundred during Regime’s period.” He shook his head. “It’s not so bad…” he repeated bitterly, his pale gray stare growing hard and distant. “Meanwhile, we don’t solve the problem. If they’re feeding a demon, then we fail to purge that threat.”

“Who would do that?” A piece of Vincent’s soul cracked just a little more. Another betrayal.

Humans are flawed creatures. They hadn’t improved since the last time she had called the Human Realm home. In the name of personal survival, humanity was capable of such great evil that demons roared in entertained laughter. Those same demons had learned quickly that it didn’t take much to help a human take those few dark steps. Astral had known humanity to sacrifice one another for simple wants. She had no doubt that humanity would sacrifice cities worth of people if they believed survival was at stake.

“They aren’t sacrificing themselves,” Astral said. “They’re sacrificing someone else’s children to protect their own. In their mind, they’re protecting their families. It’s particularly relevant if they feel helpless in a system that’s predatory. Of course, the powers-that-be will never admit that they too are out for themselves. They’re just protecting their families. It’s nothing personal.” Venom oozed from her last sentence. She barely contained the resentful hiss in the words.

Dezmond’s lips twisted in a mix of disgust and sympathy. His cold gray eyes settled onto Astral as a torrent of black swept through the colors of his aura. She may have let it slip once or twice in prior conversations how she felt about the species as a whole.

She had sworn an oath to defend the planet from the false gods, the same oath that got the Dark Emperor killed. She’d defend humanity as a consequence of that oath, but she would not defend humanity from itself. She’d sit back and watch as the species cannibalized itself into oblivion, all in the name of Free Will. ‘What a wonderful gift that was.’ A small smile touched her lips.

“We should restrict the G.C’s access to the campus, and cancel the games indefinitely,” Vincent proposed.

Dezmond was silent for a moment. “We can’t. Right now, the Gaming Commission is our only lead into learning where that demon is. We don’t know who else knows or is involved. It’s possible they won’t make a move for years. However, if we embolden them, they might… they just might carry on.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Astral shook her head. “If a demon is at play, they can’t afford not making an offering. Not at this point,” she said. “Especially if they’ve been making yearly blood sacrifices. They might avoid making an offering this year, but only if they’re unaware of the consequences of doing so. All current members will be at high risk of death, as they are the ones who have inherited the contract over potential generations.” Astral shook her head again, sure they wouldn’t risk their own lives. “In the event someone survives, a new contract will be formed. And I assure you that the contract always favors the demon.”

Vincent arched his brow. Familiar speckles of yellow and orange dotted his aura.

“You’re your father’s daughter through and through,” Vincent said, a familial smile touched his lips, as longing memories shimmered blues and yellows in his aura. He missed his friend. It wasn’t long before the hidden history of her words landed, and his aura dimmed into a low simmer.

His gaze darted from her to Dezmond, and back to her. The lingering question caused waves of deep green to pull at his aura.

Dezmond placed a possessive hand on Astral’s shoulder, the weight of his desire for control over her did not go unnoticed. She pulled her shoulder from his hand, but allowed him to make excuses for her. She regretted none of her words. She didn’t want their resources spent chasing shadows. She didn’t want to spend any more time at the Academy, surrounded by her ‘peers’, than absolutely necessary. She damn well didn’t want to spend the next four years in this teenage purgatory.

“My grand-daughter is exceptionally gifted in theoretical demonology, in large part thanks to her father,” Dezmond smiled, hoping to lay the matter to rest.

“Alexander went off-grid shortly after his tours,” Vincent said, slowly stating that he wasn’t buying into Dezmond’s half-truth. “But he stayed in contact when he could. He mentioned this little firecracker of a toddler he had with him.” He smiled at Astral, remembering the snippets of her father’s communications. “Went dead I’d say about eight years back. Rumor has it, he had gone rogue.”

Dezmond didn’t bat an eye. “I wouldn’t know what Alexander was up to during that time. We didn’t have the best of relationships after… Well. I don’t blame him for hating me.” He paused his practiced acceptance. Most people would drop the subject at this point.

“She’s a survivor,” Vincent said outright. “Alexander told me as much.” He glanced at her, as guilt dimed his aura. “I’ll admit Lady Daamon, that I gave him some… cruel advice. Those words came from a place of fear. I know that now. I also know that some survivors come out changed. Like I did.”

He was referring to the fact that at some point during his war tour he had become a Hunter. He was implying the same of her. He knew already, even if it was at a subconscious level, he had felt her call. Why was Dezmond dancing around the facts?

Vincent called on the courage to state his point. “You can’t be sending a child to do this sort of work. I don’t care how gifted she is.” His hard gaze softened as it shifted back to Astral by way of apology. His hands drifted towards her, shaking. “You should live your life as best you can, and put this whole nightmare behind you. This is dangerous work. Heady work, filled with adult complications. There’s no reason for you to get involved. We don’t use child soldiers. We are not the Red Order.” He said firmly, risking the Councilman’s wrath.

Astral arched a brow, a smile touching her lips. Dezmond’s open and friendly persona had hardened. His decisions were not to be questioned by anyone. A job needed to be done, and he had the right tool for the job.

“I’m here of my own volition,” Astral said, before Dezmond could tear into the insubordinate man. “I’m the appropriate age for attendance. My status and rank mean that my enrollment into the games is expected. My status allows me the opportunity to negotiate entry without revealing my skills or intent outside of joining the games. And…” she let the word hang for a moment, nodding once to emphasize her certainty on her final point, “I’m too desirable a candidate for retribution. If the Gaming Commission were to learn that my attendance at the Academy is temporary, say for the year, they would have no choice but to make a move.”

“This is your plan?” Vincent doubted her claim. “It’s clever, I’ll give you that. But I’m not keen on using a child.”

Astral shrugged, dismissing the challenges of the Academy’s current predicament. “I’m just as happy to remove my application, and focus on purging the nest forming in the Barren Wastes. I’ll be fighting demons regardless of your feelings about it.” Then added, because the horror on Vincent’s face told her that it needed saying. “By my own volition.”

“I insist on remaining involved in all steps of your mission, Lady Daamon,” the headmaster said. “I have friends stationed within the campus who will be of service to us. To you. You are to only access places where we cannot go,” His worried gaze shifted from Astral to Dezmond, who nodded in approval.

“You are not to engage the demon,” Dezmond agreed. ”Should you locate the demon, you will report your findings directly to me.”

That was a fool’s request if she had ever heard one. Once a demon manifests the choices are simple: fight or die.