Chapter 6

Arthur sat outside, gazing up at the infinite sprawl of roots that spanned endlessly in all directions. His gaze, lidded and contemplative, following along the twisting vine-like trails of softly pale silver light, the slowly twisting and weaving expanse above him a curiosity that hadn't yet lost its captivity over him. This universe had no stars or moons or, any other celestial bodies that he could speak of, save of course, for the great roots that travelled through the cosmos and the worlds that hung below them, each as a blue-green dewdrop or sandy bauble hanging from a leaf.

By day, the colossal root system seemed to emanate a near-blinding radiance that, while less brutal than the sun, was still harsh to behold for any great length of time. It was this realm's source of light, warmth, the signal of a newly dawned day and, in its absence, its conclusion. Then, by nightfall, the roots transitioned, shifting from their radiant glow to a more subdued and peaceful glittering hue that, no matter how many times Arthur saw it, reminded him precisely of a moonlit night. It was simultaneously eerie how similar things in this—realm all worked when compared to how it did in the universe that existed back home… yet also undeniably beautiful and awe-inspiring to behold.

It wasn't lost on Arthur as to which system appeared to have definitive edge… as, where his own galaxy felt cold and uninviting, hostile and cruel with life seeming as though it were little more than an afterthought or, stray chance in the wind, this place felt almost—designed… A universe meant to allow life to flourish in all its forms, let it develop and propagate, spread as far and wide as one had the means and imagination to do so and—honestly, Arthur found himself wondering if he’d ever want to go back, even if he could. He’d hardly been here half a month, but already, he could say he was having the time of his life… Family and everything it entailed had been a—tough pill to swallow at first… however, Arthur had long since gotten used to being alone… sad as it sounded, even to his own mind.

Still, despite its shortcomings, comparing how much fun he’d been having as of late against the—mundane and simple life he’d lived in the woods, that, while better than what he’d had before, was—less than what he had now… Honestly, he wasn't sure if he could ever—go back… mentally, that was… And It had been a sobering thought once manifesting in his mind, worming its way through his subconscious like the whispers of dissonance until he could scarcely ignore the truth glaring at him right in the eyes… Arthur—liked it here… and, sure, there were pet peeves and issues, yet for the most part, he was—content.

He sipped at the cold beer held lazily by its neck while enjoying the peace that was a night filled with sparkling wonders that nipped at the flame of his anticipation, wondering, despite how far away such a goal might be, if he might one day find himself flying between those countless worlds above and, discover what they had to offer. Would they be like this one? Were they as large as Earth was back home? Larger even? Were the biomes as diverse or were they singular, sort of how the more desert ones kind of looked? And what of the people there? Arthur already knew that elves existed somewhere in this new realm, but what of dwarves and orcs, goblins, dragons and all the assorted other fantasy-based races his people had dreamed of… Granted, it was all speculation at this point but he earnestly couldn't help but ponder the sheer scope of it all! His stomach fluttering with butterflies!

Yet, his musings weren't to be the focal point of his whole evening as, with a now familiar impact that he’d grown to expect, a figure manifested through the gloom, revealing the cool expression of a once terrifying demoness who now nodded at him with something nearing friendship through the flames.

“Come to liberate me of my poor, waning supply of alcohol, are you?” He joked, waving the near-empty bottle in her direction as she raised a quizzical sculpted brow.

She didn't say a word to the contrary either as she sauntered across his yard, dipping an elegant and cruel-looking hand into the troff of icey beverages before seating herself on a stump she’d, at some point, dragged over for herself. He’d initially offered her one of his camping chairs; however, after a brief inspection of its make, Dianna had rightly noted that it probably wouldn't have held her without falling apart. Though that was fine enough as her tail seemed somewhat more at home with stool-like seating to begin with and the woman herself appeared perfectly at ease with her chosen seat as much as he was with his own. She popped the bottle while giving him a meaningful glance, then, purposefully allowed her gaze to slip between them and, into the ice-filled metal tub, which, always seemed to replenish itself before the following night, no matter how much damage either party imparted upon its reservoir.

“If I didn't know better.” The demoness mused, “Then I’d of sworn that bucket is as full as it was at the beginning of the week. One might almost be inclined to think that its purpose stands less as an offering of comradery, as it has been so portrayed, and more as a lure.”

“And what, in you're—experience, does booze even manage to catch?”

Dianna snorted, not bothering to offer much by way of a reply, even as she upended her first bottle and drained it of its contents as though she were at a competition to see who could chug the fastest. There was already a new bottle in hand, cap flying into the distance when she let out a contented sigh of relief. Clearly appreciative of the drink and its—potency while visibly relaxing, wings unfurling to stretch and shake themselves, the tips grazing Arthur’s arm in a way that he knew was purposeful. He’d seen the degree of control the bal had over their extremities and, was in no way disillusioned that the demon beside him didn't know what she was doing.

Shrugging and pretending he didn't notice the contact, Arthur changed gears, using his bottle to point in the general direction of the village. “So, how goes the efforts?”

“To make that miserable derelict our new home? Awful, though I’d of suspected that to be plain enough to see for any with eyes. We don't have much, as I'm sure you are abundantly aware of. Which,” She added, her tone sardonic as she continued. “Is why I was so surprised when Tulla mentioned you wanted to trade.” She laughed after that, the echo of her bitter but musical voice bouncing off the trailer as she took another swig of her drink and stared at Arthur pointedly. “I’ve seen what my daughter has brought back with her to spite her aunt, don't think for a moment I don't know where it's come from either. So far as I can tell, you are far better off than we are by an entire order of magnitude. Truly, were it not for Tavir and, my own interest in you, I suspect you’ve of found yourself raided and soon devoid of all these pleasantries you—so enjoy out here alone.”

“I—in all fairness, warned her not to rub it in…” Arthur tried, feeling perhaps just a bit sheepish as he—reminded himself of the settlement's situation.

“And you expected her to listen?” The demon barked, laughing with earnest glee. “She is a young woman Arthur, and one who has discovered a resource both rich and that she currently has sole access to. She’s been dispensing baskets of strawberries and bundles of carrots as though she were some pained lord who can't help but ail the poor peasantry scraping in the shit and dirt below her.”

“It's… not that bad, is it?”

Dianna just levelled Arthur with a mocking stare, reaching out to retrieve a brilliant ripe apple that her tail had speared, plucking it from just one of the many trees Arthur had—encouraged to grow over the past several days. He watched her take a lethargic bite of the fruit, enjoying the way she clearly approved of its flavour, even though it disappeared in four lazy snaps. “Yesterday was the first time in nearly three years that I’ve eaten an apple you know. And, curiously enough, I find my memory failing to recall if I’ve ever had sweeter.”

Arthur wasn't entirely sure how an eight-foot-tall demonic woman could make eating an apple in little more than a handful of bites sensual but, he definitely had to avert his gaze while she did so, eyes almost smouldering while they watched him like a hunter might a small animal. It didn't help that the type of demon she so closely resembled was of a decidedly, non-pg-thirteen variety but, thinking about that certainly didn't help either.

“W-well, she is sharing then at least, yes?” He awkwardly stumbled, reaching down for another beer and, finding Dianna’s hand was already there.

She hardly reacted to their brief touch as she procured yet another drink, even though her fingers seemed to almost—brush over his own, retrieving her prize without giving the strange game between them away. Given her size, and now that she was getting used to it again, she drank considerably more than he did to maintain the same degree of a buzz. So, it was often that she found herself rooting around for more beer while he was still finishing his own. After shrugging while holding his eye for a span longer than his warming cheeks could handle, Dianna leaned back and sighed with an almost weary cast.

“Sharing is a strong word. Monoplising would better suit it. Though there is no danger yet, it would be beneficial to remind yourself that, to be a have within such a small community of have-nots does not breed comradery.”

“I'm touched you think I'm part of the settlement already.” Arthur grinned, though, catching the woman's glare, his grin eased. “No need to say it; I know what you're implying. Trust me, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to sort of nip that potential issue in the bud, which was why I mentioned my desire to trade.”

“And what would you trade for?” Dianna scoffed, tone approaching the condescending. “If you wish to spread you're mysterious wealth around then, by all means, spread away; however, charity beneath the guise of genuine transaction won't win you any friends when it would be so clearly a sham. We are not a stupid people Arthur. What you see us at is likely our lowest, and it is not by choice but duty and honor that we find ourselves here.”

“Yeah? So then what's the solution huh? And, before you go and assume that I’m trying to be an ass about everything, I actually did have honest intentions going into this conversation. It’s not like there aren't things I don't find myself in need of…”

“I'm sure…”

Arthur glared at the sarcastic response he received, doing his best to rein in his growing frustration as he tried to divert it towards something more productive. He got it, after all, it wasn't like he’d never been poor… Sure, his parents were wealthy once their loans and debts had been all paid off, but Arthur had pretty much spat in their faces and put himself through the last years of college on his own after their—falling out… His independence had cost him dearly, and, primarily by way of what most would name a fairly easy life… Trading a family condo for a roach-infested dorm, allowance for whatever pennies he could scrape together with the earnest prayer they’d multiply… He knew what it was like to be destitute and contemplative if food was the priority over a roof. The fact he was better off than those in the nearby settlement, and by an evident wide margin when compared with each other, wasn't his problem, but neither was he above offering to help where he could.

“Do you want to hear what I have to offer and why I need you're assistance or, not?” He ground out, right at the precipice of giving it all up.

Dianna observed him for a time, features growing thoughtful as she stared, the firelight casting across her noble features before she eventually nodded her head, gesturing with a taloned hand for him to take the stage and explain what he had in mind.

Deciding not to bother with semantics or, the why of it all, Arthur decided to just cut to the chase, figuring that his guest would likely respond better to a more direct approach than if he were to dance around it all like he was, admittedly, prone to do. “I need an intermediary for trade, not,” Arthur held up a hand, forestalling the giant demon's first thoughts on the matter, “for trading with you're community, but with the nearest gathering of real civilization that might have what I'm looking for.”

Tilting her head, Dianna’s expression slipped into a slightly pensive frown, regarding him for a span before nodding slowly with growing understanding. “You have no means to reach such a location on you're own…” The demoness mused, a long and bladed finger brushing across her chin. “And, you’d be willing to pay those who act in such a manner for their time, I presume, quite handsomely to ensure there aren't any hard feelings lingering about?”

Arthur simply snapped his fingers, smiling as he pointed at her, taking a deep drink from his beer as he watched Dianna consider the proposition as it stood. Then, she smiled as well, gleaming white fangs on full display as her tail shifted behind her, moving to snake its way nearer towards Arthur’s person as she leaned forward, leathers creaking as she did so. Arthur felt something—coil around his chair, slowly sliding behind him, the thin fabric hardly dampening the sensation as it moved; then, Dinna’s tail was gliding over him, its weighty length all but slithering across his lap to hang leisurely off the other side while her toothy grin practically ravenous as she watched him cooly.

“And you, a random wizard upon the fringes of society itself, would claim to have enough disposable wealth to make such an endeavour worth it for all parties involved, would you? Pray tell, what could a lonely hermit upon the edge of nowhere present the likes of those living within a city for barter?”

“Spices.” Arthur chirped confidently, grinning as he called the demon's bluff and placed a hand upon the anaconda-like and heavy appendage resting on him. Now that it wasn't trying to murder him, Arthur was even surprised to find it was rather smooth and, nearly reptilian, scaled with countless tiny diamonds that he could just make out the groves of as he explored it.

Dianna just smiled even wider at him, pulling back away as she sat upright again, though Arthur noted that she did not remove her tail. “Spices…” She parroted, voice sinfully sweet. “A rare commodity indeed, even in a city. Perhaps not back on Ivandir or any of the older colonies, but, here, a fortune, I'm sure… Were I to ask, would you share where this—windfall you claim to possess arrived from?”

“The garden.”

“You're garden…” The demoness laughed, her joviality almost boisterous. “Next, you'll tell me you're willing to share half the potential profits for nothing more than you're bleeding heart.”

Dianna’s tail slipped from his lap as she chuckled at the mere thought, looking as though she were about to wrap this all up and take her daughter home before Arthur stood, winking at her as he passed. He felt her eyes steadily upon him as he wistfully wandered over to a sort of—side project he’d been working on, lifting the top of a pristine white box, more or less just a storage bin in actuality, but one that had been built with a modular self-connecting tile he’d been messing around with in his spare time. Inside, he lifted a small satchel and, walking back over, dug around inside for one of the even smaller pouches he’d prepared for this very meeting. Grinning at Dianna’s narrowed eyes, Arthur handed over one of the small burlap bags, the one he’d filled with salt, yes it technically wasn't a spice per se, but he’d included it all the same, and, as it was a mineral, making it was easy. After a moment, Dianna opened the drawstring without preamble, glancing inside before reaching in to retrieve a pinch so delicate Arthur might have never believed the woman with such—large and taloned hands were capable had he not seen it himself. Then a long and almost serpentine tongue extended outwards, its absurd length actually catching him off guard for a heartbeat as Dianna released the nail-full and her expression twisted into a frown.

“Now, this one.” Arthur urged, this time offering cinnamon.

It only took him another two pouches before Dianna finally seemed to get the point he was trying to make and declined to taste another. Instead, she watched him with a degree less flippancy as the first thought that had crossed her mind arrived almost unbiddenly. “How much?”

“Do I have? An entire satchel of each. Am I willing to share? Well, as you so suggested, Dianna, It would be rude of me not to offer half now, wouldn't it?”

He’d sort of expected some sort of snark or even a sneer for throwing it all back in her face with as much smug satisfaction as he’d offered, yet instead, the demon merely nodded her head at him, mind somewhere else while he was left with a sort of—hollow foolishness about him that saw Arthur feeling partially off-balance. He’d wanted to manage some sort of rise out of the woman for all she seemed to keen on taunting him; however, he found that instead, a lingering fog that had separated them all this time lifted. Dianna’s countenance shifted ever so slightly that it was practically imperceptible to catch. And, as he sat back down, wondering what it was she was thinking about, he wasn't necessarily prepared for her tail to find its way back across him, only, this time, it coiled with a nervously, almost possessive intent. Wrapping rather than just lounging as it had before…

“It’ll be a near two weeks before Kilk and Jade here get back.” Tavir proclaimed to the crowd, patting the younger man on the shoulder as the pair he’d chosen to lead the expedition towards the city doublechecked each other’s packs and straps for the second time in as many minutes. The large ex-centurion grinned as the bal before him stood a fraction taller, smirking at his old commander with an air of joviality that Tavir hadn't seen within his command for some time.

“Two weeks for you, maybe, but the lot of us are still young! We’ll have this list ‘o goods all loaded up and outbound for home within days, mark my words.”

“No, we won't, sir.” Jade interrupted, elbowing her mate in the ribs as she cleared her throat to drown out his protest. “We’ll make sure to take things slow and steady, just like you taught us. I promise you won't regret placing your faith with me.”

“With us.” Kilk shot back, glaring at his mate, who was disinclined to meet his eye.

“I'm sure you both know what’s at stake here.” Tavir offered, placing a hand on both their shoulders as he glanced over the half dozen youths before him. “That goes for you all. You were the best of the best in the legion, and now you're the best of the best here. Keep it safe, and tell anyone who wants a bribe to fuck off. You're legionnaires, not civies, even if we were all retired.” The group before him nodded, their cold and cruel smiles, each doubtlessly imagining getting to break some fingers along the way, the sight of which was warming his cold, cold heart. “Remember.” He continued, squeezing meaningfully as he leaned into his two commanders, voice lowering as the rambunctious soldiers behind them laughed and chattered, spirits soaring with the prospect of real wealth sitting right at the edge of the fingers.

“Items marked with red are the highest priority, especially those circled, sir.” Jade twittered, cutting him off before he could continue and nearly bringing a tear to Tavir’s eye for the crispness of her reply. He’d trained these children well, of that, he’d never doubt himself.

Still, they were young, comparatively, of course, and as such, that meant questions weren't to be unexpected.

“Sir…” Kilk murmured, his eyes glancing at the packs meticulously strapped to his mate. “Is this—really all from the traveller outside the village?”

“It is. And he is paying us a premium to see it safely sold in the city and for his cargo to be returned with utmost care and professionalism.”

“But—half, sir?”

“Aye, half.”

“It's absolutely too much…” Jade stated, voicing the opinions of everyone privy to the situation.

Tavir couldn't help but nod. However, though some might not have caught on to it, he was more than well aware of just how much time his niece was spending outside the village and not on her own. More and perhaps too much grander significance was how much of her time his sister-in-law was spending out here as well. Though he had his suspicions on the matter, the blatant charity involved here was plain enough writing on the walls if one knew how to read it.

The fact that it had been Dianna herself who’d approached him on Arthur’s behalf was—telling. Still, he didn't voice his theories aloud, improper as gossip about one's own family was. Instead, Tavir merely nodded at the two with confidant certainty. “The man is trying to make an allie of us. Trust an old soldier on this matter and take it to heart that this is not a gift,” he stated, voice rising as he peered around himself at the others who were listening very intently. “It is a downpayment for our friendship!” He barked, meeting each of his men and women by the eye as he spoke, “And the potential beginning of a lucrative business venture. Now, best you lot set off before the morning grows too late; you've quite the journey ahead of all of you.”

“Aye, sir!” The duo barked, turning themselves before snapping orders, the previously unruly bunch immediately bouncing to attention, then to action as they all shortly after took to the skies.

The old soldier watched them leave, following their diminishing forms until they were but unidentifiable pinpricks upon the horizon. Beside him, he felt a familiar touch brush against his hip, Cassandra’s tail making the connection before her arms did as she hugged him from the side, pulling him in close.

“We should have him over for dinner again.” She stated, Tavir letting out a drawn-out sigh by way of immediate reply.

“As I hear it, we’d only embarrass ourselves for the effort.”

“Pfft! He’s giving us a small fortune, dear; I hardly suspect he’s of the sort to turn his nose at some hospitality. And besides, my sister handed me a rather lovely gift just the other morning. I’ve been experimenting with all the wonderful little pouches in the kitchen for a few hours now.”

Tavir glanced worriedly at his beloved, his expression managing to break away from himself as the woman squawked with righteous indignation. He could only hold his hands up by way of surrender, weathering the hands that battered his arm before he glanced towards the ruin that was his—home. Far from spectacular, in truth, it was hardly acceptable… but not entirely unexpected. What had come as a surprise, however, was how long they were quoted to wait until their government could—aid them… Tasked, generously with the dual realities that were expectation to hold the land they’d been given, more a duty than reward by any standard of metric, and to do so with little more than what the land could provide. His requisition for tools hadn't even yet bloody well been asnwered! And he’d filled out the paperwork for such the damned day he’d been told they were relieved of active duty… To say Tavir, a career soldier and officer of his people's forces, was unimpressed with how the new generation of seniority was handling the situation was—obvious.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“We still haven't found the nest yet, you know…” The old soldier grumbled, earning himself another squeeze from his wife.

“Others are on it, love; you needed worry that you've hamstrung our capabilities… skies above, ancestors only know how many of us are busy day to day kicking stones down the road…”

“Morale—has been low…” He admitted wistfully, feeling himself being spun around by Cassandra as she glowered at him meaningfully.

“And you have just taken the first opportunity you've been given to rectify that fact. Stop wallowing in your despair, husband! It doesn't become you.”

“I can't help it… Months, we’ve been stuck in this—rut with naught else to do but sort shards of broken glass… Futility doesn't even make the cut.”

Cassandra simply sighed at him, pulling away and shaking her head with disappointment. “You better step up your game, centurion, or else I’ll be the first one to call for a mutiny.”

“Don't—joke like that wife…”

“Whose joking?” The demoness purred, offering him a sly wink as she sauntered away. “I think I’d be next in line, given the order of seniority, no?”

Tavir just found himself growling after her, though the noise wasn't necessarily born of—anger, as his gaze fell to a particularly—pleasant region of her retreating form that held his gaze with a captivating sway. He allowed himself a few moments to admire the view before straitening himself back up and marching off to go find himself something to do. Admittedly, most of it was all makework projects that held little import to the grader scheme of it all; however, he owed it to those under his charge to at least appear as if he could still cobble together two shits and swear it was gold.

Back at his RV, Arthur found himself re-emersed within the pit that had become his war with magic upon Culinary’s behalf. Fighting upon yet another new frontier, though, this time at the behest of a child's jittering desperation. While some products such as eggs, milk and even pasta were, though not ideal, usable in certain recipes given their lack of flavour when pitted against the sum totality of other ingredients typically used with them, chocolate was not quite the same. When Arthur had offered to make Tulla something truly delicious for dinner, the girl had instead suggested that the whole family should be along for such an event. A—notion that Arthur, despite himself and the rather—newish acquaintanceship with the demons, couldn't reasonably find fault with. However, that wasn't to say that Tulla didn't desire a sort of—reward for her self-titled sacrifices as his taste mule, and, so said request for remuneration was, in point of fact, a desperate plea for him to finally undertake an attempt at her thus far favourite snack.

Chocolate. Easy when one thought about it, however, there were individuals in his old world that considered the substance, its creation and even presentation to be less about cooking and more a sort of artform. Arthur wasn't so enamoured by it all to view it as any of that, yet, at the same time, he hadn't actually ever tried to make it before… He knew it involved the cacao bean, which was an easy enough place to start, and, naturally, milk and sugar were involved at some point as well. Honestly, his gut instinct to dry the beans before grinding them to a sort of paste was, probably a step towards the right direction; however, the myriad attempts he made through the following days proved to be—inadequate.

His finished product certainly looked like chocolate after he used his food-processing card to hurry things along, much as the growing card helped raise the plants after he’d dumped a truly abhorrent number of souls into it to get it working within reasonable standards. However, the—taste simply wasn't there. It was bitter sugar for lack of a better way to describe it, sort of how he imagined it might taste if he took coffee grounds and pulverized them into the shape of a candy bar, though, with copious sweetness added in for good measure.

No, there was definitely an important step he was missing in the whole process, one that he felt to be right upon the edge of his memory, a long-since forgotten Wikipedia article trying its best to surface from the quagmire that was unimportant random facts… He—eventually, gave up after trying for the third day in a row after getting frustrated and, nearly kicking his workstation over, much to both Tulla’s delight and disappointment. He was honestly getting to the point where he just said fuck it and started shovelling souls at the problem rather than trying to work things out the old-fashioned way. After all, he did have a card that offered a magic solution to it all, though its usefulness as it stood was—more than questionable. Instead, Arthur turned his attention towards something less irritating so as to take a break and allow his mind to silently grind against the problem in the background…

Unfortunately, it seemed that, as of late, no matter where he turned his attention, souls would inevitably arise as his primary obstacle to contend with and, more specifically, his general lack of an adequate supply. He was sorely tempted to try and set out to find creatures that had a more potent spark than the seemingly limitless marsupials that he’d been abusing to fuel his designs—however, his drones made for much better and, more importantly, expendable assets than his own person. He had to be careful not to reveal his little squadron or their capabilities… Though offering to inject the dreary settlement with a substantial and needed supply of cashflow like some angel investor had definitely won him some goodwill, that wasn't the same as letting them know he wasn't harmless.

Admittedly, he knew Dianna had some semblance of understanding that he wasn't so helpless as he’d at first seemed, and he had boasted over some of humanity's more dangerous toys, but he’d also made it pretty clear that those were far beyond his reach. That said, if Dianna had mentioned her near-death experience with her kin, none had seemed too terribly concerned by it… In his mind, it was far more likely that she, much as himself, was keeping certain tidbits of knowledge to herself, though towards what end, Arthur could merely speculate.

Thus far, Arthur had tried to keep his drones out of sight the best he could, sending them—hunting at odd hours when people were either asleep or when he assumed people were typically busy with other tasks. Primarily, mornings and nights were his current windows of opportunity which meant there was a large delay between the time he sent them out and when he could place his hands upon the fruits of their labours. This go around, Arthur intended to send his bots quite a bit further away from his location; thus, the hour wasn't so important. Already, they’d managed to piece together a sort of working map where his RV stood at its center and was the basis for navigation given that the sun was objectively absent from the sky.

To his west lay the village, roughly a kilometre or two by his best approximation from its boundary to his home. North, south, and east had proven to be a sort of—prairie. Rolling grasslands seemed to utterly dominate the surrounding area in nearly all directions, save for the vast treeline that stretched out across the horizon when one continued passed the village proper for another few kilometres. Likewise, further east found oneself, should they travel there by foot, entering a series of ravines which led further still to more flatland.

Rivers crisscrossed and wound their way through the area like watery veins, most travelling from and towards the northerly half of his growing map where Arthur’s spy drone had encountered a very large body of water. Though as to its status as a lake, ocean or inland sea, he wasn't rightly sure. Sending his drone south had led to little of interest beyond affirming that he was likely situated within the uppermost corner of a large continental grassland that invariably backed itself against both a shoreline and the beginning of forestry. Ideal were one to decide to build a settlement in earnest given the abundance of resources on hand, though, Arthur suspected he wasn't the first to see it as such. After all, even if the village existed before they’d arrived, its blatant disrepair and utter lack of tactical value made it clear that the location was what was of significance rather than what preexisting structures remained.

Arthur was—weary of the forest for many reasons… Naturally, the trees would make it difficult for his drones to navigate and function with any efficiency, mixed with its proximity to the settlement and the canopies hampering his primary drone's aerial reconnaissance, simply put, making it a less than desirable area for him to bother with. By contrast, the vast open spaces available in virtually every other direction made sending his bots west a fairly easy prospect to pass on.

North held his interest rather doggedly as the presence of an ocean or even a large lake meant fresh fish. Though he hadn't always been much of a seafood guy, living near a lake abundant with fish had allowed him to sort of develop a taste for aquatic life. Still not his favourite, he nevertheless found himself occasionally craving a good trout, assuming he could find one, and, if fish held soul cards then, he could potentially find himself something of a target-rich environment to harvest. All the better if it were an ocean, as the deeper one went, the greater the dangers and rewards that potentially lurked below. South was sort of uninteresting to him, for now at least while still presented with better alternatives while east and the series of valleys it offered definitely intrigued him. Valleys typically meant lush greenery which in turn meant water and an abundance of local fauna.

Admittedly, killing hares wasn't exactly the most profitable enterprise he could imagine, however, if there were, say a herd of bison then, Arthur could only assume he’d do quite well for himself. Lost in contemplation as he was, and without his spy drone present to alert him, he was summarily caught off guard when a weighty form plumped itself into his lap! He blinked as the newcomer seemed to—snuggle in, tail and wings draping as his consciousness broke free from the display it had been so thoroughly focused on and, reevaluated his situation. Tulla had curled herself up into a semi-ball-like state, pointedly not looking at him as she peered out over the frankly uninteresting ocean of grass that lay just beyond his camp. She didn't say a word, not at first, and while her actions were undoubtedly bold, her form was decidedly rigid, as though expecting to need to vacate her current proximity with a rapid immediacy.

Arthur—thought he knew what was going on, it wasn't like children hadn't jumped on him like this before but—usually, they were of a more—familial cast than—alien. Several things ran through his mind as he held himself there, perfectly still and, admittedly, unsure himself as to how he—wanted to respond. Yet, in the end, he held back the sigh that very nearly escaped his lips. Instead, allowing himself to relax and even wrapping an arm around to girl for a small squeeze. That seemed to be all the permission Tulla needed, and within an instant, she melted like butter, curling up just a little more as Arthur silently returned to what he was doing, trying not to make the whole situation weirder than it already was.

“I'm bored.” The girl muttered a span later, finally breaking the strange silence that hung about them as she shifted and craned her neck to peer upwards at him.

Though not human, she was still a child, and while quite smart for her age, and, unsurprisingly, given her upbringing, mature, the pouting and desperately longing look for attention she gave him slammed Arthur in the gut as though he were in the ring with Tyson… He mentally stumbled, trying to parse the expression written clearly across her face, and, when combined with her sudden—appeal for proximity and—well, though he certainly didn't want to play that role in someone's life, he wasn't a monster…

Stepping up to be big brother was a lot of responsibility; worse, it was often as not a lifelong commitment else one was liable to emotionally cripple the one—latching on… Still, he—liked Tulla; honestly, she was a pretty cool kid, helpful, thoughtful, intelligent and—terrifying in her own way when he remembered the first time he’d been carrying her around but… that didn't mean he wanted to—involve himself like that… It was a big ask that had, perhaps not come out of absolutely nowhere given how much time they’d spent with each other but… again, Arthur just wasn't positive he—wanted this sort of—responsibility in his life…

Seeing his hesitation, the small demon visibly wilted, her form shifting with such despondent dejection that something in Arthur’s heart just—cracked. He pulled her in a little tighter, this time not bothering to stifle his sigh but making up for it a moment later. “Can you keep a secret if I share one?” He asked, wondering that, if one day, he’d come to regret this. For her part, Tulla immediately rebounded, all put glowing with both excitement and hardly hidden relief. She vigorously nodded her head along, a sort of—sheen forming at her wide eyes that Arthur chose to ignore for her sake, and his, but that inwardly, confirmed his suspicions all the same.

Keeping her gaze for a few moments, the young man figured it was probably only a matter of time regardless before the girl caught him with his dangerous toys and badgered relentlessly to involve herself. He didn't remove the device mounted at his ear, instead giving the girl a pat on her shoulder as he grinned and flicked his chin towards his camper. “Go grab my tablet for me, and I’ll show you what I’ve been doing.”

Tulla needed no further instruction as she practically popped from her seat before darting into his house, returning hardly a handful of seconds later before launching herself back onto his lap, causing Arthur to wheeze with the impact that nearly toppled his chair backwards. He couldn't help but chuckle as the girl, once more, made herself comfortable, tail, thin as it was, settling around his torso as she leaned her back against him, wagging his small device with clear excitement. She had learned that Arthur often explained things in due time, perfectly willing to share his thoughts, ideas and how things were done if only one had the patience to wait. As it happened, she was a rather well-disciplined individual when she wanted to be one and, as such, patiently waited for him to turn his tablet on and watch as a strange interface seemed to take command of it before a curious—aerial view manifested on screen. Three more images, though smaller, appeared at the bottom corner, Tulla taking a moment to try and wrap her head around what she was seeing before Arthur let her off the hook.

He gave the command for his drone to find and target a sort of—badger-like creature that was busy digging through the mud at the side of a riverbank. Its elongated prehistoric fangs jutting from the side of its snouted mouth while deviously sharp claws made short work of the soft earth that was between itself and its intended prey. The light glistened off its oily brown hide, indicating it had like as not swam to get to where it now was, while a sort of beaver-ish tail alluded to the notion that it was possibly semi-aquatic.

“I’ve been mapping out the area for myself and taking the time to gather some souls for a few projects I have on the go,” Arthur stated, smiling as Tulla flipped through the various views, all of which were focused upon the animal from differing angles before a bright beam of radiant light burst through the screen. Tulla flinched as the radiance emerged; however, she found herself leaning back in and squinting as she stared at the now blackened scar upon the land where the beam had landed, in its place, a heap of ebony ash and a glowing tarot all that was remaining.

“What just happened?” She inquired, mind already spinning to try and understand. Even as she watched, from an aerial view, as the two scuttler drones closed in, gleaming blades humming with intensity as one of the bots lifted the card and inserted it into its fellow’s cargo hatch.

She turned on Arthur, narrowed gaze observing him as he winked at her reaching down to activate his spydrones targeting system as it flew higher and began actively scanning for new targets. A bevy of red reticles emerged on screen as Arthur gestured towards it, the new and, more importantly, interactive aspect of their activity catching her attention like a moth to the flame.

“Pick something you want to have vaporized.” He stated, arms magnanimously opening wide to the world, as though within them, he offered everything beneath the sun, or—roots…

Immediately, the little terror in his lap giggled, quickly tapping on what Arthur could only liken to a tiny bipedal bird. It wasn't quite a velociraptor, more like an emu, only small and aggressively lean, beaked like an avian but, with exceedingly long legs for its form. The creature was stealthily on the move with several of its comrades, stalking near the edge of the river when a bright beam from the heavens disintegrated their vanguard. The flock descended into madness as they all collectively squawked and hissed, trying to determine what was happening, even as Tulla began laughing manically and tapping each of the creatures as fast as she was able.

Arthur watched in—stunned silence as the demon child's taste for bloodshed arrived right to the forefront of her desires as though it had been all but gnawing on the bars of it's cage… A—eventuality he probably, were he to delve deep, shouldn't have been too surprised at but was still—shocking to behold. He hadn't even known his scuttlers were so willing to get stuck into a mosh, but as he watched them massacre the creatures at Tulla’s command, his spy drone acting as her lieutenant to relay orders… Well… It was with a shrug that Arthur decided that this was just one more of those things he’d be getting used to.

“It's a lot more fun than practicing with my spear.” The girl enthused, sometime later, while Arthur fried a dozen magic eggs, using vegetables, animal fats and spices to—make up for their lack of flavour. “Can I bring them home with me?”

Arthur snorted, glancing at the merry killer in the midst of his camp with an honest chuckle. As bloodthirsty as she was, a product of her environment or otherwise, the sheer cheek the girl possessed in even asking such a thing was downright endearing. “Obviously not, or, have you already forgotten this is supposed to be a secret.”

“Pfft! Nobody would know what any of this was if they saw it.” Tulla reposted, peering up from the device for the first time in potential hours. If nothing else, her willingness to take over for him in gathering souls was a welcome break. “Besides, Im not asking to bring the drones with me, just the tablet so I can play with them.

“They're my defence force.” Arthur countered, watching as the girl tilted her head at him before blinking.

“I know auntie and mom keep telling me to be—gentle with you, but are you really that brittle that you're scared of the wildlife out here?”

“Say’s the girl who has claws and wings.”

Tulla glanced back at her haphazardly draped wings which rested across the chair, shrugging as though it were of little consequence. “You almost got Mom that one time, even if it was a cheap shot, so I refuse to believe you’d be killed that easily.”

“You're mother wrapped her hand around my neck, not hands, mind you, but hand, and lifted me off the ground like I was a stuffed doll!”

Tulla frowned at him as Arthur held his hands on his hips. A salt shaker mysteriously lifting from where it was sitting and sprinkled its contents a few times over the pan. The girl's eyes widened a fraction before narrowing with accusatory precision, to which Arthur just laughed, refusing to elaborate further.

“Nope, can't fool me. You're strong, maybe not—strong, strong like, with muscles, but… more…” She struggled for a moment, trying to find the right word and, in failing to do so, waved the sentiment away as though it hardly mattered. “My point is that—”

“You would like me to allow you to come back tomorrow and play with them again?” Arthur offered, looking at her meaningfully before the girl groaned and nodded her head.

“That's fine. But, like I said, this is our little secret. No telling anyone, not even you're mother.”

Tulla winced at that, momentarily looking horrified before she—demurely replied, voice hardly above a whisper. “Mom doesn't like it when I keep secrets from her… Usually, when she finds out, I get to go through survival training again…”

Briefly, Arthur pondered on what it might be like having an ancient military drill instructor for a parent… In his mind, picturing a sort of—ancient Greek thing going on where children were forced to fistfight and slug rocks through hills to toughen them up… Honestly, considering some of the things the girl had opened up to him about during her—childhood spent marching with her people's armed forces, he didn't think he was too far off the mark. He didn't want to give Dianna a reason to get pissed off with him again but decided that it wouldn't hurt too badly to send the girl on her way with something to entertain herself with at home…

“Come here, will you, stir the pan and make sure it doesn't burn, I need to grab something from inside.”

Tulla—nodded after a moment's hesitation, glancing between him and her thus far-claimed tablet before she dutifully wandered over, slightly reluctant but taking up a wooden spoon and doing as she was bid. Arthur smiled at her, ruffling her hair before heading inside and creating something from his memory. It didn't take long, given it wasn't exactly what one might call—revolutionary; however, when he returned, holding a multicoloured cube in his hands, he immediately managed the girl's attention. He waved the thing before her, then tossed it, Tulla catching the small toy and making the act seem almost negligible for all the ease of it. She stared at the thing for several moments, then looked back at him, clearly confused.

“It's a puzzle.” He grinned, returning to his station and cutting the low flame on his burner. “You're meant to make each one of those small squares the same colour as all those on the same side, one all blue, all green, all white, yellow, red and black.”

The girl—stared at him for several moments before she glanced at the plastic cube in her hands, slowly testing the thing as she tried to figure out how it moved. It only took her a handful of rotations before she glanced back up at him, scowling with accusation as her little tail thrashed with annoyance. “You're playing a joke on me.” She stated, not at all pleased to say the least.

“Think so?”

Again, the girl returned her focus to the cube as Arthur began plating their, well, what was essentially at this point, early dinner, Tulla’s hands moving a few more times while trying to do exactly as Arthur had explained before she growled. Allowing the cube to roll disinterestedly from her fingers as she sat down on the bench. Now far more interested in her meal than anything else. Her expression popped with delight as she all but gobbled what was before her, nearly so savage in her excitement as to forget her table manners.

Arthur, for his part, just grinned evilly as he took up the cube and began quickly solving it, using a long-since memorized formula he’d read about online. He was admittedly a little rusty, but within a few minutes, he had the cube completely solved. He smirked at Tulla as he loudly cleared his throat, garnering the girl's attention as he waved it before her, then deflated when the girl just shrugged, more interested in licking her plate. Still, he fudged the cube up again before placing it beside her, spilling the rest of what he’d made onto her plate while marvelling at how the kid could pack it away… The first serving he’d offered was more than enough for a teenage boy to rip through and be full, but at this point, Tulla was eating enough for a small family all her own. She hungrily pounded back into her meal like a starving wolf… This being the—first time he’d actually cooked something for her that wasn't an experiment.

“Take the cube home with you tonight.” He told her, sitting down himself to have a few bites to eat as he spoke. And, if you manage to solve it, I’ll let you play with the drones again.”

This time, his words did catch her attention. The demon girl peering up at him as though stunned, bits of egg and red pepper stuck to her cheek, utterly disbelieving that such a ridiculous task would be the gatekeeper to her newfound enjoyment. “That’s—easy.” She slowly stated, confidence beginning to bloom as she doubtlessly convinced herself of her own assured victory. Her expression leaving Arthur with a sense of feline satisfaction.