Chapter 2

“So… I should ask… Does the town at least look familiar to you?”

Tulla hemmed and hawed, wrapped up in her crisp white sheets and pressing into him, luxuriating in the modern marvel that was synthetic cloth, shampoo and conditioner, more focused on how glossy and silken her hair had become than where they were.

“Yup, pretty sure… there! Right there!” She confidently announced, an arm pointing out in a vague direction, fingers settling on a smaller home that shared in the somewhat more worn look about the village than he’d expected. They were still about five minutes out. Still trudging through the grass, Arthur carrying the girl on his right hip, arms beginning to burn with her weight. Yet, she’d seemed adamant to cling to him since she’d opened. Likewise, she’d also had him thoroughly wrapped up in her wings and tail, thankfully alleviating at least some of the burden… unfortunately, at least in the tail’s case, snugging around his arm somewhat—tightly…

The building wasn't necessarily different so far as its construction could be observed next to all the others around it, no less and certainly no more than a sturdy brick and mortar home with wooden framing making up its—partially exposed interior, windows and rafters. From a—certain perspective, there wasn't anything actually wrong with the place beyond, of course, its state of disrepair and rather compact size… however, that was as much as Arthur was willing to allow it. The brutal truth of the matter was that, while it was a house with four walls and a roof, it and many others in the area offered a sort of shanty vibe… with planks and earth boarded over large patches where the bricks had begun to fail and crumble.

Roofs were carpeted by shoddy attempts at repair using whatever seemed available on hand, grass included. Windows, which were of a decided shutter variety rather than worked glass, were badly weather-worn, tattered and seemingly either reinforced with additional lumber or outright barricaded by more dried mud and twigs… It was—certainly a… hmm… sight whilst all up close and personal…

The surrounding yards of each building looked to be about the process of being used as small personalized gardens, admittedly the neatest aspect of the ensemble as a whole but still quite rudimentary by any definable modern standard. Whatever small attempts at crops there were to be seen were—quite honestly sad… thin, and waifish… wilting in some places or outright dead in others… More wild plantlife grew within the spaces between these almost desperate attempts at agriculture, typically with unchecked abandon and in as many visible regions wherever one looked. All the while, evidence of once admirable metal works by way of assorted outdoor tools like axes and shovels were reduced to little more than chipped and rusty shades of their former glory. From far off, the village had appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be something of a prosperous little farming community, perhaps one locked within a perpetual pre-plumbing era of technology, one which existed upon the fringes of true civilization such as a more colonial settlement might have appeared at a historic public park. However, up close, Arthur could plainly see why Tulla might not have been so—umm… used to the concept of a hot shower, or even a damned bath… Soap in general, really…

He did his best to approach the home from the village’s rear, not yet willing to venture through the somewhat unsettling and broken town, wanting, in the back of his mind, to avoid meeting the locals… Half the time expecting that Tulla would just suddenly wriggle from her perch in his arms and abandon him here, which was silly but, also a genuine fear. It wasn't as though he were so dull as to believe himself—dreaming this all up, not with how tangible everything felt, from the air he breathed to the soreness of his arm while holding a rather weighty child. But, as she was, Tulla, for better or worse, was as much his guide to it all as she was his current ward. If there were people here, and they weren't human, then it didn't need a significant leap of thought to believe they might not be what he’d call—friendly…

All the same, when they got around to the building front, dirt-packed roads and dishevelled antiquity greeted Arthur with an only slightly more well-kept thoroughfare. The odd smattering of—demon people, all of which were quite similar to the girl in his arms, appeared to mull about, simply going along with their lives. Many largely spoke with each other in idle, disheartened tones, some were fixing buildings with whatever was around, others working on cleaning the clutter and detritus in a strangely but undeniably—despondent manner.

It was as though the people there didn't precisely—belong, the atmosphere, their actions, and even snippets of conversation he captured all alluding to the notion that they were as new to the area as he was. From what he could see, it seemed as though their goal was about the business of giving the rundown community a certain breath of fresh life, for whatever such an attempt was worth. Not air, mind you; Arthur had to work to master his expression as the village, very much filled with pungent scents belonging to smoke and unwashed bodies, hit him as though he’d just been punted back to a post-roman era of historic filth and grime.

Right, so it wasn't that bad in truth, probably no real different than walking into a modern campground with overly taxed public facilities… but it was no less offensive all the same. He felt Tulla twitch in his arms, her nose scenting the air, body becoming hyperfocused like a bloodhound, straining with visible excitement as though she was seeking prey hiding in the nearby brush. However, after a moment, the girl deflated in his arms, pulling in tighter with a degree of bleak disappointment as she slowly shook her head, large eyes looking at him like a lost puppy.

“Mom’s… not here. And auntie Cassandra’s gone too…”

Arthur frowned at that, looking at the girl with a raised eyebrow whilst considering how she could possibly tell something like that from smell alone, when a sudden voice snapped his attention away.

“Oi! You there! Yeah, you, what you doin' at Diana’s place, huh? Don't—recognize…”

Arthur turned to spy an older man whose voice hesitated and fell away, features lightly weathered and skin wrinkled at the eyes watching him with a rapidly escalating and aggressive set to his posture. He was—huge… muscled like a bodybuilder but more than just large so far as human standards could be concerned, as though he were just—proportionally bigger, scaled and upsized to a truly intimidating measure, standing a genuine head taller than Arthur himself…

Unlike Tulla, the stranger's tail wasn't the smooth and curious appendage that the youths appeared; instead, looking barbed and needlessly cruel at its tip, a horribly serrated blade running down a crescent at its apex, the tail itself long and snake-like, nearly the man's own height in length and thick as his burly wrists. Claws seemed to stretch out of the demon’s fingers like a cat, each as terrible to think about as was the tip of the creature's swishing fifth appendage and fanged mouth… Arthur immediately felt as though he were a small lamb, one that had wandered off too close to the forest without knowing the danger whilst a pack of hungry wolves watched from the shadows… His heart began to thump slightly faster in his chest, the apprehension building by the moment.

“Ey, ey, ey! You've got Tulla there!” He growled, taking a heavy step forwards, long canines gleaming in the light.

“Uncle Tavir!” The child in question sang, waving happily but not letting go of her saviour's neck. “This is Arthur! He found me and killed the Tricen that was trying to sacrifice me! He gave me a shower and candy and look, look how shiny my hair is! It smells like fruit!”

It was actually a sort of Fiji blend he’d stockpiled some time ago, but that was beside the point. Also the way that the girl spoke of her own ritualistic demise with such open spirit was—kind of more than just a bit bizarre. However, thankfully, and while it did take a moment, upon seeing the girl's exuberance, some of the tension in the demon man’s posture relaxed, which Arthur was appreciative of as, until a moment prior, he’d been considering if he’d need to change his trousers… Tavir, the girl's uncle and horrible monster-man hybrid that he was, was himself clearly suddenly uncertain of the situation, or, at least more than he already was, now confronted with something of an unexpected dilemma that Arthur immediately identified as a moment he needed to capitalize upon… possibly for his own safety…

“I found her out in the grasslands…” He offered, pointing a thumb back in the direction they’d come, swallowing his fear and applying a mask of confidence. “There was a… cultist that had managed to capture her and, I suspect, was trying to sacrifice her for some—evil thing... Honestly, I think I killed him entirely by mistake… But Tulla has a head injury, a concussion, and it's not great for her to be jostled around. She still seems kind of loopy…”

The frown on Tavir’s face was enough for Arthur to chide himself for forgetting the translation card probably wasn't the perfect tool he kept thinking it was… nevertheless, the demon-man seemed to catch enough of what he was saying to be placated a fraction and simmer the situation. Unfortunately, the confrontation wasn't made at all better by Tulla refusing to come to his side as he spread out his arms as though trying to coax the girl from her hold. Tavir’s apparent disapproval of his niece’s unwillingness to abandon her spot only made the demon bristle, even as Tulla seemed to nestle in against Arthur’s neck, almost as though to rub it in…

“Mmrrhhmmm… a Tricen captured her you say… strange that…” The man mumbled, rising and rebounding from a fleeting semblance of rebuffed embarrassment, scratching his chin somewhat awkwardly in thought as he considered the pair before him. Quite effectively regaining his social poise. Each brush of a thick and calloused digit’s sounding like rough sandpaper upon pine. “She likes you… must have made quite the impression on her for that…” He paused for a beat, clear consideration for the situation flashing over his features before his scowl subsided, barking a moment later with a flair of something between the commanding and disinterested. “Fair enough! Tulla, your mother and Cassie are scouting around the forest looking for you. And… I suppose if the lad’s brought you back this far, I can leave you with him a span longer while I call for them… You're on the up and up, aren't you, boy?” Tavir asked, attention shifting to Arthur, who vigorously nodded his agreement without delay.

For her part, Arthur could feel Tulla nod as well but was, at that moment, more concerned by the many gazes that had slowly converged from the village, all curious but few friendly. The older demon himself took quick note of the onlookers gathering around him and smirked, eyeing Arthur’s discomfort.

“Tulla’s back, everyone! Again… No need to gather round and concern yourselves, a traveller found her and returned her to safety.” The heavily laden exasperation and sardonic flavour to his tone made it clear that the man was—used to this sort of situation, perhaps even specifically with his niece herself.

There was a general murmur of acknowledgements and accompanying nods that didn't appear as though anyone was, or had even been, overly worried, but the young man was—unconvinced that his own presence was anything more than what one might call—tolerated… Even after Tavir had made his announcement and winked at him, leaping into the air to smash it with massive wings as he gained altitude surprisingly fast. The demon's departure slamming Arthur with a torrent of air, there were no few amount of hostile gazes that continued to peer his way, even if he could never seem to actually catch the eyes whilst they were upon him…

It made him feel entirely vulnerable and made his heart race with nervousness… Not all the creatures were so—massive as the man, or demon, Tavir had been… Many appearing to be quite human-sized, if on the slightly bigger end of things with what one could name standard deviation in body widths and heights, again leaning more towards the taller side of it all. Yet, given his own spindly six-three ass, only one or two were, in truth, bigger than himself by any substantial margin when it came to height and even then, they weren't quite so—intimidating as the older demon nor conversational…

True, he was something of a lanky bastard, which skewed his perspective when so many were of his approximate size, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. No, his true focus was, at that juncture, shifted onwards to the fact that the more he peered about his surroundings, the more he felt as though he were being hemmed in, corralled by a pack of wild dogs salivating at his heels, predators sizing up prey amidst a bleak forest with no way to safety… He couldn't be certain, but it almost felt as though he were being—slowly surrounded…

“Smells good…” Tulla mumbled, slitted nostrils flaring about him as he very hesitantly looked down at her, something that he might clearly name fear washing over him as he noted a distressingly pointed hint of hunger in the girl's gaze.

“Uhhh… w-what exactly is it that smells—good?” He asked, morbid curiosity and suddenly reconsidering the whole affair that was trying to treat an alien species as he would humans! The foolhardiness of every character in practically every Alien film he’d ever seen flooding his immediate thoughts, and laughing in his face while calling him an idiot. Tales of the foolish who attempted to anthropomorphize wild and dangerous animalia smashed into his mind: bears, tigers, orcas… all creatures that were cute and cuddly for humans while on video or behind bars but were, in reality, absolute carnivorous predators…

Tulla didn't answer him, which, in all honesty, only made things worse… instead, she merely held his gaze, silent save for the soft and anticipatory rustle of her tail and wings beneath the cloth, shifting with all the interest of an intrigued cat as it spied the mouse, even as the purple hue to her crossed pupils took on a decidedly fixed state. That wasn't good… Yet, before he could so much as come to terms nor work through the implication that he might very well be holding a hungry man-eating monster in his arms, a whistling wail overcame the surrounding area!

It made both of them snap from their prior thoughts, the duo looking upwards as a dark shadow streaked downwards from above, picking up considerable speed before two massive chitinous and membrane-like wings exploded from the sides to arrest the approaching figure's speed. Now, Tulla did begin to wriggle from his arms, and, he let her freely go, the girl launching from his shoulders with hooved feet, nearly knocking him over with the gunstock bruising force of it, and flapping her comparatively little wings for all they were worth. All the while, a demonic and armoured anti-christ of a woman softly descended to the ground like the second coming of satan himself, her shelled form all cruel lines and harsh angles which made her appear more a gothic nightmare of a knight made manifest...

Tulla was in her arms before either touched the dirt, Dianna, by his best ability to guess given their brief conversation towards the topic, was utterly transfixed by her child's affections. Completely, if for the moment, lost in her daughter's embrace as kisses, promises and hugs were provided in generous measure, but, not enough so that their reunion suppressed a killing intent that was, as it happened, directed in his general vicinity. Worse, much as Tavir himself, Tulla’s mother appeared to be something of an outlier among her species…

Involuntarily, Arthur took a step back, reading a sort of vengeful mother eagle thing going on, and, being entirely unwilling to be part of whatever that might entail, his fight or flight instincts chose the only real answer there was! Sadly, his escape, destined for failure as it like as not had been from the start, was not to be unnoticed as, with the speed of a striking cobra, the demon’s long and bladed tail swept around him, extending in an entirely feasible, if not expected manner, regardless of its length, to wrap around his waist, locking him in place with a deceptively powerful vice that had him struggling to so much as move. Especially when the tail threatened to crush his bones like a bloody hydraulic press when he began to shift, causing him to immediately freeze to avoid his skeleton—cracking.

The appendage was thick, muscled and smooth like the body of an anaconda, heavy and powerful in a—more than disturbing way given how it encircled him with a reptilian, prehensile ease. A thin bead of sweat rolled down his temple as the still furious Dianna, despite being affectionately lavished by her daughter, levelled her coldly irate and dispassionate gaze upon him. A second, then third figure appearing in the sky and descending not long after they locked eyes. Sensing something was off; thankfully, it was Tulla who arrived to his rescue once more as, shifting herself in her mother's arms, she stared at the scene before her for but a moment.

“No! Mom! Don't hurt him! Arthur’s is nice! He’s the one that helped me!”

Despite the glowing review he’d just received for his heroic deed for the day, the tail around him didn't slacken. More, he actually felt himself being pulled towards the pair of demons, feet all but dragging against the earth in his unwilling and forced approach. Still, whenever he made to struggle, the tail only grew tighter, quickly reminding him of his situation without fail.

“How did you find her?” The woman curtly demanded, her question simple, the voice that carried it—pleasing in a certain—weirdly lyrical and intense way… But, one that was nevertheless reserved and quiet, like the calm before a storm… Diana’s deep amethyst pupils thinning as she watched him with suspicious care. The lioness waiting and observing from behind her cub as its child pranced about with baby-like whimsy.

“I-I found her about to be sacrificed by a cultist! T-two others were already killed… U-uhmmm h-h-he had ummm… He had white skin, s-stretched really thinly across his face, a-and three eyes… a snout a-and…”

“Tricen?” She half whispered, half asked, her head cocking slightly to the side, even as her gaze narrowed at the same moment. “Hmph… I think not; there are no Tricen in this part continent, not for months now… You—”

“I can take you there!” Arthur quickly added, licking at his lips and feeling entirely like his ability to placate the demon was intrinsically linked to how long he got to live. “The bodies still in the field! Probably even warm!”

That seemed to make the frightening woman pause, her tail not releasing him, but no longer slowly tightening with threatening promise as it pulled him in.

“Dianna…” Tavir intoned with an admonishing drawl, landing beside the calmly furious demon who, much to his surprise, was actually a bit taller than even the already large example of a massive, monstrous man. Dianna must have towered at least a head over Tavir himself… practically a fucking amazon or a giantess by comparison to Arthur… though her frame was thinner than bulky like the heavy muscle of Tavir’s own… However, given the breadth and scope of things, her arms and legs didn't have to appear bulky on her considerable frame to be concerningly larger than Arthurs… The damned demon looked as though she could snap his spine with a single hand around his throat, a single hand that was big enough to fully encircle his it! Stature so—immense that the act of folding him in all the wrong ways a few times, just for good measure, was like as not to be so much a hindrance as it was a puzzle to avoid simply tearing him in half… She was—mystifyingly terrifying up close… Truly, he earnestly wasn't sure of much else beyond that fact he could really articulate.

She had to of outweighed him three or, even possibly, four times to one, even without the gleaming black armour that appeared tight around her body, which clung to her like a perfect shell… It was formfitting to the contours and valleys of her rather—well, shapely outline but offering the appearance of a polished black-steel suit of plate. The ensemble managing but the vague silhouette of an hourglass and gracefully curvaceous form beneath. It was all—in his opinion, far too—snug to be truly worked steel, despite the appearance, the absence of any clear joints leaving his woefully inappropriate, for the circumstances, monkey brain to wonder how the hell she got such tight-fitting protection on in the first place… and, how it could be so damned flexible as to hug so perfectly with her every movement.

God, had it really been so long since he last saw a woman that—demons were catching his eye? “Sexy demons…” He nearly spoke aloud, wanting to strangle his damned impulse control before preferably stabbing it with a rusty knife… “Sexy demons…” His lizard brain reiterated, as though to spite the situation and his desperate bid for survival!

“This traveller…” Tavir offered, waving his hand in Arthur's direction, seemingly unsure as to the best way to describe him. “Has not only rescued Tulla from being sacrificed upon an alter of our enemies but, even brought the girl back home… And, far be it from me to mention much more, but, my niece was rather fond of him. Not sure about you, but, I doubt that girl would vouch for anyone she didn't like or trust.”

Beside him, a more older version of Dianna, and, notably smaller, though, not by that great a difference as to appear smaller than Arthur himself, landed beside the aged male demon, her appearance sharing in the more weathered and world-weary look of Tavir, almost seeming as though she could have been Tulla’s very young grandmother for all the similarities they shared. Unlike the two others, she was sized to be more in line with what he expected tall humans to look like in the old stories of giant Vikings invading misty shores, minus all the infernal flare, still tall, but height wasn't really the issue, to begin with.

He watched as the older demon—shed her armoured form, a revelation to his unanswered question arriving as the dark, presumably biological plating fell away to land on the ground in fine segmented plates, far thinner and lighter than Arthur would have ever guessed it to be, but, in doing so revealing a nearly naked feminine figure with a—physique and lascivious frame that brought heated embarrassment to his warming face, each of her most private of local’s scarcely cordoned away by wrapped cloth above, and what he could merely speculate to be the archaic, unadorned equivalent of all too modern appearing women's underwear below, complete of course with a dangling loincloth. Not that he’d never seen a partially nude individual of the opposite sex before but, it had been a rather long time since it had last transpired… not to mention he doubted he’d ever seen one quite so—well, he supposed attractively athletic and busty was the politically correct way to describe it. Fuck it, what did he care after propriety?

“Wouldn't say he’d be the brightest thrall of the Tricen if he willingly wandered back into the village after trying to steal one of our young.” The newcomer stated, Tavir nodding to this and placing a hand around the woman's shoulders whom, through the process of elimination alone, Arthur decided was probably the aunt. “She even smells like she had a bath… Ohhh my… would you look at her hair… boy, are you by chance a travelling merchant? Not just a quick wash, but I dare say it smells like our little nightmare had herself a good shampooing to boot!”

Diana seemed to blink at that, whatever haze of fury and rage that had overcome her during Tulla’s absence pausing as she sniffed at her daughter's head, as though the perfumed scent hadn't even yet registered to her attention, all the while the girl giggled with delight at her mother's attention. Dianna taking Tulla’s long raven strands between taloned fingers and carefully scrutinizing their lustrous sheen.

“N-not a merchant,” Arthur quickly enthused, half waving his hands and half testing the ability of his lower half to move—anywhere… it couldn't… Oh, the traction was there, but no matter how hard he strained, he barely budged an inch… Arthur merely managing to elicit a single raised brow from the massive demoness as he tried not to sigh and continued… “Really, it's just, as Tavir mentioned, a traveller. I happened to stumble upon the ritual entirely by accident, I’m afraid, but Tulla was—unconscious when I found her, so I offered my assistance, a-and, not to sound—well, I suppose...” Arthur trailed, trying to figure out how—best to explain it, his face falling with apprehensive disgust for what he’d seen. “That is to say, there weren't any—other kidnappings recently, were there?”

Tavir only shook his head after a moment of consideration. “No lad, those, if there were indeed others, were likely the creature's own young; they do that from time to time…” He added, muttering with an almost exhausted air, the mere prospect of living sacrifice clearly having not been something new for him to deal with. “They have a tendency to leave the best for last when performing their dark rituals… So, I suppose it could be said we are blessed you appeared when you did.”

“Agreed,” Cassandra added, her voice possessing a certain—highbrow lilt that was also present in her sister's own, but decidedly to a lesser degree, “it was very brave to help my niece… Not many who know of our people would so willingly—go near one of us to, shall we say, offer aid…” She finished as her sharp eyes roved up and down Arthur’s person. Clearly, regarding the stranger in their midst with equal parts intrigue and appreciatively reserved disdain. It was evident the woman didn't think much of other people, and probably less so for those not of her own species. Go figure, the older sister of the creature threatening to juice his body was racist… great…

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“I got that sense already…” Arthur grinned, gaze meeting those of Tulla’s reservedly smiling aunt and, feeling the mood shift for the better by an incremental nudge whilst nodding towards the tail that was still binding him in place. “Truth is though, I actually don't know where I am… I think that I kind of just… fell from the sky… well, me and my house really… That's sort of how I found Tulla… under my house…”

“He’s got candy! A-and a home on big dark wheels! It's so clean in there! And he has hot water that sprays from the walls!”

All demons looked at him with skepticism, save, of course, for Tulla as the young girl prattled on about white linens that blinded when one looked at them, a bed that felt as though it were made from clouds and drinkable water without the taste of mud nor iron that ran from a chrome metal pipe. Arthur was, in that moment, reminded of how… run down the village looked whilst the child recited an almost practiced homage towards the magics she’d seen during her time in his care. Then his brain helpfully reminded him that Vikings often took what they wanted from others, usually from those who couldn't resist… because—they’d murdered them!

“It's not really magic…” Arthur offered with a weak expression after a time… Those around him save the child, wearing blatantly disbelieving stares… “My people call it technology… It might seem like it, but it's all achievable through science… and mundane means…”

“Ohhhh, so he is an alchemist then!” Dianna’s sister sniffed, still trying to get her mind around what Tulla had been saying and clearly reproachful for having been lied to. “Rare in these parts… Not many bal willing to learn that sort of thing.”

“Not an alchemist… I’d call myself more of an—inventor, or engineer…”

“Engineer?” Tavir drawled, raising an eyebrow at him as he did so, though, Arthur got the distinct feeling the man—wasn't necessarily impressed by the statement. Rather, it almost felt like there was some lingering resentment in his grumbling tone that had Arthur pivoting the best he was able!

“Ah… maybe that phrase isn't any good with the translator… It means that I'm good at building things, I suppose… not always structures… ugh, more like, tools?”

“Like an artificer?”

Arthur shrugged at the man, figuring it was a close enough approximation as they might get. “Yes, just without the magic part.”

“Then what would be the bloody point?” Tavir barked, clearly growing disenchanted by it all. “How could someone design cargo lifts or crop harvesters without magic? Hah… sounds absurd…”

“It's sort of—hard to explain?” Arthur half asked and half admitted, scratching at his head, his previously dire circumstances forgotten if for the moment as he delved into a subject that he truly enjoyed talking about. “People still create machines and gadgets without magic obviously… usually by harnessing electricity, the same sort that comes from the sky… but, the trade-off is that you need refined materials to make things… Though, honestly, I doubt I could manage a fraction of what my people are capable of without the proper infrastructure to back me up… So, I suppose I’ll be learning how to do it all again from scratch, only, this time, with magic, given it's all rather new to me… Honestly, it's all a little exciting.”

“That's assuming I let you live…” Dianna amended for him, tail tightening again as she spoke and squashed his budding enthusiasm.

“Ohhh, let him go, Dia; he's not harmful to anyone! Look at him! He’s tiny! He hasn't the stink of magic about him, and his body is as soft as a cow… Little Tulla could have bested him alone if she’d had the mind to… girls a bloody terror with that temper and her claws…”

“What if he’s got a dangerous soul card? What if he’s got a concealed deck and only seems harmless as might an assassin?”

“Got two cards…” Arthur quickly added, raising his arms a little while trying to look as unthreatening to the frightening woman as possible. Hands sitting in the air as though he’d just walked through airport security, and they’d pulled their guns. “One’s only good for translating, and the other is for making things…”

“You see? Harmless!” Tavir chuckled, wandering over to clap Arthur on the shoulder. The gesture definitely moving towards the right direction, if not nearly smacking the wind from his chest as he felt his bones rattle! Arthur just holding back against an eye-bulging wheeze that he so desperately wanted to release. “Don't mind Dianna lad, she’s just shaken up from Tulla disappearing on us, or that is, doing so longer than she usually does…” He added, grumbling while giving the girl an unimpressed sideways glance. “Anyways, truly, you've done us all a great service if your story is honest, which, based on the little ones recounting and my own gut feeling, I suspect to be true. We don't get many visitors in our lands, but let it never be said that we harm those willing to give a helping hand…”

A span later and Arthur found himself seated within a small dining room, forcefully invited into the home of Tavir and Cassandra. Surrounded by demons—or bal as they called themselves, and discovering that there were far more crossovers between this new and odd land, and that of his home. For one, despite the chairs having more in common with reinforced stools, and the table lacking any polish or finished design, the manner in which the alien race supped together seemed little different than how many humans, even in the modern age, doubtlessly replicated. They all ate as a familial unit, using bone-carved utensils, primarily a two-pronged fork and deviously sharp knife, enjoying a meal that largely consisted of roasted meat of a decidedly gamey variety and questionably strange but familiar vegetables while talking about their day.

Of course, the one doing most of the recounting was Tulla, reciting, for what was perhaps the fifth time since the family had been reunited, the saga that was her capture, eventual liberation and journey home. The more she spoke of it, the more things only seemed to take upon them a grander scale, eventually sounding akin to some epic ballad to match the Illiad itself wherein she battled a ferocious canine, travelled across a sea of open fields and survived the encounter with nefarious cultists that had needed to capture her with nothing less than a small army and the most devious of tactics. The girl, if nothing else, certainly had quite the imagination… but, it was the manner in which her mother, utterly enthralled by the girl's tale, showed naught but love and affection for her that, at some point, allowed Arhtur’s mind to—start to forgive her for almost killing him… It wasn't nearly at the point where he’d begin feeling even a semblance of comfortability around her, but he could—at the very least, mentally come to terms with the fact that she might not have been in the best state of mind…

It was difficult to stay mad at the woman who’d been clearly beside herself with grief and concern… even if he’d like as not ever be friends with or trust her… Hell, he'd be perfectly okay with never crossing paths with her again. Yet, considering Arthur still wasn't sure how long Tulla had been missing for… and regardless of anything else, it was apparent that her departure had utterly broken Dianna’s nerve. Something that likely hadn't been made easier with the knowledge he provided. Nobody liked to hear just how close to death their child had come… nobody. However, now that Tulla was returned to her, more or less healthy and supposedly more animated than she’d been in a very long time, it was all her mother was willing to do but indulge her daughter's story no matter how tall it seemed to grow.

“Do you still have the culprits soul-card?” Tavir eventually asked once a comfortable lul had appeared in the conversation, the smile on his face still refusing to fall as he’d listened to his niece since dinner had started.

“It's in my house.” Arthur nodded, noting, after some internal conflict, that he actually found the meal rather delicious, if not a touch bland to his palate… though he suspected that lay in a difference of available resources than much else. Salt, after all, was one hell of a useful seasoning. “It was called the abyssal cultist… a—class card, and, in truth, even the translation card I claimed was technically his.”

“And they are, of course, yours by right,” Tavir nodded, a grim smile on his face, “nobody will refute your claim given it was you who ended the miserable creature's life, at least, not here. But, I would caution you against trying to use any—abyssal souls the fiend held; they are, after all, known to be quite corruptive…”

A slight but apprehensive smile appeared on Arthur’s face as he caught the demon’s earnest warning, the morsel upon his fork never reaching his mouth as he considered what might have happened had he not been so cautious, to begin with. Just how corruptive was corruptive? Was it like—a curse? Something insidious that would worm its way into his consciousness without him ever realizing a change was taking place? Just how influential were such things? Would it be like a—brain parasite from some horror movie? Obviously, given that he was dealing with souls, there was a lot of conjecture, but he supposed, so far as a mysterious influence could be observed, one that had a direct line on one’s eternal spark was—presumably potent…

“I wouldn't even try to barter it…” Cassandra stated, her tone mildly concerned as she finished chewing. “The odds that information gets back to the wrong ears isn't worth the risk… there are more than just the Tricen out there that submit to the abyss, and many more that consider its power in all its associations something to be cleansed from the land by any means necessary. Best absorb its strengths, skies above only know, you could use it…”

“Am I really that weak?” Arthur asked, more than just a little surprised he was being treated with all the danger of a garden snake… Sure, he didn't want them feeling the need to murder him just to be safe, but, as a six-three young man in his prime, and a genetically modified one to boot, being told he was so—unimpressive was a genuine blow to the old ego… Sure, he couldn't have crossed fists with a grizzly, but he’d always been told he had to pay extra attention to his temper and strength…

“Don't take it as an insult, lad…” Tavir offered, face scrunching a fraction towards a wince. “But, yes… I honestly can't immediately think of another species so physically… soft… for you're age, that is… assuming you are an adult, of course…”

“He’s not that different than some of the fey,” Cassie added with a—weak smile… “Though, to be fair, that would only apply to some of their—lesser examples… not the elementals obviously, but more like the elves… Though, they're also rather talented with magic as well, which often more than makes up for any physical limitations… but, Arthur here is… hmmmm… Well, honestly boy, you've got the scent of prey about you…”

Swallowing without any food in his mouth, Arthur eyed the four demons in his midst, each of which was nodding along in agreement. That number, including the damned child! He decided to immediately change the subject before they travelled further down that particular road, given that food, at least of a culinary variety, didn't appear to be in abundant supply. “So, am I to gather that these—cards or souls are how people get stronger?”

Cassandra outright scoffed at him. “Well… yes, but I’d of suspected that was rather obvious… Is there… perhaps a place in the Lacunae where such a thing isn't known?”

“Maybe… I honestly didn't even know I had a soul until I got here…” Arthur admitted, looking down at his food thoughtfully. “Other than killing murderers, how does one go about acquiring more?”

“Killing other things mostly,” Cassie commented with a blunt voice. “Animals, enemies, large insects if they’ve developed enough… really anything still alive works, though, undead sometimes carry weak cards as well… often a remnant echo of the individual they once were and the like. You can of course, buy them, trade or barter as well; they are currency, after all… or have them given to you through alternate means… When I was still with the legions, they made sure each of their soldiers were—well equipped for battle, so there’s always that route for people…”

“We did have to return those cards once our contract was over, dear.” Tavir added, a small but genuine smile on his thin lips.”

“Yes, but the spoils we were allowed to consume whilst using them weren't.”

“Which, of course, reminds me that we’ll have to call for a meeting.” The large man sighed, the sound deep and exasperated if Arthur had ever heard as such. “If there was one of the vermin still wandering about, then odds are there could be more. Fucker’s are more like roaches than anyone gives them credit… resilient to the bitter end! Almost admirable… Legions might have declared the region safe, but if it really is a Tricen out there then obviously there's been something of a mistake.”

“There might be a nest around the area…” Dianna agreed, breaking her silence to join the conversation. “We should dispose of it, sooner than later if that's the case, official dispensation from the army or otherwise. Shouldn't be too hard to track the beast back to its lair.” Her tone was as dispassionately cruel as it had been before, expression hardly shifting from its state of quasi-bored interest while she groomed one of her talon-like nails with another, her tail suddenly lashing out and gripping her daughter by the shoulder without a change in countenance. The latter of whom had been about the business of trying to sneak away before she’d finished her meal, only to be corralled by her nigh omnipresent mother and encouraged to remain seated.

Arthur hadn't said anything that might allude to his suspicions, but he was beginning to develop something of a picture regarding his new—acquaintances… a grim and rather dark portrait that was starting to make him question the… oh, who was he kidding, from the sounds of it, he was dining with a group of ex-soldiers that had, by his best guess given how improper the dwellings appeared for their biology, conquered the very lands they now inhabited, and, having done so fairly recently.

The—Tricen, as they called them, were probably the ones that had once actually created the village he was in… Yet, the term nest hadn't been lost on him either, which, while not really meshing with his mental map, was something he honestly compartmentalized for later. Instead, he decided to delve for a little information; gauging the risk was, at this point, negligible given the conversation.

“I'm not familiar with the history here…” Arthur began with a diplomatic smile. “But, can I take it that your kind has something of an empire or kingdom that recently won a territorial war against the creature that stole Tulla?” He was careful to use a more derogatory word to describe the cultist he’d inadvertently slain with his RV. Not having to be a simpleton to realize the danger he was more than likely in and trying to win a few brownie points was never a bad thing to do.

“Of course! The bastards are practically all but beaten at this point. Small pockets of resistance still remain in the continent's southern hemisphere, but, by and large, the imperium has pretty much tightened the noose around their necks. It should be any month now before they are exterminated… earnestly not much of a surprise you don't know much about it. Not many among the Lacunae that will actually treat with our kind on account of the expansions. N-hehe-not that there's much the tiny civilizations in this sector can really do.” Tavir grinned, smile more crawling across his face with devious and twisted humor. “The fey might give our legions some trouble, but we've at least come to something of an—understanding with their people. But all the other poor sods around us are fair game!”

“I get that…” Arthur said, grinning at Tavir and leaning back in his chair as he did his best not to appear as an entity—un-worthy of conversing with. “Have to admit you’re all rather gifted in the biological way of it all, but, back on my world, our country had giant machines of death that pretty much walked right over the armies of our competitors… It's how we conquered our planet, really… well, all but our closest allies, but… they were annexed anyway… I can say it was all a rather one-sided affair once the decision was made to make it so… I'm curious, are there any of—my kind about that you've heard of? Or am I something of an anomaly?”

“Unique, so far as I'm aware.” Cassie offered, leaning closer as she eyed him curiously. “But, what are these—machines you're talking about?”

“Ah… the translation…” Arthur nodded, pretending to be a lot more annoyed than he really was. “Do you have… ohhh, what’s the best word? Golems, or something like a giant walking metal suit of armour that's controlled by distant mages and filled with weapons? The sort that would let you crack a planet in half, fly between worlds, or obliterate entire cities with a single lever?”

The three adults looked gravely at Arthur as he spoke, though Tulla was merely intrigued, momentarily making him question if it was a good idea to start playing with the metaphorical measuring tape…

The old veteran soldier gave him a calculating look, the man's gaze content to observe for several long seconds as the table remained silent. “You know lad… I’ve got a rather handy card that lets me work out the general truth of things… It's not perfect, not always, but it often gives me a good idea of when someone’s telling a lie… It's… concerning to me that it's not telling me that now while you're speaking of such things…”

“That’s because it's not actually a lie, Tavir… I won't say my people are perfect, but even without magic, we've got our talents… One of those just happens to be war… Though, the more I think about it, the more I'm fairly certain I’ve been dumped in another reality… one where my kind doesn't exist… Otherwise, there’s no way you’d of never heard of us… God’s, and no offence meant, but our own settlements furthest from civilization make this place… somewhat provincial…” That earned him a few looks that might not have been the friendliest for all he could reason their expressions, but nobody was outright hostile, and he had a mission now.

Instead, Tulla’s aunt shifted her head, tilting it as though in thought, trying to picture something in her mind. “I imagine the legions would love to get their hands on a construct that can break a planet…” she idly mused, grinning with gleaming pointed teeth as she doubtless imagined what it might be like. “And yes, this village is rather unpleasant, but it won't be forever. Earnestly, I’m more curious after this whole—inventor nonsense you were speaking of. Is that the sort of specialty you were talking about creating when you claimed to be that—engineer but not an engineer thing?”

“Sort of…” Arthur admitted with a drawn-out sigh. “But, as I said, back home, I would have had entire cities worth of people helping to create something like that, all their resources and time and effort… I know that makes it sound like some immense undertaking but we had it all running so smoothly you’d of never noticed. I have certainly made a few drones in my day, but even then, that was before I left the university…”

“Ah! So, you’re an educated man, then?” Tavir asked, suddenly brightening as he did so. “I met my beloved Cassie at the imperial college when we were still but children! Rare is it to find other people who value education. So far as I’m aware, it's only the few people’s out there that do such things—or, that is to say, who offer it to their normal population. Ehh… you're not a—prince, are you?”

“No!” Arthur laughed, voice amused and cheerful, “Rather, we have our kids in schools from the time they can walk.” He boasted with a small grin. “Have to make up for the softness as you put it somehow eh?”

“Right, you are!” The demon chuckled, his grin infectious as he spoke. “But tell me, without magic, what in blazes are you bloody teaching each other?”

Arthur shrugged, waving away the other man’s laughing tone as though it were hardly an insult. “Language, history, war, economics, construction… everything really… it's more of a generalized program until the later stages of youth. Once we reach adulthood, we specialize in something that interests us. All funded by the state of course, as I'm sure much of your own people might do as well.”

“It's why we have such an easy time of it during our campaigns.” Tavir nodded with firm agreement. “Nobody ever really understands the power offered by a populous that is trained from youth in the mind… Wasn't always like this, though, we were nomads once, if you can believe it, and only in the past few hundred years have we begun emulating what our neighbours managed and, naturally, improving upon it as well! Not to boast, but we’ve five worlds beneath our rule now with many different peoples who live under our power.”

“Then, might I ask why the Tricen sound like their being exterminated?” Arthur hedged, needing some clarity for a situation that had begun to sound a little too grimdark… “Sounds like an awful amount of effort when you could just pacify them and push them into segregated communities that are easier to manage with honeyed words and a little diplomacy.”

“And how right you are! However, the reality is that their entire civilization was founded upon a ridiculous religion worshiping a dark god from the abyss… They say our people were once originally from that reality was well, but, whereas we have become civilized, their god is not. Blood sacrifice! Corruption of souls! Ritual slaughterings of their own children! It's all entirely barbaric… Hard to reason with a conquered people who are all genuinely convinced that, should they sacrifice enough of their invaders and themselves, their inky god will come and grant them eternal salvation… Utter bollox…”

“Religions a—tricky thing… We have it where I come from as well… Can't reason with most of them, not really… and, while some faiths don't have a horrible doctrine, others are downright silly…”

“You speak as though your people have more than one of the damned things!” Cassie all but hissed, expression lost between the humourous and a disgusted grimace.

“Unfortunately, we do. However, it’s played a much smaller role in my people's lives as we've advanced as a society Hard to argue there's a golden man in the sky offering a glorious paradise in the clouds once you've gone up there yourself and realized there isn't much going on…”

Arthur blinked, as did the rest of those at the table, while Tulla, who’d at some point begun listening a touch more intently, snorted as Arthur had described one of the more—prominent deities his people worshiped.

“Your people can fly as well?” Cassie prodded, now quite undoubtedly on the hook and interested in her new guest.

“Not like yours. We use—hmhmhm, I know it's going to sound silly, but giant metal constructs with wings and things we call rockets to bring us to other planets or just across our own. Though I have to admit, I’ve seen more livable worlds in the last day than my entire species has their entire existence…”

“You've no other worlds around your own?”

“Oh, we do, but, whatever's out there—” Arthur gestured, vaguely pointing upwards as he did so “Isn't what we've got when we look to our sky.” Then, remembering he was carrying his cellphone, deactivated as it was, he raised a finger, pulling it out of his pocket whilst the demons watched him, weary for but a moment before he began flipping through some of his photographs.

One day, it had of course, been his intent to visit his family again, and he’d wanted to show them something of a scrapbook collection of his experiences in the wild, something to—help them understand why he’d left in the first place... It didn't take long before he found the video he wanted, placing the thin glass-like pane on the table and blowing it up, the phone creating a three-dimensional hologram, a serene scene of a beautiful midnight sky filled with all the stars he could capture, the peaceful glow of moonlight, the soft shadowed rustle of leaves overhead, even as a comet slowly trailed through space. The four were silent for a time, just watching the spectacle, the gleaming trail left behind the shooting celestial bodies wake splitting the heavens asunder before the recording ended, and, Arthur moved and retrieved his phone.

“Quite a bit different…” He reiterated with a defeated breath. “Beautiful, but hostile to all life… We can't even travel between our planets without special suits that prevent us from being immediately killed. There’s no air up there… just a giant empty void cold enough to freeze you solid… There’s been attempts to bring a world somewhat nearby to a livable state but...”

“Reminds me of a prison…” Dianna stated, watching him without the same wonder or companionship the others offered.

“Hah! You’re not the first to describe it as such… Never really believed that sort of thing myself… but seeing this… what you have here, with so many beautiful worlds above your heads… It's sort of hard not to imagine it like that, isn't it…”

“What are all those tiny twinkling lights?” Tulla asked, still awestruck by the video.

“We call them stars. Imagine enormous balls of fire, each one more than a hundred times larger than the world… a hundred, hundred times larger! We’ve got one really close to our planet, but there are billions more of them which other planets circle… Unfortunately, the vast majority of those worlds are all long dead, no water, no life, only rock and cold…”

“And that—device you have?” Tavir asked, tilting his head in thought. “Is that something that's—rare or possibly an artifact?”

Arthur merely sighed, sounding nearly wistful as he prodded at his food with a fork… “No, most children have them in their hands before they can even talk… Again, it's not magic, it's science… the sort of thing my people specialize at…”

“There's more like that but bigger in his home!” Tulla proclaimed, proudly puffing out her chest as she did so, the girl having the most… direct experience with the strange and exotic traveller and loving that she did so. “He can use them to create talking plays! Colourful moving pictures that look like real life, only silly! I didn't understand them much, but, Arthur said he would try and figure out how to fix the translation for me so I could understand them!”

That caught her mother's attention who quickly chilled the room with her stare, Arthur catching on in but a moment and rapidly explaining himself before his possible doom. “O-only of course, if it's something you're okay with, Dianna, at that point, I was just trying to get Tulla to trust me so I could tend to her wounds and get some water into her than anything else…” Of course, he didn't miss the disappointment in the girl's face as he said this, and, feeling a wrench in his heart, he quickly amended himself. “Naturally, I don't actually have anywhere to go right now, and since you can fly if your mother says it's alight, I really don't mind if you want to come and visit when you want.”

The glare that he received from Dianna could have frozen a lake, but it faltered when her child turned on her, a stern frown of disappointment well written across her face… Arthur thought there might also be something else there—rebellion? He wasn't sure, but when he caught a rather devious glint in Cassie’s eyes, he knew there was more to this story.

“Perhaps…” the older demoness purred, long and dainty fingers tapping lightly at the table. “You might make sure to attend your daily classes, Tulla. And I, in turn, might be able to convince your mother to let you visit… after, of course, we all make sure it's safe for you to do so.”

Despite how intelligent the girl appeared at times, she fell hopelessly into a well-laid trap by her aunt, who, with but a promise already likely to be afforded her, the woman evidently managed to neatly convince the girl of something that was a sore spot for everyone at the table, himself excluded. Tulla seemed to fume over the idea that access to her—new friend would be limited by such a contract, but, upon sneaking him a few glances and earnestly warring with herself within her own mind, Tulla, with but the smallest of gestures, agreed to her aunt's terms, an event that was so utterly confounding to her own mother that the woman’s eyes grew wide with surprise. She looked at him, flabbergasted and uncertain but, as though somehow seeing him for the first time beyond the guise of either a meal or, an enemy, though, Arthur couldn't have been certain which was which…