He ate his lunch on the road, trying to get as many miles under his boots as possible before daylight expired. It was only a handful of berries anyway.

"Why are so many of your memories about food and smells?" The demon had emerged from a morning rooting around the stacks of Parry's mind-scape.

"They say smell is tightly connected to memory." He shrugged, downing a few more berries. "As for food, it's one of those pleasures I don't have to worry about."

"Worry?"

He paused to chew and explain.

"The Lord of Wings was right about one thing for sure: I'm always amassing power. How else can I challenge the Creator? And you don't find magic, forbidden fighting techniques and relics just lying on the ground. You're always fighting for them. Or stealing. Swindling, begging, copying, anything to get hold of it. It's a zero-sum game, someone always loses. It's hard to feel good about getting something powerful, it's colored by that knowledge."

He frowned, following the trail of his own logic. "And living lives again costs. It costs so much. Wives, husbands, lovers, children, good times with friends, it's always left behind. You lose it all, eventually. Even if I "win" someday, it means leaving all this behind."

"But food," Parry shook his head, refusing to go down a melancholy road, "Food isn't meant to last. You just enjoy it. Someone made it, you eat it, you enjoy it, everyone wins. It's worth remembering. It's free from.."

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"Guilt and shame and loss."

"If you have to put it that way, sure. I tend to hold on to those memories. Also because they're usually positive. Usually." He remembered some meals he wished he could forget.

Parry took the conversation on the offense. "What about you? I've been a demon many, many times. I know we don't eat, not the same way."

The cat on his shoulder smiled in a way cats really shouldn't. "Souls are delicious."

"They come sauced with guilt and shame and loss, Styak. And death on top."

"I feel neither shame nor guilt enjoying my occasional 'meal.' No more than you do eating meat."

"We are NOT going to have the vegan talk."

"Who's 'Vegan'?"

"A demon lord from my world. Pray you never encounter them or their mad fanatical worshippers."

"I don't pray either," taunted the kitten.

Parry pinched his mouth into a thin line. "I suppose I have to, now, don't I? A shaper shapes. A tamer tames. A priest prays. I'll take stat hits if I don't keep it up."

"Your diety despises you. You've made a demon your familiar. You pretended to have a holy vision of a "Great Lady" who doesn't exist and gave yourself a quest just to wring power out of your trusting father. You abandoned a little girl who's only wish was not to be alone. Exactly what kind of prayer do you think would suit you, Overlord Parry?"

Styak was sure he'd silenced the boy, who walked along the sunny road in the warm summer air. It felt good to get in a little emotional sting of his own.

Then Parry swallowed the last of his berries.

"Rub-a-dub-dub, Thanks for the grub."