CHAPTER 12

Sophia arose to a feeling of blissful contentment. Birds twittered outside, and sunlight filtered through her closed eyelids. The morning was well underway. She was probably late; but for once in her life, she could not muster the anxiety to care. The bed was incomparably warm, and she had no desire to get out of it. With a sleepy moan, she burrowed deeper under the thick, soft fur covers. Her back fit snuggly in a crease in the mattress, which almost seemed to massage her rhythmically. Her head laid between two pillows, smooth and springy.

She thought she remembered dreaming about a loud crash, but already the details were blurred and forgotten. She shifted to her side. Something poked her in the eye. Frowning, she opened both of them.

Then they continued widening to the size of saucers.

A few things became immediately apparent. One, she never had fur bedding. Her covers were cotton sheets. Two, her mattress was too thin to have this deep a crease in it. Three, the “mattress” was indeed periodically rising and falling. And four, those smooth and springy orbs were not pillows. She did not want to think about what had poked her eye.

Her head jerked towards the top of the bed, and she got an eyeful of large white fangs—sharp monstrosities designed to rip flesh and shatter bones. Higher, two imposing curved horns cast shadows on an impossibly black face. Then blood-red eyes fluttered open. Their snake-like pupils found Sophia, and the razor-sharp shark maw curved into a grin.

“Hey.”

All Sophia managed was a mouse squeak.

Sam tilted her head. “Is something wrong?”

“Ho…”

“Ho?”

“Ho… Ho…”

“Ho-ho?”

"Ho-Horns!” The priestess finally blurted.

The demon’s blood-ruby eyes widened and looked up, while her hands shot to grab the sturdy protrusions. She growled discontentedly. “I thought I had that under control.”

“Well, obviously, you don’t!” Sophia squeaked out.

Sam seemed even bigger than during the bandit attack. That might have been because Sophia was so much closer. On the other hand, the transformation had entirely shredded the demon’s clothes instead of merely torturing the seams, so bigger remained a very distinct possibility.

Realising where her head still laid, Sophia yelped and pushed herself up. She wilfully ignored where her hands landed, and shoved aside the thick, fluffy red tail tangled with her cotton bedsheets. She jumped off, stumbling when she misjudged the height of her perch. Her actual bed had not survived the demon's full weight. Its splintered remains laid in pieces underneath Sam’s bulk. That was the crash she had heard in her sleep, not some misremembered dream.

Without a look back, Sophia ran outside the bedroom. She slammed the door shut before collapsing against it. Her breathing was erratic, and her heart pounded arhythmically. “Create in me a clean heart, O Virtues, and renew a right spirit within me.” She repeated the mantra until her soul finally settled down.

Then she realised all her changes of clothes were inside the bedroom.

With a groan, her head hit the door.

* * *

Samael’s eyes searched the forest, trying to locate Slei among the tall pines. The donkey had disappeared shortly before they reached Sophia’s Temple. The aura of the place was not too kind unto demons; and while Samael barely noticed it, the same could not be said for the—relatively—weaker demonic beast.

Of course, she was not worried. Slei was quite able to fend for himself; and any potential danger, he would easily outrun. But Samael still disliked having the intelligent beast out of her sight for long. Except when her aunt came to visit, they had scarcely been apart since the day she rescued him as a foal.

Finding no sign of her friend, she returned her attention to Sophia and the small crowd of humans come to see them off. The angel was also there, standing a few paces outside of the gathering. Their gaze met, and Samael answered her placid smile with the bare minimum of a nod.

Samael was ambivalent towards the Elysium creature. On the one hand, she felt no hostility from her—quite the contrary. And Sophia trusted her. On the other, the winged woman spoke in half-truths and misdirections that raised the demon’s hackles.

Janik’s beard was present—bringing Janik along with it—as was the woman named Hertha, who had been nagging an awkward Sophia for several minutes now. Many more people had already said a word, none of whom Samael knew or cared for.

“Onyxa!”

A weight as heavy as a small feather collided with Samael’s leg and immediately latched on. The demon looked down, raising an eyebrow at the little girl who glared up at her with a fierceness even the monsters of Tartarus would envy.

“You’re my steed! Why are you leaving with her?”

“Sorry, little one. I made a deal with Sophia.”

“Make a deal with me!” Rosie pouted.

Samael’s grin cranked up, along with her eyebrow. “Oh? And what do you offer?”

“Err… Ah… Ehhh…” The little girl fidgeted uncertainly. She had not thought up that far.

Then her lips pinched in an overly grim expression—clearly a mimic of a parent. She released Samael’s leg and pulled a string around her neck. From the collar of her dress, a round piece of flat wood slipped out. She handed it to Samael with an air of affected solemnness. Any adult would have struggled not to smile, but the demon received the offering with complete seriousness.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

She spun the pendant in her hand. It was indeed nothing more than a disk of wood. But one side had been roughly carved into a strange, shallow symbol. Samael could not decide if it looked more like a flower with claws or the head of a screaming boar.

[https://i.imgur.com/ryzmOLx.png]

“It’s my inquisitor medal.” Rosie was looking to the side and wringing the front of her dress. “Those who follow Diligence must be careful in their actions, decisive in their work, ethical and stead… steadfast and have the will to never give up. They must guard against laziness and upe… uphold their conviction all the time, even when no one is watching. The mark of Diligence is a symbol of integrity.” The girl recited this with great concentration, and looked up proudly when she reached the end.

Samael nodded her understanding. She knelt in front of the child and held up the medallion. “You made it yourself?” Rosie’s face flushed, and she nodded shyly. “Then I’ll take this. In exchange, I promise I will come back here to see you. Deal?”

“You promise?” The girl looked up with big round eyes.

Samael beat her chest confidently. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“Okay,” Rosie nodded gravely. “We have an agreement.”

“It’s a deal.” Laughing, Samael ruffled the kid’s hairdo. Yelping in rejection, Rosie used her arms to shield her scalp from the demonic assault.

At the gates, Sophia had finally gotten through nearly all the well-wishers. Beside Janik and Rachiel, the last two people remaining were a spindly woman—who had the priestess trapped in a crushing hug—and Rosie’s father hovering worriedly next to them.

The woman eventually let go of Sophia. She did not look too well. Sniffing, she wiped tears at the corner of her eyes. “Write to us, alright?”

“Alright,” Sophia replied with a slightly embarrassed smile.

The man called out to Rosie, who promptly hid behind Samael’s leg. Rolling her eyes, the demon threw the child on her shoulder, deaf to her captive’s screamed accusations of betrayal. She dumped her next to the humans, who immediately babbled useless thanks and apologies—as humans do.

“It’s fine,” Samael sighed exasperatedly. “She’s a good girl. Strong character.” Again, she ruffled the hair of the little hellion, who protested vigorously. “Listen to your parents, okay? They know more than you, and you’re still too weak to fend on your own.”

Rosie looked up at her, and Samael nodded towards the couple. At last, though not without pout, the girl dragged her feet back to her parents. She took her mother’s hand and, in passing, blew an angry raspberry at Sophia. She waved at Samael one last time before the little family disappeared inside the Temple.

Sophia came standing beside her.

“You’re surprisingly good with children…” she commented, sounding puzzled.

Samael thought back on her interactions with the kids. It had been good. She smiled and nodded confidently. “I love children.”

The priestess shot the demon a worried look.

“What?” Samael tilted her head. “They’re pure and innocent. I like that.”

Sophia’s worried expression intensified.

“What? What’s with the stare?”

“Demons love to devour innocent souls the most,” the priestess whispered nervously.

“…Right.” Samael could only snort and roll her eyes. She should have known this was just Sophia being Sophia. The woman worried about the strangest stuff, like burning perfectly good meat in a sad way, refusing to use simple words to describe simple things, or getting worked up about clothing. “What would there even be to punish in an innocent soul? You’re weird.”

Sophia’s expression shifted to one of confusion. “But—”

“You’ll find, my child, that our Sam is an oddity among her kind,” Rachiel approached them, Janik in tow.

“I’m not odd,” Sam protested, eyes narrowing. “Nor am I yours.”

The angel acknowledged the rebuke with a slight nod.

“Don’t be rude,” Sophia interjected, glancing sharply at the demon; then she bowed to Rachiel. “My Goddess, I am ready to depart.” Behind them was the wagon, already loaded with Sophia’s luggage and supplies for the trip back to Fair Isle Landing and the week-long ship journey to the continent. Once on the mainland, they would have to buy more supplies.

Sophia had explained it to her twice already, but Samael was still confused by this whole “trading” concept. Exchanging bits of metal for stuff? And the bits of metal were worth more or less stuff depending on the colour of the metal? That made no sense at all. But instead of questioning it, the demon just chalked it up to her new favourite motto.

Mortals are weird.

Well, regardless, she was not worried. If it was about food, she could just hunt for it.

Rachiel looked down upon her priestess. Her sky-blue eyes were neither cool nor warm. “Good. I know you will not disappoint me.”

“I’ll… do my best, Your Gloriousness,” Sophia replied, clearly unbalanced by her goddess’ indifferent tone. “Err, do you… Do you know where Sister Alberta might be? I thought she would… come see me off…”

“She’s resting.”

“Oh. Of course.” Sophia lowered her eyes in disappointment, thus missing Samael glaring daggers at the angel. “No, it’s fine. I already told her goodbye yesterday.” She squared her shoulders, conjured up a smile and turned to Janik. “Captain of the Guard, I leave the Temple in your hands.”

The beard’s man saluted sharply. “Count on me, milady!” He turned to Samael, who stopped glaring holes in the lying angel to stare back at him. “Lady Magus, keep our lady safe! With all due respect, if I learn she received even a scratch on her, I will find you, and I will run you through with this sword!” He patted the blade at his side.

“Janik!” Sophia looked appalled, but an eager grin returned to the demon’s face.

“I’d love to see you try.”

“Sam!”

The demon shrugged. “But you won’t have to. Anyone who comes close to scratching Sophia will be dead before they can.”

“Sam!! I said no killing!”

“Oh? So you’d have rather I left those bandits alive, then?”

“Well… no… but… ”

“Hahahaha! I like your spunk, Lady Magus! Godspeed then, both of you.”

“Right. Okay. Let’s go.” Samael suddenly could not bear staying here anymore. All she wanted was to drag Sophia away from the suspicious being that ruled the place. She shot one last glare at the angel, who only returned a blank stare; then she grabbed her protégée by the back of her dress and threw her over her shoulder.

“WAH!! SAM!! You shameless brute! Not in front of Her Gloriousness! Or Janik! Sam! Let me down! This is no way to treat a maiden! Sam! SAAAM!!”

Uncaring for Sophia’s protests or her weak fists raining on her back like small pebbles, Samael stomped over to the carriage. From behind her, she could hear the whispers of the beard-man and the angel conspiring.

“Your Gloriousness, should we not have we told her?”

“No. It would only burden her needlessly. She already has much on her thoughts.”

Janik sighed. “…Very well. Let’s go back. We have another funeral to organise.”

Sophia finally calmed down when the doors of the Temple closed loudly behind them—or maybe the epic finality of that sound stole her energy to complain. Samael delicately lowered her to the wagon seat and picked her backpack from the ground.

She looked at the priestess, who clung to the reins tightly but without moving.

“So… where are we going again?”

Sophia exhaled heavily. She rolled her eyes and threw an exasperated glance at the grinning demon. “To Benidith, Holy Capital of the Virtuous Alliance. We went over this already. Did you even listen to anything I told you? Anything at all?”

“Ehh… I’m not sure. You humans talk so much. It’s hard to follow everything.”

Sophia rolled her eyes again. “Insufferable… YAH!” She whipped the reins, and the carriage sped up down the forest road, driving away from the giant white gates of the Fair Isle Temple and towards the town where a ship awaited, ready to carry them onto a brand new continent.

“So, as I told you, we’re going to the Heavenly Synod in the Holy Capital. The Synod is an assembly of…”

Samael tuned out Sophia’s droning explanation, and she took a deep breath of cold forest air. She inhaled a hundred new smells, and she heard a hundred new sounds. So far, the Midworld had been one fascination surprise after the other: good, bad, often confusing, but always exhilarating.

And this was only the beginning.

END OF PART 1

* * * * *