...with the night's wrath...

~

I had to be getting somewhere important, considering there were actually monsters in these depths now. Not just a here and there boar, either, there were some non-sentient demons (not that I know what they're actually called), strange and fearsome beasts, and even a whole goblin hideout.

It was with them that I took my sweet time carefully planning out an attack - it went up in flames, thanks for asking - and I was quite thoroughly disappointed to gain only a few coins and some old and dried jerky.

At this point, they were all just experience. That makes me sound like I'm in a game in a way, which is at least a little ironic, since this is absolutely anything but that, but I couldn't stop myself from having fun and treating it like it was. I liked to pretend I was using skills, even naming some of my "attacks" and putting together "combos," which helped me figure out how to fight at least a little better.

My spade-ended tail was easily my favorite weapon, reserved only for finishing formidable foes as its end was incredibly sharp, and with practice, could move faster than the eye can see. Using it wasn't easy, though, since I had to adjust to using muscles I've never used before, and it was like learning to catch again - only instead of growing my hand-eye coordination, I'm growing tail-eye coordination.

Especially given that I had nothing else to do other than throw around Vaxen the Phoenix, who has grown quite grumbly and sleeps a lot lately, fighting and killing are easily my favorite pastimes. Which isn't to say I'm some genocidal maniac (okay maybe a little bit), but it was nothing more than kill or be killed down here, so why not make it fun?

The one thing that was an empty dead end was magic. There were a few times during long, boring stretches of my wandering where I'd pass through the old, dead, barren caves, and I'd manage to concentrate hard enough to get maybe a few sparks from my hands or the tiniest draft, but I had no control over it.

No control. That was a frustrating phrase, especially when it comes to something I want so desperately. I had absolutely zero say in how my utter lack of casting went. I tried hard to think back to what it felt like when Lasory showed me magic, but I think I can just chalk it up to the fact that he was a good teacher who was putting on some major training wheels for me.

Without him, though, I was nothing more than a complete loser in the sorcery department - really in the fighting area, too, but in that I was at least improving a little bit.

Each time I tried, it didn't last very long because I'd just get pissed off, yell out, punch a wall and split my knuckles open, and then run ahead in a fit of anger.

Things in this cave didn't stay cave forever, though, and I started coming along some much more man-made tunnels.

I could tell they were walked upon at least somewhat often, and some of them even had old, faded signs or carvings, or were a bit whittled down as to look more uniform, like a real hall, with supports and beams and the like.

Once I started finding these, I came on edge. There weren't any more monsters, but what I did find... was people.

It didn't take long for me to stumble on a trio of demons making their way along a completely man-dug tunnel wearing casual clothes and talking in a language I couldn't understand, and my immediate reaction was to hold my breath and duck around the corner until they were long gone.

I pulled my fur coat close for comfort, covering my hand which tightly gripped my knife, and felt my tail tense as I inevitably went the same way as them, until I left a small, insignificant tunnel and walked out to a simply massive cavern, one big bubble that was full of shoddy buildings and people all over the place.

There were no corners to hide around, but since nobody was directly by me, I pressed myself up against the wall and fondled the knife with both of my hands for some sense of comfort that it ultimately didn't give me.

I was breathing heavily and already saw flashes of all the people and streets and buildings and things happening in my mind.

Okay, deep breaths. One, two... three...

Here goes

Slowly peeling myself from the comfort of the stone wall that I'd become oh so familiar with, I mustered up the grit to enter the city, putting up the hood of my cloak and giving way to my amazement. There were even some smaller open chunks higher up in the walls of the cavern where wooden staircases led to groups of homes.

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This was an underground city, and every single person within it was a demon.

But they weren't wearing battle clothes or lab coats or carrying knives like the ones at that research lab. They were seemingly normal people living in what seemed like an impoverished, yet at least somewhat happy little town.

Seeing all these people gave me the urge to just downright throw up. Before, I was nervous and shy, but now anything remotely sentient disgusts me. This was an exception.

I was astonished. A handsome young man led a beautiful woman, both in seemingly casual clothes, along the gravel path. They were demons, but they were cute, clearly a couple and without a care in the world.

And curiosity killed the demon in the cloak, who tiptoed along the same path and couldn't help but be more amazed than introverted.

In a small town square, children played near an old and barely recognizable statue in its center. I regrettably found them cute.

Only a few more steps down the street was a small bar, kinda creaky like the western movies, and I heartily decided I'd take my rest for the day there.

What are you gonna do, come down here and stop me?

I sat down in this relatively empty bar, where a single, well-kept bartender stood polishing a glass. He had purple eyes, which were content and hardly open. It only gave me an eerie feeling.

He says nothing as I sit down, but slides me an amber-colored drink, which I slowly pick up and inspect, realizing I was about to have my first sip of alcohol in a cave full of strangers, all of which are demons.

But it's not every day in the good ol' maze you get a good sip of alcohol, and whatever this was looked at least decent, not that I have an eye for it, so down the hatch I went. And by down the hatch I mean a slow and cautious sip.

I retched at first at its gripping, strong, foul taste. After another sip, though, it was bearable. Something about the absolute bitterness was in its own way sweet. Perhaps just my pride growing on me, or just the thought of having a taste to match my mental state.

Slowly and thoughtfully, but surely, I polished off the drink, then realized the man gave me the drink without me even paying.

I sighed and asked at almost a whisper, "what do I owe you?"

"It's quite alright," he replies in a rich voice, unbreaking from his glass polishing. I shifted, uncomfortable with both the burning in my stomach and his unflinching persona. I say persona because it felt like he was putting on an act - albeit extremely good.

He merely filled my cup, and I grew quickly irritated. I had the itching feeling that he knew I was new, and really he knew I knew he knew I was new. You get that feeling sometimes right? I sensed he was seeing straight through me and reading every thought as though it were a stream of words floating right above my head.

It was a frustrating itch and I'm not one for tension or veils, so I slammed my fist on the counter.

"Drop the act," I demanded. "What is this place? What do you know?"

Without the slightest flinch (insert rage noise) the bartender explained, "It's a town of demons, of course. Plenty of people - families of soldiers, all the like. All trapped here, just as our fathers, and theirs and such on."

I nodded and then droned off in thought, thinking, of course not all demons are bad. My time with Lockwood has shown me the good side, and quite frankly I never had the opportunity to see the bad in them the way everyone else does, so it honestly struck me as quite offensive that all these demons are locked away in this dark and gloomy underground town.

"How are you sealed?" I asked, realizing I just walked in here.

"A spell put in place after the death of Caiasiara whose proponent may only be unlocked with a physical key."

It seemed too good to be true. The random yet fancy key the twins gave me. Honestly, pocket this line of thought.

"Caiasiara?"

The man seemed to pause just a little bit.

"An old name for sure, and not one very well thought of," he began as his eyes opened to reveal once again their deep, almost glowing purple. "The former demon king, who passed away near the beginning of the Kavari war so that the new one could come into power."

I could tell he didn't normally speak so plainly, which made my clench my other fist beneath the counter as I realized he was speaking to me like I was stupid.

"He was a god, and a force not to be toyed with, trusted, or thought of as anything less than a terrifying enemy."

And I've gone and struck a deal with him. Smart.

I halfheartedly thanked him for the information and then slammed down the rest of my drink, then asking for something more potent, to which he obliged. That one went straight down, leaving a nasty burn in its wake, but oh did the burn feel so nice, and so did the numbness it brought after.

If only even for a few short-lived moments, I was free of my unending frustration and bottomless hopelessness, left teetering on the balance between real life and a small taste of even a glimpse of happiness.

The miserable taste alone was beyond refreshing, and I realized I forgot what it's like to feel happy. Not that I haven't felt joy, but this was different from the rush I get during a kill.

I asked where I could go to sell some stuff and wound up a tiny shop, where I got a few dinky coins for my boar hide and few scraps and knick knacks I had laying around in my pockets. I bought a cheap water pouch, a hammock, and a flask of alcohol so I'd have something for the trek ahead. Not that it was probably any good but it was something and heaven knows I'll need it.

Not that heaven knows much down here. I know I'll need it.

My last coin, a larger one that I didn't have a name for, I stopped by the bar and flipped at the bartender. He caught it and pocketed it with godly sleight of hand, then gave me a wink and a smile as I left. As much as I'd love to stay and admire the children, I'm not trapped like the rest of these people and I need to get out of this cave before the will I already don't have leaves me.