Alistair and Lady Aiden walked the back garden, winding their way through the shrubs and flowers. Lady Aiden let her hand drift over the plants, her long lashes low, luminous gold eyes lowered. Beside her, Alistair walked, straight-backed, hands tucked behind his back. They walked in silence, neither acknowledging the other.

Out front, hooves clopped and chains jangled. Lord Faitan shouted something, arguing with the police, and Mabel retorted. Bangs and clangs rattled out, echoing around the house. Clattering at an even pace, the horses drew the carriage away. Wheels thumped against the cobbled stone. The iron carriage creaked and groaned as it drew the complaining Lord Faitan away.

Silence.

Dappled light passed over Lady Aiden’s dark gray skin. She reached out and plucked a small, gold flower, letting it rest in her hand. Gazing at it, she sighed quietly. “These flowers… once they grew in our land.”

“Once?” Alistair asked quietly.

She nodded. Turning the flower over in her hand, she closed her hand around it. “Before the Demon Lord… the Dark Lands were a beautiful place.”

“Did you see them?” Alistair asked.

Lady Aiden nodded. “When I was a child. That was almost three hundred years ago, now.”

“What is it like, to be that long-lived? To watch human eras come and go?” Alistair asked.

Lady Aiden laughed. “If you stay among the elves, then there is no difference to human lives. We simply exist for so long. If you mingle with humans or other races, though…” She fell silent.

Alistair waited.

“We dark elves have a myth. A story of an ancient dark elf king,” Lady Aiden said quietly.

“A Demon King?”

She shook her head. “Back then, there was a different way to handle miasma. It may be hard to believe, but back then… a human could hold off all the miasma.”

“A Grand Mage?” Alistair asked.

“Back then, they called them Mage Emperors. The Mage Emperor ruled over all the races, or perhaps… was more of a mascot, with a symbolic role? It happened in such distant history that even our historians are not sure of his exact role in the ancient inter-species society,” Lady Aiden said.

“Then back then, you were still elves?” Alistair wondered aloud.

Lady Aiden looked at him. “May I speak honestly?”

Alistair nodded.

“Dark elves and elves may have once been one race, but it was in such distant history… again, even our historians do not know when it happened. We allow humans to think it was a recent divergence, because humans… have a strange prejudice against dark elves,” Lady Aiden confessed.

“How interesting,” Alistair mused. “Then, this king, what of him?”

“He fell in love. With a human. Ah, there is a whole myth over how he and the human met and fell in love, but it would take me days to tell you. The simple version is that despite his better judgement, he left the lands of the dark elves and entered the human world. There, he met a human, and the two of them came to understand each other after a time together.”

She closed her eyes.

“And then?” Alistair prompted.

Lady Aiden shook her head. “As humans always do, the human died, and our king mourned. And mourned. And mourned. There was nothing that could raise his spirits. His thoughts darkened as the years marched on. The miasma had been conquered, or at least suppressed… again, our historians vary on that.

“However, what they are clear on, is that the miasma returned. The miasma returned, and this time, there was no Mage Emperor or Grand Mage to suppress it. Our king… he absorbed the miasma, but… at that point, many historians believe he was committing a form of suicide, without his beloved human at his side. Or… that he meant to.”

“Instead, he became the first Demon King,” Alistair said.

Lady Aiden lowered her head. “Yes.”

“Quite a different version from the human perspective,” Alistair commented.

“Well, you humans have such short lives and short memories,” Lady Aiden said, shrugging.

Alistair chuckled. “After all, why would such a long-lived race bother to commit murder, when you can simply wait out an old man?”

“I could wait out a young man,” Lady Aiden said, gazing at Alistair.

Alistair bowed. “Understood.”

She took a deep breath and looked at Alistair. “Those scars.”

“Yes.”

“Do you not want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

Lady Aiden ducked her head. “I know it isn’t enough, but I wish to apologize. Although our ancient king had the best of the world in mind, he… inadvertently created the Demon King in his grief. And… perhaps I should have taken the warning more closely.”

Alistair looked at her. “Do you mourn Harold’s death?”

“I knew him for a few years. In a dark elf’s life, that is but a momentary passing. And yet…”

“Because it was so fleeting, it was so much more valuable,” Alistair murmured.

“So you know,” Lady Aiden whispered.

The two of them walked on. The sun filtered down through the old-growth trees overhead, drawing patterns on the ground as they walked, drifting apart, then together, apart, then together. Neither said anything. The leaves rustled. The bugs sang out. Butterflies flapped by. Grass whispered underfoot.

“I suppose he’s won,” Lady Aiden murmured.

“How so?”

She shrugged. “He killed Harold. Who else am I going to find, who will listen to a dark elf like myself? I can wait, but even we dark elves appreciate the moment. If I return to the forest and allow time to pass, the humans will develop their entire infrastructure without us. If I press on, I have to find a benefactor now, or Lord Faitan will develop his entire infrastructure, jail time or no, and we dark elves will be on the outside again, no longer involved in pushing magitech forward.”

“I can get you in contact with some people I know,” Alistair offered.

Lady Aiden looked at him. “I will not hold my breath, but I would appreciate it.”

Alistair sighed. “I have to admit, it’s hard to find people who do not dislike dark elves. The whole Demon King business…”

“I understand,” Lady Aiden murmured. “And especially…”

He held up his hands. “Yes.”

“What was it like?”

“Terrible.”

Lady Aiden shook her head. “Perhaps we should turn our attention inward. Focus on a way to manage the miasma. Wall ourselves off from the humans. Prevent our kings from causing any harm.”

“Haven’t dark elves tried that? A different monster race became the Demon King,” Alistair chuckled.

“It might be too much to solve it now. It may have been too much to attempt to solve it ever,” Lady Aiden smiled.

“Hmm, it’s true,” Alistair allowed.

He closed his eyes.

Darkness. A clouded gray sky that never showed the sun. Dark rain, constantly drizzling down from on high. Icy cold wind, cutting right through damp clothes that never dried. His bony body, shivering. A heavy iron collar clanked around his neck, chain connecting him to the man in front of him, and the woman behind.

He lifted his head. Ahead of him, a hundred other humans, just like him, walking in a slow line. Behind him, a hundred other humans, walking in a slow line. Mud churned up underfoot, sinking into his threadbare boots, slopping around his feet.

He laughed. Chuckling, giggling, unable to stop. His body convulsed, and still he laughed. The man ahead of him looked back, sorrow in his gaze. “You’re not long for the boneyard, are you?”

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Unable to respond, he merely laughed.

From on high, ravens swooped, giant birds with big, soggy wings. Nightmarish things with embers glowing in their eyes and claws like needles, they darted around, dropping out of the sky. Wings as big as the sky, bodies that flickered like shadows, they appeared and disappeared like visions. The people ducked, putting their hands over their heads. Like the rest, he ducked, guarding his head with his hands.

The ravens slashed at him. Needle claws cut thin lines through the back of his hands, drawing blood. Another, then another. The ravens mobbed him, tearing his skin to bits, shredding the thin clothes he wore. He dropped to the ground, curling up on himself.

The woman behind him kicked him. “Get up!”

He giggled.

Another kick. “Get up! I’m not dragging your body. Get up!”

Ahead of him, the man pulled. “Get up, kid. Get up. We have to keep moving.”

Reluctantly, he hauled back to his feet. The man shook his head at him. “Come on. Just to the pit. Just to the pit. Once we get to the pit, you can drop dead for all I care, but you’ve got to get to the pit. We can’t carry you. We can’t. If you go down, the line goes down.”

“If I go down, the line goes down.” The laughing stopped. He climbed forcefully to his feet. One step. Another. His knee gave out. The woman yelped as he fell, yanking her down as well.

He pushed himself up. Behind him, the woman climbed up, cursing him up and down, left and right, until her face went red.

He heard none of it. Only the chain, clank, clank. Only the ravens, caw, caw. Only the wind, sssh sssh. Only the mud, splash, splash. His lips moved, his voice dry, his throat aching. “If I go down, the line goes down.”

“That’s right, kid. Keep at it.”

He nodded. “If I go down, the line goes down. If I go down, the line goes down. If I go down—”

“Alistair?”

A dark elf materialized before him. Alistair lunged. He grabbed her by the throat. His eyes bulged, veins standing out on his forehead. “If I go down—”

“Alistair!”

Alistair jolted. He looked around.

A pleasant garden. Shifting leaves, swaying flowers. The dappled sunlight and a gentle breeze. A lovely day, nothing amiss.

Overhead, a dark shadow swooped. He flinched.

Tweeting pleasantly, a sparrow darted past.

“Alistair, release me,” Lady Aiden demanded.

He turned. His hand still wrapped her throat. Startled, he released her and stepped back. “My—my apologies. I—” He took a deep breath. Closing his eyes again, he activated a skill.

[Clear Mind]

The last vestiges of darkness faded away. Nothing shadowy loomed overhead. No mud pulled at his boots.

Taking a deep breath, Alistair ran his palms down his chest. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t myself for a second there.”

“No. I’m sorry. We’re the ones who did that, aren’t we? We dark elves.” Lady Aiden’s eyelids drooped sorrowfully. The gold glow reflected on her cheeks.

“Not… not you. Other dark elves. They alone bear the responsibility. Not the whole race,” Alistair returned, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying enough attention, and I forgot to reapply the skill.”

“That’s it, isn’t it? Why you decided to become a [Detective]. Not because you wanted to, not because you liked it, but because you didn’t have any other option,” Lady Aiden said, shaking her head.

“Lady Aiden. Please,” Alistair said.

“But is it not?”

He took a deep breath, then nodded. “It is. Without the [Clear Mind] skill, I would be lost.”

“Is there anything we can do to—”

Alistair raised his hand. “Please. It’s too late. There’s nothing anyone can do. I’ve done my best. I’ve found my own way to handle this. I have it under control.”

She snorted, putting a hand to her throat. “Are you sure?”

Alistair snorted. “I’m usually not around dark elves, I’ll be honest. For… for my own good, more than anything else, but also… well, you’ve seen. I can’t be trusted around dark elves.”

“And yet, you still vouched for me, in the case,” Lady Aiden said. “I think that’s noble of you.”

“Vouch for you? No. I seek the truth. I don’t want to back lies. No matter what… no matter what,” Alistair said firmly.

She looked at him. “So even if one of them appeared in front of you, would you still defend them? If they were innocent. Truly innocent.”

Alistair closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. His heart raced. His hands clenched.

All at once, he released it. The breath slipped out of him. His hands unwound.

He opened his eyes and smiled. “I would. I would find the true perpetrator, and do everything I could to bring them to justice. Because the victims don’t deserve to be told the truth, simply because of my biases.”

“And if the skill wasn’t active?” Lady Aiden asked.

Alistair spread his hands. “If the skill isn’t active, I can hardly string a full sentence together, Lady Aiden. I don’t know what you expect of that part of me. That me, he’s broken. There’s nothing left.”

They walked on. Lady Aiden put her hands behind her as she walked, watching the ground. The wind grew stronger. Overhead, clouds scudded across the gorgeous, robin’s-egg-blue sky.

In the distance, a teleportation pad flashed, the blue light visible from where they stood, far away atop the hill. Alistair turned for a moment, looking after it. Lady Aiden turned as well. Her brows furrowed, and she sighed, then shook her head.

“Of course, I’d also bring them to justice,” Alistair said casually. “The ones who did that to me. But I’d do it for crimes they committed. I wouldn’t lie and make them the suspect in a murder they didn’t commit.”

“How noble. Truly, Alistair Norwich is a noble man. If everyone in this godforsaken country could be like you, I think the world would be a better place,” Lady Aiden said.

Alistair snorted. “Is that true? If they’re all broken? If they’re so torn apart that there’s nothing left, unless they have a skill constantly active?”

“That’s… not what I meant. You know it isn’t,” Lady Aiden replied earnestly, looking up at him.

Alistair shook his head. He averted his eyes. “Lady Aiden, never pursue a career in politics. You’re no good at it.”

She sighed. “I know. That’s why I was trying to pursue a career in technology, magic technology. But now that’s blown away. I… what can I do? What should I do? What’s my next move?”

“You have another eight hundred or so years to figure that out. I merely have another eighty.” Alistair glanced at her playfully, a small smile on his face.

“I—I’m still, I still feel pressure—” Lady Aiden turned and saw his smile. She frowned, crossing her arms. “Alistair Norwich, you know it’s not polite to tease a lady.”

“You haven’t yet accused me of being a polite man,” Alistair returned.

She laughed. “No, I suppose I haven’t. And yet, you’ve been nothing but polite, at least until you started teasing a lady.”

“Which, as we established, not polite,” Alistair said. He grinned and shook his head at her. “Lady Aiden, how did you like the human world? What do you think of us mortals, from your lofty immortal position?”

“I’m not immortal. I’m already almost unmarriageable,” Lady Aiden said, chuckling. She shook her head. “It’s no lofty position. I’m nothing special, no one special. I’m just a dark elf.”

“Well, then, I’m just a human,” Alistair returned.

“You’re the lone [Detective]. That’s someone special,” Lady Aiden replied.

Alistair spread his hands. “And you are probably the only dark elf that Mabel will ever see in her life. Doesn’t that make you special?”

“Because I’m the only dark elf a [Maid] will ever see?”

“You’re special to her,” Alistair pointed out.

Lady Aiden sighed. She put a hand on her forehead. “Somehow, talking with you is exhausting me.”

“Ah, I’ve heard that, I’ve heard that.”

Silence fell over them again.

They stood some distance from the house. It diminished in the background, a distant shape atop the hill, while they stood at the far end of the crest, at the end of a long, long garden. Between them and the house, there was no one. Nothing but the birds and the bugs, a squirrel, a few chipmunks.

“It’s so peaceful here,” Lady Aiden whispered. “Three hundred years ago, our country was like this too. Three hundred years ago…”

“Why not live here? Tristan will soon be looking for a new love,” Alistair suggested.

“How callous,” Lady Aiden said.

He shrugged. “On the span of your life, even if he takes years to get over Millie, isn’t it but a blinking?”

“True, but doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t respect his mourning. To him, it’s a significant portion of his life.” Lady Aiden squinted at Alistair. “And besides, didn’t I just tell you about our ancient king, the first Demon King? The one who dared to love a human?”

“Ah, well, if you became the Demon King, I think it might not be so bad,” Alistair said, spreading his hands. “In any case, it’ll be long after I die. What is that to me?”

“How callous.”

Alistair grinned at her. “Hmm. Well, you’ll notice I didn’t suggest you marry a man older than myself.”

“Callous indeed! Do you think our king went mad immediately after his spouse died?” Lady Aiden said, clicking her tongue.

“Perhaps. I don’t know. What is time, to your people? When you live so long, is there much difference between a moment and a year, a year and a century?”

“Time doesn’t become meaningless just because we live a few hundred years more.”

“But eventually it would, right? At some point.”

“If we lived eternally, perhaps. But even we die. Just like humans. Just like every other race.”

Alistair tilted his head. “So even the Demon King will die?”

Squinting at him, Lady Aiden nodded slowly. “Did you think he didn’t? The Hero killed him not long ago, you know. A mere twenty years ago.”

“A mere twenty years,” Alistair muttered, shaking his head. “These kinds of things are why people call you immortals.”

Lady Aiden sighed. She shook her head. “There’s nothing I can say to convince you otherwise, is there?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well then.” Lady Aiden walked away. She drew to the edge of the ridge and looked down.

Alistair walked up beside her. The two of them stared out, not on the town, but out into the wilderness. Untamed forests stretched near-infinitely, a sea of swaying green canopies, twisted undergrowth tangled together underneath. In the far distance, a lake glimmered, silver-black to counterpose the blue sky.

“You could kill me,” Lady Aiden murmured.

“I could,” Alistair allowed. He looked at her. “I could try.”

“True. Would you? Try,” Lady Aiden asked. “If you could kill me.”

“I’ve already told you. I have no interest in holding a grudge against all of your people. Only those who tortured me deserve to be brought to justice.”

“But what about the rest of us? The ones who turned away. The ones who whispered to ourselves that we had to do what it took to survive, and allowed the Demon King to do as he wished.” Lady Aiden’s eyes burned into Alistair’s. She put a cold hand on his chin. “Do you not blame us? All of us, who could have tried. Who could have stopped them. Could have rescued you.”

“You would have ended up in the pits with the rest of us,” Alistair said evenly.

“And what about the other you? What would he say?”

Alistair sighed. “This conversation is meaningless. I’ve already told you. There’s nothing left. That isn’t a ‘different me,’ it’s nothing. It’s the trash left at the bottom of a barrel. Gunk and muck. Not a person. Not anything.”

“But would he?” she asked.

Exhausted, Alistair gestured. He looked her in the eye, his gaze tired. “He would. He would kill anyone. He isn’t well. He doesn’t know what he is, or where he is, or who he is. He’s in pain, and he wants to end that pain, or at least suffer it upon someone else. That’s why I need the skill. That’s why I need to be a [Detective].”

“But if that’s the case, then how did he become a [Detective]?” Lady Aiden asked. “He had to study for that, right? He had to focus. He had to sit still and be whole. I think there’s more left than you think. You shouldn’t give up on yourself.”

In Alistair’s memory, a soft hand touched his.

He pulled his hand back as if burned and put it behind his back. “Perhaps he was. Perhaps… once, there was something left. A scrap. A spark. But it died. It was killed, the same as everything else. Lady Aiden, is there a purpose to this? Is there a reason you’re prodding my wounds?”

She looked at him. “Consider it the vanity of a long-lived people, to feel pain when they see someone so short-lived working so hard to destroy themselves. You only live a handful of years. I could waste a hundred years deluding myself. But you barely have a hundred years to live. If you don’t face reality now, you’ll never be able to face it again.”

“That’s fine. I think that’s perfectly fine. Lady Aiden, let me tell you about us short-lived races. We’re delicate. We’re pathetic. We only live so long, because we can only survive so long.” Alistair took a deep breath. He walked up to the cliff’s edge. “I understand, but I don’t need your vanity. Take your sad eyes and go.”

“I understand.”

Lady Aiden bowed to his back. Magic shimmered around her, and she vanished, leaving Alistair all alone on the cliff’s edge.

Nothing but him and the wind. Him and the sky, and the land so far below.

He swayed forward, weight swinging over the edge.

Back. He stepped back.

“I might be pathetic, but I’m surviving,” he whispered to the wind, and walked away.