Just a year ago, Harald and his daughter, Liv, would spend the time that he had in between his work at the stables playing together. She was a particular fan of Chess and something of a prodigy if you were to ask Harald. Indeed, part of the reason he worked so much at the stables was because he was convinced that his daughter was a genius, and if he just raised enough money to truly stimulate her education in the ways that only money could, he would raise a truly exceptional young lady. Unlike some children, who would be crushed by the burden of such a parent’s expectations, Liv met and then exceeded Harald’s wildest dreams. She devoured advanced assignments, picked up skills and talents rapidly, and, through it all, remained a lovely, outgoing young girl who would surely grow up to do something great someday.

That was a year ago. Now Liv lay in a cot on the floor of the Temple. They had too few beds to put her in something proper. Nobody could tell Harald what was wrong with her because not even they could quite figure it out. At all hours of the day, she was set upon by indescribable pain. A wet cloth was kept in her mouth, dipped periodically in freshwater so that she could bite down instead of screaming. And for most of those hours, Harald sat at her side, letting her clench onto his fingers until it felt like they would break as she made some futile attempt to fight against the forces that were destroying her body.

Were you able to shrink down to the size of a small bug, get within Liv’s body without damage, and explore until you found the bones of her legs, you’d discover the source of her pain. A gray, lumpy mass was attached to both legs; sticking out of the bone and sticking small spines into her muscles and veins. Were you to shrink even smaller while retaining your ability to see from a mostly human perspective and crawl between the bone and the tumor, you’d see the many jagged spikes created by its presence, like fallen leaves sticking out of the grass. And were you to accelerate time, you’d see the bones gradually give way and break as this tumorous mass forced them to release more calcium into the bloodstream than it could handle, eventually killing Liv.

In a twisted form of mercy, Liv never had to experience that death. Distant yelling and clattering prompted Harald to emerge from his misery and look around. Bringing himself to release his hand from her grip, he stood up to see what the commotion was. It would turn out that the commotion had come to him. He saw a young woman with flowing, dark hair, who he had vaguely recalled seeing earlier that day, walking towards him. She held out her fingers, and a concussive wave flew out from them. When it connected with his head, his skull snapped backwards so forcefully that his spine at the base of the neck shattered before he could even make a sound. Liv could barely register the loud cracking sound as another wave of agony that blended into the last rocked her body. Vual tilted her head at the sight of the child before extending her fingers and releasing another wave that crushed her skull.

“Now, where are the rest of them?” Vual muttered to herself as she spun around and exited the room.

At around that time, a throng of panicked Healers and visitors began flooding upstairs. Brandon had to stop his explanation of The Book of the Blessed and leave Emily to her own devices as he ran up to the group.

“What’s happening?”

He was met with very few responses, with most people running to wherever they could justify as being the most safe. The few people who did stay to respond, mostly Healers, all let out their answer in a chaotic cacophony of words.

“She’s surely crazed!”

“They’re all dead!”

“We have to get out!”

“The exits!”

Brandon raised his hand and voice at once. “Get to the back offices, now!”

He watched them scatter. He had no idea what could cause them to panic like this, but based on what little information they gave him, he guessed it was some kind of attack. The Priest surely would have dealt with this, which made it worrying that it wasn’t dealt with by now. Still, he knew exactly what to do. He rushed to the stairwell and extended his hand. A small blue light radiated from his palm, which grew and grew until it formed a thin, transparent block that stretched until it formed a barrier that would’ve prevented any human being from walking up the stairs and into the administrative area.

And as soon as he was finished, Emily tapped his shoulder. “What’s happening?”

Brandon couldn’t help but jump, but he still spun around and began to yell. “Are you unwell? Get out of here! Go hide!”

“I’d rather not,” Emily replied flatly. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“Some kind of attack,” Brandon offered. “Now run!”

“There will be no need for that,” the Priest replied.

Emily and Brandon both watched as the woman stepped up to the barrier, looking exhausted. Her hair was windswept, and she was breathing heavily as if she had finished a great battle as the decisive victor.

“Oh, thank the Gods,” Brandon sighed before laughing. “I should’ve known you’d have it handled. Let me just open the barrier-”

“There will be no need for that, either,” she replied. Before Brandon’s eyes, she smiled and stepped forward, effortlessly crossing a barrier that no human could.

Brandon barely had time to register the information. His eyes widened, and his skin developed a sickly pallor as she raised her hand slightly, pointing it at his waist before releasing another concussive blast. The impact slammed into his waist, and he was flung backwards across the floor.

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Emily used her best attempt at logic at that moment. Brandon had to have been a good person; after all, he was an idiot who was trying to help her. That was usually a good thing. This woman had attacked Brandon for no obvious reason. Attacking good people for no reason was probably a bad thing. And this woman was likely the cause of all of the chaos going on, as someone who randomly attacks good people is likely the source of a lot of chaos. Ergo, Emily probably should kill her.

By the time Emily processed that information, the woman already wrapped a hand around Emily’s neck. Inhuman strength squeezed the fleshy approximation of a throat that Emily had, causing no obvious discomfort or pain to the tree manifested as a woman.

“What-” Vual began before Emily grabbed the Priest’s hair and wrenched her back, forcing her to release the girl’s throat.

Emily stepped forward and pushed her hand down, yanking Vual by the hair and forcing her onto the ground. The demon quickly spun to try and escape the grip, but Emily dropped her knee squarely onto the demon’s sternum. Vual only let herself panic for a moment before she raised her hand and fired off another blast. This one knocked the non-existent wind out of Emily as she was launched backwards, landing on her tailbone and sliding a good distance along the tiled floor before coming to a stop.

Vual stood back up and cackled. “Some kind of projection, huh? That would explain it well enough, I suppose.”

The sound of laughter filled Emily’s eardrums as she laid flat against the floor. This was a new and entirely unwelcome sensation. Pain. True, physical pain. On some level, that should have been impossible. After all, her body wasn’t physical. As that strange woman theorized, she was, in fact, a kind of ‘projection.’ At a later point in time, she’d learn that the attack that had laid her out was Magic, and her body being a form of Magic was fair game; any Magic attack could hit her directly. But for now, a new feeling accompanied her pain. Fear. After all, if this woman could attack her so easily, what else could she do?

Emily’s thoughts were interrupted by Vual, inhabiting the Priest’s body and leaning over her. The wide smile across her youthful face was uncanny, a window into the demon that had taken over this form. “Any last words, woman?”

In response, Emily sat up as rapidly as she could and grabbed Vual’s collar. The Demon raised its hand once more to attack, but Emily yanked her backwards. Keeping her arms as erect as possible as she fell backwards, the resulting application of force resulted in Vual being yanked off of her feet and thrown into the air. Emily let go midway through her fall, releasing the demon and allowing her to land several feet away directly onto her face. After bouncing off of the tile, Vual lifted herself back to her feet and spun around to look at Emily, who was also standing, with an expression of hatred.

“Damn you! I’ll enjoy meeting your soul again in Hell!”

Hell, Emily thought. That was the place where bad people went, as far as she understood. Emily knew that she wasn’t a bad person, so if this strange woman promised to meet again in Hell, then that meant she acknowledged herself as a bad person. Emily couldn’t help but smile. Something deep down in her brain would enjoy this resulting battle.

As she reached that realization, David and Ayata poked their heads around the corner from the room they had holed up in. Ayata wouldn’t say anything, but David’s mind was racing. He knew that Emily was associated with the University, but having the ability to descend into fisticuffs with a demon without being turned into a large pile of foul-smelling viscera was something extraordinarily remarkable. For a moment, he wondered if he wasn’t getting the best out of his decision. Emily would slay Vual, he could leave, Ayata’s explanation could be explained later, and their bargain was resolved.

But then he thought about it for a moment longer. For one, there’s no guarantee Emily would win. The difference between creating a fair fight and winning a fight was vast. Then there was the question of if Vual would hold a grudge over her fun being ended in such a frustrating manner. Would she spend the rest of the siblings' lives hunting them, desperate to eke out whatever fitting revenge she thought of for their unwillingness to help her? And suppose they received their proper Baptisms, and then sinned greatly in life somehow, and then went to Hell upon their demise? What would happen if they met Vual once more? David was increasingly figuring out that Vual winning was, as paradoxical as it may seem, the option that kept himself and Ayata most secure.

He looked at Ayata, and she looked back. In that wordless way that communication is sometimes done, they realized that the other had come to the same conclusion. Ayata in particular, out of fear and knowledge of what Vual was capable of, had decided she needed to warm up to the demon’s good side as rapidly as possible. If she found herself in Hell once more, she couldn’t bear to think of what creativity hatred could add to her torments.

While the twins considered what to do next, Emily slammed against the nearest wall. Vual let out a hiss before pulling her out of the stone and flinging her into the opposite wall. This time, Emily let herself bounce off of the wall before spinning around and slapping the Demon. Her hand was stiff enough that Vual saw stars as she stumbled backwards moments before Emily tackled her to the ground. She understood that this Priest’s power rested primarily on her Magic in this battle; another one of those strange concussive blasts, and Emily could have legitimate fears for her safety. So she pressed her body close to Vual’s, grabbing the demon’s wrists and pinning her to the ground; positioning herself to sit on the demon’s pelvis to prevent it from escaping the hold.

“Get off of me!” Vual protested as Emily forced the Demon’s arms above its head before holding down on both of its wrists with one hand.

Emily’s body was only as strong as an average person’s, but the nature of her existence made her immune to many of the body’s natural limitations. Physical pain, exertion, exhaustion, and for the most part, fear, were all nonfactors in her performance. Were a normal person to hold down Vual’s hands in such a manner, Vual would thrash and protest, and their muscles would strain and begin burning, and eventually, they’d be forced to let go. Vual herself felt the same degree of pain and injury as the body she inhabited did, so the same power wasn’t present in her form. That made her unable to do anything but watch as Emily’s other hand moved down to wrap its fingers around the throat of the Priest’s body.

David and Ayata stood up as they watched Emily begin to strangle the demon. As much as they hated to do it; out of pure, practical self-interest, it had to be done. Without a word of communication, David rushed forward, grabbed Emily’s hair, and yanked her up and off of Vual. Emily didn’t protest as she turned and saw David, and only for a moment, she wondered what interest the Librarian had in stopping her from strangling a bad person. She pushed him away effortlessly, turned, and felt something heavy collide with her head. Stumbling to the side, she looked and saw a woman she didn’t recognize; clearly recoiling with her hand, having punched Emily. Emily was going to raise her voice and protest, but then something else moved out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw Vual’s outstretched finger before a concussive blast blew the top of her skull off. Strange vapor dusted off of the cavity as Emily collided with the ground, and were you to look inside of the cavity; you’d see an unnatural blackness.