The church bells chimed a melody of finality. The doors to the cathedral closed, and the bustling square turned quiet, mostly devoid of people. An exception to this was a huddled trio standing in front of the Mage Guild. A tall, blonde-haired woman with a willowy frame spoke with interest to a white-haired boy with pale blue eyes and an adolescent girl with a lion’s tail.
After a hushed conversation, the latter two from the trio left, leaving Metis alone to watch them depart. Her eyes lingered with interest on the white-haired boy and the beast girl. While Metis typically wasn’t one for reminiscing, her interaction with them jogged rosy memories of the one of the few individuals she truly cared for: Sumako. Her thin lips tugged upwards as she recalled memories of their first years together. She was still but a child to Metis, but back then, Sumako was naively ambitious in the way only an inexperienced whelp could be. Though, Metis could truly never understand that sentiment firsthand. Not an imitation like her.
“Hey, Metis, it took a while, but I’m finally done at the Mage Guild!” As if on cue, the person of Metis’s thoughts stepped beside her: a fiery-haired, prideful young maiden, a beast girl from the Vulpus tribe. Her striking hazel eyes, simultaneously intense and gentle in their expression, followed the destination of Metis’s gaze. Right on the white-haired boy and lion-tailed girl, talking as they walked away. Sumako’s fox-like ears twitched as gears spun in her head. “Wait a minute. Metis, did you do what I think you did?”
“Mmph? As expected of you, Sumako, you understand quickly,” Metis said, beaming with pride. “If they do their jobs well, it looks as if we’ll have enough funds to finish all of our preparations.”
“T-They’re children… Did you really have to go with them?” Sumako replied, letting out a baffled sigh.
“Is Sumako also not considered a child?” Metis asked sincerely, without a trace of teasing or humor.
“I’m a special case of a genius so I’m not just some child!” Sumako said. She puffed her cheeks in slight frustration. Despite being only thirteen summers, to her, being referred to as a child was the one of the only real insults which could dig into her pride. To be childishly naive and carefree, that was the antithesis to the way of life she touted as her ideal.
“I understand. But might they not be ‘geniuses’ as well?” Metis replied, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “At the very least, we saw that the demon boy has four-fold common affinity and the ability for chantless casting. And ice magic, too. Were you not drooling over in fascination when we watched from afar?”
“Drooling? I wasn’t!... I think…” Sumako replied. “Buuuut, while I can’t deny your point, you’ll still be putting them in danger. Make sure you keep an eye on them, okay? It would be a waste to have a mage of his potential be slain by some ruffians over foolish, petty matters.”
“You needn’t worry. I will perform to the best of my abilities on my end.” Metis covered the hood over her head, obscuring her face. “Shall we meet again at the Gryphon’s Den?”
“Yep, yep,” Sumako said. “Make sure you come back before the sun sets. We have a lot to catch up with Orlando. I bet he’s missed you especially since our last departure.” She wore a teasing, devilish smirk, one whose meaning was lost on the tall huntress.
“It’s been less than two weeks, so I fail to understand your point. And he hasn’t seen you since then as well so I would say he misses your presence just as much,” Metis said with a confused smile. Sumako could only wistfully sigh at the lacking response her companion gave. “In any case,” Metis continued, “I will make a point to be punctual.” She began walking away, following the trail of her two unknowing accomplices.
“Also,” Sumako quickly added, “when you get the chance, don’t forget to apologize to those two for pulling the wool over their eyes!”
The woman promptly nodded and disappeared into the shadows.
***
“Huh? Wha?”
My eyes blinked rapidly; with each blink, the world turned less and less blurred, and the woman across the fire remained in my vision. The grogginess accompanying the awakening from deep slumber disappeared as dream-like sights settled to reality. The mysterious woman sitting there wasn’t a construction of my imagination, as much as I hoped it was.
At this realization, my body jolted up. I sprang up to my feet, my right hand unconsciously drawing to my hip, and I resisted the urge to click my tongue as I remembered that I left my swords back in the city. My body remained in a defensive posture, legs ready to either spring forward and fight or dash away.
“What do you want?” I asked the woman, who had introduced herself as Metis the moment I woke up. Her head slightly tilted at my behavior, though her neutral, stone-faced expression remained unchanged.
“Sit down, you fool.” Shara pulled me back down to the ground, to my dismay. “Let us hear her out this time.”
This time?
My looks of confusion were met by the princess-hiding-in-plain-sight with an exasperated look. Almost as if I was the one in the wrong here.
“Please, I mean no harm. Truly,” Metis pleaded. She threw me a stiff, apologetic smile, one that looked awkward in all aspects, and one that disarmed my initial hostility. “And if my words are insufficient as a means of assurance and apologies, perhaps some food may sway you?” She raised up a bundle of thick smoked sausages. Despite the slight rumbling of my stomach at the sight of food, I made to protest, but I was silenced by Shara’s iron grip on my shoulder, which grew tighter.
“Saying no would be rude beyond reasonable belief, wouldn't it be now, Luqa?” Shara said to me. Her terrifying, chilling smirk, meant to coerce me, would be intimidating if it weren’t for the slight drooling from her mouth. Sometimes, this girl made me doubt her origin; I wouldn’t be surprised if the truth was that she was just a stray forest girl who had nothing to do with the injured gryphon I encountered.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Fine,” I sighed. “Explain yourself, Metis. What the hell exactly happened back there?” Metis didn’t reply. Instead, she silently ruffled through her pack to retrieve an iron frying pan, a large two-pronged fork, and two jars. “Hello, Metis?”
“I was told that one should apologize first, before all else, so I’m making my apologies by preparing a dish. Is that not alright?” Metis tilted her head in slight confusion, which threw me off even more. Was this a strange act? Was this really the woman from earlier?
“I speak for both of us when I say that it is absolutely alright, dear Metis!” Shara exclaimed, unable to contain her enthusiasm, and then threw me another attempt at an intimidating look, which was still marred by a worrying amount of drooling.
“Fantastic, I hope you can endure the wait,” Metis said gently, brushing her hair away from her eyes. She hovered the pan over the flame and threw several sausages into it. The spicy, aromatic scent exuding from the pan was enough to break down my wall of resistance. Even if this was an attempt to poison us, at least Shara was here to willingly act as the Demon King’s food taster.
Demon King’s food taster? I chuckled at the thought. Was there even such a thing?
A heavy realization hit me as my thoughts ran deeper.
As I tried to dig deep into my past memories, I could only come up with a blank. So many aspects of my past life remained obscured behind a mental fog. So many blank voids that spotted my memories as Malachi. Even so, by this point, a handful of memories and lingering feelings told me of a significant part of my own life.
The silence of Metis and Shara as the former prepared the food and the latter watched eagerly provided the peaceful background for me to recall it all with closed eyes.
My crowning as the Demon King at a young age. The worried faces of many in the throne room, uneasy expectations residing on the boy who would inherit the mantle. The heavy, ancient crown resting atop my head which activated the Demon King’s sacred rite.
Not long after, the flight of the demons from their continent after centuries of drawn-out war against those… things. Creatures unlike any, like automatons, whose forms and features I can’t even remember. Beings decided on our annihilation.
The long journey of the fleet across murky oceans until the lands of Nicaea rose from the horizon.
The arrival to the kingdom of Norlaenders, our ships upon their ports. A fearful reception from the humans residing there before receiving an acceptance from the very king of the Norlaenders.
And then our betrayal. A night of flames, a bloody massacre, a deed which we repaid tenfold in the future to come with a merciless retribution: the complete destruction of the kingdom of Norlaenders in less than one year.
The burning city of the capital of the Norlaenders, the hero Siegfried dead at my feet. Fleeing refugees cut down by pursuers.
And then the memories beyond that remained hidden. The next twenty years remained a blank. Except for the very last memory of Malachi: his death and reincarnation.
But beyond that, who was I truly? Between those intense, defining moments, who was Malachi behind the visage of Demon King?
What thoughts did he think of when he woke in the morning? When he faced restless nights? When he simply had the time to sit and think out amongst peaceful nature like this? Or did he – did I – not have that luxury?
With whom did he pass the days with?
“Luqa? Luqa?” A familiar voice called out from the distance.
And one memory that stood out to me – one person – was that of Lady Shara, not the gryphon with whom I traveled as Luqa, but the gentle woman with snow-white hair who smiled so meaningfully in my memories. Who was she to Malachi? And who was Malachi to her?
My teeth grit as determination surged in me. There was only one way to answer these questions.
To piece my soul back whole.
“Huh, did he fall back asleep? He must be quite tired.” A not so familiar voice this time.
But would piecing it back whole grant me what I want? Would it be like piecing back broken porcelain together, unable to be what it once was?
And… would remembering include inheriting the pain, the anguish, the anger, the sorrow, the despair, the torment, the fury, the hatred, the complete misery that painted my past life? Was I even ready for that?
Wasn’t that one tailed demon who invaded our village those years ago driven mad by the soul fragment he inherited accidentally?
“Luqa.” A poke to my cheek roused me back into my present reality. The worried face of Shara hovered over me. In her hand, she had two sausages, each with a wooden skewer. “Are you alright?”
“I-I’m fine.” I wiped my forehead, which had become damp with sweat. Shara’s lips curved into a small smile, though the worry on her face remained.
“You must know, it is quite rude to be sleeping in the presence of a guest who desires your company and conversation. Especially when they make the effort to prepare a delicious meal for us.” She handed me a skewered sausage, which was grilled to perfection and covered in a garnish of red-brown sauce. A sprinkle of yellowish powder topped it off.
“Sorry, it’s been a long, tiring day.” I chuckled slightly to force the heavy thoughts from before away from my mind. This wasn’t the time. Right now, I needed answers not to those questions of the past, but rather to the questions of today. “Thank you for the food, Metis, it looks quite appetizing. Though I’ve never seen this method of preparation for sausages. What is this?”
“You’re very welcome.” Metis’s eyes twinkled, obviously pleased at my comment. “This is something I learned from my travels. The unique flavor of those spices pairs well with the sweetness and sourness of the sauce and the spicy, savory sausage.”
“Really…” I said with genuine interest as I examined it closely. A few cautious sniffs picked up on a complex profile of aromas. “You’ll have to tell me more about it later. What are these ingredients? And what exactly is this sauce as well? I’d like to learn.”
Metis leaned forward. A childish smile was now plastered across her face, a strange contrast to the emotionless visage she usually wore, though not an unpleasant one.
“I would be very happy to do so, Luqa. For the spice powder, it is a mixt–”
“Ahem.” A cough from Shara interrupted Metis. “While it is heartwarming to see such a meaningful connection being made, we would like to discuss first the misunderstanding of today. Isn’t that right, Luqa?”
“Oh,” I said, my enthusiasm somewhat deflated. “You’re right, that’s true. We’d like to hear about that first. What…” My words trailed off as I tried to formulate exactly what to ask. There was indeed a lot to ask regarding what happened back in the lower districts. “What exactly happened? Was the City Watch storming those black market dealers part of your plan?”
Metis promptly nodded. However, instead of supplying a verbal explanation, she rummaged through her pack and retrieved a cylindrical object, which she tilted towards us. The face visible to us showed a needle under a glass covering. The needle pointed straight at us.
“Would you take out the token I gave you and throw it to me?” Metis asked.
I stifled my desire to ask questions, reached into my pockets and grasped the metallic coin. After examining it quickly, I threw it towards her. Catching it, she held it up into the air.
The needle pointed up, following the coin’s direction.