Clara was awoken at some point by a tugging on her shoulder, and she cracked an eye open. Dim light streamed in through the room’s open window. Her body still ached and her limbs were heavy. It was definitely not yet time to be awake.

It was her imp that had woken her up. She could make out its outline in front of her face, perched on the side of the bed. She supposed that meant that the Paladin had also awoken. It would take him a few hours to get into town, though. That meant she could catch some more sleep, she thought as she rolled back over.

The next time she awoke the sun had cut brightly into her room, clearly illuminating everything. Her imp sat atop the windowsill, staring into the chambers. It leaped over to her bed with a flutter of its leathery wings when it noticed her awake.

“What now?” she complained, before noticing the malevolent intelligence that gleamed in this demon’s eyes. It was not her imp.

“Greetings, Miss Elwin,” the demon said with a bow. Despite the unnatural timbre to its voice, it had a surprisingly refined accent. “I have come on behalf of a mutual friend of ours. Your help is requested in Calador.”

Calador? That was the largest city in Regnael, the seat of the king. It was commonly said that it had been built by angels in ancient times. Clara had never seen the city to confirm that herself. It lay two weeks’ travel north of Almerra, maybe more.

Clara sat up, rubbing her eyes. She still ached from the last few days’ exertions, but she was well-rested, at least. “Who is our ‘mutual friend’? And how did you find me?”

“A paltry sum can go a long way in the right hands,” was all the imp replied with.

Clara was silent for a few seconds while she figured that out, the fog of sleep keeping her from making the connection. “Holden,” she eventually said. Of course. It would make sense that he was a warlock, given his wares, and there was no one else she knew who was likely to send a demon as a messenger. There was a ritual for tracking in the tome - of course Holden knew it, and the coins she had paid would allow him to locate her with ease. “Why should I help him?” she asked, making no attempt to mask the irritation in her voice. “He tricked me, hid the truth of what that infernal tome held.”

“Tricked you? From how my master related it, you purchased the tome without even inspecting it. Can he be blamed for your bad business practice?”

She had no response for that; it was her own lack of vigilance that led her to accepting the transaction. “Fine, I’ll accept that I could have been a bit more… discerning in my dealings. The question still stands: what reason do I have to help your master? I’m even less convinced, knowing that he’s an infernalist and not a mere peddler.”

“I would remind you that you happen to be in that same camp, whatever your reasons. We are not so bad as the Church preaches.”

Could she take the demon’s word on that? Whether she could or not, it was true that her actions had made her an enemy of the Church. It wouldn’t be so bad to have allies… but it was Holden’s fault that she was on the run in the first place. Well, partially his fault. “What does he even need my help with?” she asked.

“He and a few of his students - students like you - are working on a ritual. Some of the components are complicated or difficult to acquire, so he needs as many hands as he can get.”

“And I should drop everything, travel across the kingdom to help him? Is there something in it for me?”

“Friends who share your plight, for one. But if that’s not enough to sway you, my master has the means to pay you well for your service. In more than coin, even. That tome you possess only holds the most basic of instructions on harnessing our magic, you see. We could teach you so much more in person.”

Clara almost agreed on that last point alone, though she hated to admit it. “Let me think about it for a moment,” she said instead, and flopped back onto her pillow.

The demon’s offer was like a lifeline in her current situation. She didn’t have any concrete direction at the moment, beyond ‘join an adventuring guild and become famous somehow’. That wasn’t possible in Wayford right now anyway, with that Paladin still near the town - and he was no doubt searching for her.

But would working with Holden be worth it? Money and knowledge would certainly be beneficial, but her ultimate objective was to return home. Fame and renown were what she needed to accumulate, and those were slightly less straightforward goals - ones that she didn’t see working with a bunch of demon sympathizers getting her much closer to.

Still, there was nothing stopping her from working with Holden temporarily. She could send whatever money she obtained home - she doubted her father would refuse a few anonymous donations - and learn what she could from the more experienced warlock. Once she was ready, she could join one of the adventuring guilds in the capital; being more experienced would only make such an occupation easier.

There was one more question she had for Holden’s familiar, though. “What kind of ritual is Holden planning? I can’t imagine anything benevolent coming from such a man.”

The demon flapped up to perch on the bed’s headboard, peering down at Clara. “And what would you know of Master Holden, young Elwin? Do you say that because he uses the magic of my people? It wounds me that even in your situation you still see us as enemies.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“I will try to present our case, though it would be better for Holden to explain it to you himself. My kind - and those who align themselves with us - are shunned and reviled by the masses. It was not always this way; centuries ago, there was a kingdom that rivaled this one, built by my people as much as Regnael was made by angels. Alas, the angels have ever been our most dire of foes, and our kingdom was swept from the map, its people scattered and forgotten.

“We have dwindled since then. Holden seeks to right this imbalance, to restore my people and their mortal allies. This ritual he is conducting will bring us one step towards that goal.”

Clara contemplated the demon’s words. She didn’t know enough about ancient history to dispute them, and knowing what she did about the Church, it was completely within the realm of reason. If all Holden wanted was to restore balance, she didn’t see any problem in aiding that. It would help her, even; should demons become a more legitimate faction in the world, her father would have no basis for excluding her from the family.

“Fine. I’ll go to Calador and help Holden.”

“Wonderful,” the imp replied, rubbing its clawed hands together. “I will return at once to inform him. Safe travels, Miss Elwin.” The demon’s mouth split into a toothy grin, and it jumped off of its perch to fly back out through the open window.

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Clara stayed in bed for a few minutes after the demon left to take stock of her situation. She had no provisions, no map, and didn’t know the exact way to Calador. It was north, but she had a feeling that just following any road north wouldn’t get her to the city.

She didn’t have much coin left. Enough for a couple of days worth of food and lodging, but that was it. If she was going to make it to the capital, she would need more.

Ideally she would have been able to do some adventuring work for one of Wayford’s guilds, but she didn’t think it would be safe with that Paladin still near town. The next town over would still have a few guilds, if it followed the trend.

That was it, then, Clara decided. She would use the last of her coin to reach the next town, do a few jobs, then continue to make her way up to Calador.

It was nice to have a plan again.

She rolled out of bed and grabbed the few belongings she had. Her imp flew out from under her bed to settle on her shoulder, but she shooed it away. “Fly above the roofs or something until I’m out of the town,” she commanded the demon. It chittered at her, and she thought it sounded angry, but it complied and dove out the window.

Clara left her room and descended to the inn’s common room. She used one of her precious few coins to get some food, some sort of stew and rough bread that proved unappealing but necessary. It was to be expected from such a cheap establishment. Despite the quality of the food, Clara found herself feeling slightly revitalized. It was the first time she had eaten in three days.

After she finished her food, she visited Wayford’s town center. Much like Almerra, there were several stalls set up displaying their various goods. She spent a few more of her coins on a new haversack to replace the one she had lost. Then, having more of an idea what to buy than last time, Clara stopped by a stall selling food and picked up some tough-looking bread and dried fruit.

It had cost, but she felt sufficiently provisioned. Not wanting to linger, she left Wayford out its north gate and started down the road. Her imp winged down from the sky a few minutes after she left, settling on the end of her staff.

The day was pleasant, though the sky started to cloud over over as the afternoon crept on. A light breeze occasionally drifted by, fluttering Clara’s clothes and bringing with it the fresh scents of the countryside. To Clara, who had spent her entire life living within the city, it was refreshing. She could almost see why some people came to prefer the road.

The land was flatter than that between Almerra and Wayford, and there were some more signs of settlement. An hour out of Wayford, Clara saw a solitary chapel sitting on the roadside, though she wasn’t sure if it was inhabited. Further down the road she passed by several fields, peasants hard at work tending to them.

After the last few days of uncertainty and hardship, Clara welcomed the chance to simply take in the clean air as she traveled down the road. The trip passed without any incident, and she was almost surprised when she saw a town in the distance. It looked smaller than Wayford, lacking even a palisade around it. She commanded her imp to hide in her rucksack, and an hour later she was passing into town. A watchman stood to the side of the road, leaning nonchalantly on a spear.

“Welcome to Rymoor,” he said to Clara with a nod.

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It was evening by the time Clara was in Rymoor, but still fairly light out. Plenty of townsfolk were still going about their business. Clara stopped the first of them that she encountered, a bulky man with curly brown hair. “Excuse me, do you happen to know anything about any adventurer’s guilds in town?”

The man stopped and looked at Clara, his face scrunched up in concentration. “Well, there’s Ol’ William’s off on the north end. I hear he cheats at dice, though, so I don’t know if you want to go there. Let’s see…” He started counting on his fingers, though he stopped at two. “There’s the Sword and Talon just that way,” he pointed behind him, “but I don’t like how pompous the name sounds. Never been there, mind you.”

“Adventurer’s guilds, huh?” another man who had been passing buy asked. “You don’t want to deal with them, miss. They’re all liars and cheats.”

Another passerby joined the conversation. “Now, you take that back. Just the other month, Ol’ William’s sent someone to help my sister’s husband exorcise a ghost. Now, her husband’s still a pissant, but-.”

The first of the townsfolk Clara had approached looked confused. “Exercise a ghost…?”

“Well, I went to Ol’ Williams to get help finding my sheep just two days past, and they didn’t help me one bit. Had to go and find them myself,” the second man replied.

“Oh, you have to go to the Sword and Talon if you want some real help,” a nearby woman chimed in. “There’s this one soldier who works there…”

Clara stepped away, removing herself from the conversation as the townsfolk continued their argument. She hadn’t learned much from the exchange, but at least she knew where the two guilds were, even if it wasn’t quite clear what the difference between the Sword and Talon an Ol’ William’s was. The Sword and Talon seemed closer, so she started off in the direction the commoner had pointed.

It didn’t take long to locate the guild. The building looked like it had been repurposed from an inn. It was larger than most stores and houses in town, and had two floors to it. A sign bearing a sword crossed over an oversized coin dangled from a post above the door. The outside of the door featured a wooden board, upon which several papers were nailed.

One such paper read “Do Your Civil Duty Today: Keep The Roads Clean”, and had a crudely drawn picture of a goblin’s head with its eyes crossed out, and six silver coins below. Clara thought about all the corpses she had left behind in the forest and lamented her fate. If only she had taken some proof of their demise with her.

As she examined the poster, Clara heard the familiar clink of mail behind her. Her heart froze, and she slowly turned around, coming face to face with the Paladin from the forest.