What about my title as Sovereign of Wrath?

The thought came to me soon after I left my room with Sonia. Would what I’m thinking, of restraint and care and self-reflection to avoid moving lines in the sand further and further away, actually make sense for the Sovereign of Wrath?

Would Zerix’Arranthariel behave with such restraint and altruism?

I watched Sonia walking ahead of me. Her tension that’d been around since we’d first met was gone, and the only tightness in her posture came from how she cradled her injured hand. An injury I caused that she showed not a shred of anger toward. Likewise, as much as the stone suppressed my ability, I didn’t feel any significant anger in the castle.

More when I am walking about the town, but that I understood.

It’d be easy to say something as simple as “I am my title, my title is not me” or another platitude. But it wasn’t that simple. I couldn’t just go back to my pre-Vivian outlook, not just for the impossibility of it, but for the necessity of an ability to be swiftly decisive.

I also couldn’t justify my means with the ends. Simple saying, ancient saying, but it’d stuck around for a reason. Ultimately, I had power, I would use said power, and in turn I would hold myself and my judgment over others purely by virtue of might.

Ugh.

I hated it. Why couldn’t I just have a cute cozy cottage somewhere in Edath with Sey and Joisse? Obviously it was because of my title.

Not literally… well, sorta. It was the same responsibility and weight my strength gave me. I’d learned to allow my friends to be a part of that, to relax control. I’d learned the necessity of a degree of separation between myself and humans whom I did not consider close friends.

All this circular logic was to say that…

I’d be mindful.

I’d be careful.

I’d listen to others, and act with intent and restraint to continue to be a part of the society I desperately wanted to exist within.

Because if I kept down the path justifying my actions without empathy of the opposing side, I’d lose myself. Eventually, in such a case, the absolutes would begin to make sense. So I just needed to stay the course somewhere in the middle.

To keep alive my idealism and not fall into cynicism, and to keep my damn sense of humor. Where were the puns lately? The groan-inducing remarks?

Until Sonia had made me think I hadn’t even realized where they’d gone. I guess a little of the noble mask stuck to me after all, glued on by this idea that I needed to harden myself to survive.

I’m one of the most godsdamned powerful individuals on Varra—who the hell can tell me I need to give up being a softie to get things done?

…Seyari did.

The realization hurt. Not a sharp pain, but a dull sort of ache in my heart. I wanted to think of Seyari as perfect, as always offering the words of wisdom I needed, but… this was fundamental. This wasn’t a small thing.

This was her mindset. Seyari wouldn’t want me to lose this part of myself, of course. I knew she wanted what she thought was best.

But the realization that I disagreed with what was best—and had good evidence I was right… Well, it stung.

Then again, it wasn’t like Sey was opposite of how I wanted to be.

Sure, I needed to understand certain situations, but I couldn’t very well go about happy for all the death and destruction.

At that point, I’d seem almost like some kind of demon, and that just wouldn’t do!

I wasn’t just “some kind” of demon, I was my kind of demon, damnit!

Looks like I haven’t lost it completely.

I basked in my own corny humor and self-actualization until Sonia asked me something.

“Sorry, I was in my head—what’d you ask?” I said apologetically.

“Oh, I was just wondering about your daughter. Salvador didn’t mention you had a daughter, and you implied she could heal.”

Dhias, I suck at keeping secrets.

“Right.” I let a wide grin split my face. “Well, it’s a long story—but I want to tell you!”

“Can you at least tell me her name?”

“Joisse! She’s, uh, well she’s probably about sixteen—it’s hard to really judge with demons. She was involved in a contract, and a lot of magic I don’t fully understand happened, but she’s mine and Sey’s now. More than adopted, not that otherwise would make me love my daughter any less, and…” I trailed off in the face of Sonia’s bright giggles.

She looked up at me. “Dad thought you’d be fine, you know. And I think you will be too, for what it’s worth. You seem like a good person, Renna.”

“I… thanks, Sonia.”

She nodded.

“Y’know, I’m usually the one doing this for my friends and family.” I scratched at a horn, uncaring of how ignoble it looked. “Feels weird to be on the other side.”

Sonia shrugged. “Well, you know Dad. And Mom was even worse about it.” She put a hand up to the side of her mouth and whispered. “Sometimes, when I messed up, I almost wished she’d just punish me and get it over with.”

I snorted. “Taava’s told me much the same.”

“Your bard friend?”

“…Something like that.”

“Another long story?”

I shook my head. “It’s just something you should hear from her, not me.”

Sonia’s brow furrowed, but quickly lifted with a smile. “Fine by me.”

We turned a corner into a rather drafty hallway and Sonia pulled her blouse a little tighter. Absentmindedly, I threw a little warmth her way. She stiffened in shock, then melted into it.

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“Did Salvador tell you I’m also part stove?”

“He said part-campfire.”

“Shouldn’t have those indoors, you know.”

Sonia giggled, and pointed. “This is Inva’s room.”

I waited for her to knock, but she looked at me expectantly. So, I walked over and knocked. “Inva? It’s Renna—I was hoping we could talk.” I bit back the instinctive “it’s nothing serious” because it kinda was.

We heard shuffling from inside, then a sleepy, familiar voice answered. “What… Renna? Is everything alright?”

“Sonia helped me think through some things. I was hoping we could spend a little time catching up, and maybe I could assuage your worries about me.” I looked down at Sonia’s injured hand, but before I could say anything, she shook her head. Not going to mention the injury yet then.

Best not mention it yet, then.

On the other side of the door, I heard Inva yawn. She took a little while to respond. “That’s… direct.”

“Would you rather I beat around the bush?”

“I suppose not.” More shuffling. “Right. Well, come on in then, I guess. Don’t mind the mess.”

With a quick glance at a nodding Sonia, I opened the door and stepped inside. Aside from a slightly disorganized pile of clothing and armor, the room was clean—a bed, a nightstand, and little else. Clean and cold. The embers of a dead fire glowed softly in the fireplace, and the only other light was a small candle by a bed absolutely covered in blankets and bedding.

On the bed, sat Inva, wrapped up and drowsy looking, with her hair mussed and nose a little red. She looked more at Sonia than at me, and Salvador’s daughter gave a little wave, purposefully hiding her injured hand. Are they an item?

“Who gave you this room?” I asked.

“I think her name was Shyll?” Inva replied.

Of course the persnickety lust demon would give the Paladin of Dhias a drafty room! I knew we had better.

“I’ll get you moved somewhere nicer in the morning. Sonia, are you in a room like this?”

She nodded, hesitantly. “Just down the hall. I know the castle’s disused, so you really don’t need to—”

“Nonsense. This is unacceptable. For now, though.” I snapped my claws and a crimson fire roared to life in the fireplace, fed as much by my mana as by the remaining bits of timber. With another thought, the warm breeze around Sonia expanded to fill the room.

She relaxed even further, and Inva practically melted into a lump under the blankets, shivering hard once and then relaxing.

Shyll, I will find the worst latrines for you to muck out for this.

“Is Paula in a similar room?”

“Across from us,” Sonia answered.

“One moment.” I got up and stepped out into the hall.

Drawing a little on my magic, I pushed heat out into the entire wing of this floor, using wind to force warm air under doors and through the many cracks in the mortar. Once I was satisfied, I returned to Inva’s room, closed the door, and sat down on the warming floor, curling my tail around, up, and over my lap.

“This will last until morning—I hope. Still not too well practiced with this type of magic.”

Sonia and Inva nodded, the former looking around with more than a fair bit of wonder as she sat down on the bed next to Inva. Immediately, the paladin shoved a blanket over Sonia, who had somehow still managed to keep her hand hidden. The crimson flames in the fireplace lit the room up better—hopefully enough for the humans to see.

Actually… “Can you two see alright?”

Inva blinked a few times. “I can, yes.”

Sonia simply nodded.

“So… what’s this about?” Inva continued.

I bowed my head. “I… Sonia helped me realize that I’m at great risk of going too far. And that I may have already done so.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

Inva shook her head. “I’ve thought about it, and… I don’t know what else you could have done. High Priest Grants is—was—a staunch traditionalist. I like to think you might’ve been able to subdue and convince him… but a battlefield is no place for conversation.”

“Still sucks, though.”

Inva looked over at Sonia, who returned the glance with a smile. “It does, but I think you’ll not go too far. Thanks, Sonia.”

“She only needed a reminder.”

Inva’s eyes darted downward. “Then why are you hiding your hand?”

I raised a hand and spoke quickly before a misunderstanding could brew. “I cut it with my claws—on accident, of course.”

Inva looked from me back to Sonia.

“It’s true!” Sonia protested, raising her bandaged hand. “It’s not as bad as it looks! Finger wounds bleed a lot—you know this.”

“I do.” Inva sighed. “Give it here.”

I watched quietly as Inva healed Sonia. Their eyes met, and they quickly looked away.

When she was done, she looked down from her blanket nest perched on the bed to where I was sitting on the floor. “Would you kill him again?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I regret it, but I would rather that than risk my wife or sister’s lives.”

Inva’s shoulder slumped. “Acceptable, I suppose. Right then. I suppose that’s as good as I’ll get. You know the Church won’t take this lying down, right?”

I nodded. “I’m expecting retaliation.”

“What will you do then?”

“Claim self-defense. I’ve over a dozen witnesses, church and kingsguard included.”

“As a demon, they will not consider you to have rights.”

“Some might. High Priest Yevon seems to consider me a person.”

Inva paused, then loosened the blankets a little. “They… might then. What if they don’t?”

“Then they will have damned me preemptively and without recourse.”

“They may not listen.”

“If they do, I will defend my own.”

“They will not stop.”

“I won’t assault them in turn, only defend. They’ll see reason, right?” I stared down at my hands and started counting off on fingers like I was trying to reach some number that’d prove my point. “You and Sonia and Paladin Gareth Warren and High Priest Yevon and Acolyte Kord and my own sister are proof of this. Them and more.”

Didn’t even get to my third hand. But, it was something, and I looked up at the pair on the bed almost like I was looking for approval. I’ll need to bring this up with Sey, and I’ll need an airtight argument if I want it to stick.

“Priest Herron, too,” Sonia added after a moment.

“Who?” I asked.

She gestured with her healed hand vaguely. “He’s in Lockmoth. Old guy?”

I blinked. “Wait… that guy? Really?”

“He helped us take down a corrupted gang leader named Vink,” Inva said.

“No idea who that is.”

“Well, he’d been given a lot of power from somewhere.”

I raised all four hands defensively. “Not it.”

Inva smiled before she could stop herself. “I know it wasn’t you. Regardless, the problem’s dealt with.”

“That’s good to hear. And… is Firalex well? The others I knew at the company?”

“As far as I know, yes, but we didn’t meet all of them.”

“I need to send a letter,” I muttered.

Inva sighed, and the sigh turned into a barking laugh. “I… you might be right, Renna. About the Church. If Herron can change, anyone can. Though you still killed a high priest.”

I raised a finger. “In self-defense.”

“Right. Regardless, there’s going to be a reckoning.”

“Will you side with me?” I asked. “Not to be blunt, but you’ll probably be kicked out if you do.”

Inva closed her eyes and took a long breath in and out. With bedhead and wrapped in blankets, any serious effect was completely lost. “I’ll stay neutral in this.”

“What?” Sonia burst out. “Why!?”

“Think of what we’d lose toward demon-blooded rights, Sonia.”

“That’s not the point!”

“It’s not untrue, though,” I added. “But whatever decision you make is yours to make. So long as you stay within my domain you’ll have my protection. And my friendship, if you’ll allow it.”

Sonia pouted. “We’ll need to talk to Paula in the morning.”

“You think you’ll be able to get her to side against me?”

“Yes! And that’s two votes to three.”

Inva sighed. “You don’t get to decide this for me.”

Sonia pouted harder, leaning forward.

“…But I’ll consider it.” Inva leaned into it, her nose almost touching Sonia.

To someone else, they’d look like rivals. To me, it reminded me of early in my relationship with Seyari. I really need to talk to her when she gets back—and I should try to talk to Paula again in the morning, too.

I stood up, smiling. “Are we good then?”

Inva jolted, then blushed. “Oh, uhm, what?”

Sonia just giggled.

I put my lower hands on my hips and crossed my upper arms under my bust. “Am I a person who’s made tough decisions worthy of regret and reflection rather than a monster?”

Inva blinked rapidly. “Oh! Right, uhm… yes? Yes. I think so anyway.” She pointed at Sonia, but was so close she poked her chest instead, and immediately turned beet red. “T-this one’s got a good moral compass, so listen to her.”

Sonia’s mouth opened a little in surprise, only to close swiftly as she flushed a deeper crimson. “Y-you’ll do fine, Renna. I think so too.”

I smiled again, showing all my teeth—the flinches they gave didn’t disappoint. “Great! Like I said, the warming spell should stick around for a while yet, so get some good sleep and we’ll get you moved in the morning. If you need anything, I’ll be up all night trying to figure out how many more weeks of grain we have left and how to ration it.”

“You should sleep,” Inva said as I reached the door.

I chuckled. “Sleep is for mortals. No, but really—I’ll be fine. I sleep every other night or so.”

Inva and Sonia both glared at me.

“…I’ll see if I can sneak in a few hours tonight,” I conceded, scratching at a horn.

They nodded, and I left the room giggling. For a moment, I looked at Paula’s door, then shook my head. She needed sleep more than I did; waiting until morning would be best. With that decided, I walked back toward my chambers, resolving first to take a little detour and find a certain lust demon who’d acted out of line.