Elmidath took a sip from her cup and looked at me across the breakfast table. “I want you to go to Lycidae and check on how the harvest is coming.”

I swallowed the piece of bread I’d been chewing. “Me?” There was no one else here she could be referring to but I also really didn’t want to do it. Hadn’t I walked enough already?

“Yes, you. I’d go myself but I have more important things to do. You may as well make yourself useful.”

“Don’t you need me here to protect the manor? You should know as well as I do just how short on manpower we are.” I thought it was a pretty good reason, not a bad bit of improvisation on my part.

But Elmidath was having none of it. “Be that as it may, I don’t have a lot of other choices right now; I can hardly send a servant out on official business like this. It’s either you or Korzan, and I’d prefer to keep her here where I can keep an eye on her.” She raised her finger. “Besides, if anything happens here I can always contact you and have you return immediately. You’re the best choice in that regard.”

“But I don’t know anything about harvesting or whatever.” It was a bit of a feeble reason, but worth a try.

Elmidath smiled, triumphant. “Then it’s the perfect time for you to learn. Besides, this way you can familiarise yourself with the village as well as acting as my spokesperson.”

Much as I wanted to argue the point further, I could see it would be a fruitless endeavour and I’d run out of reasonable excuses. “Fine, I’ll go.”

She nodded, as if she’d expected nothing less. “Once you get there, ask for Korston, the village head.”

“Got it.”

When she saw I was still sitting there, she continued. “Well? What’re you waiting for?”

“You want me to leave now?” Sure, I’d pretty much cleared my plate but it was kind of early to be starting work. Too early for my liking at any rate.

“Better to do it sooner rather than later. If you leave now, you should be back in time for dinner.”

I didn’t really disagree with what she was saying, but I disliked her high-handed tone. She made it sound like I was being lazy or something when all I wanted was to relax a bit. Didn’t I deserve that much after all we’d been through recently? “Seriously? Surely it can wait a while, the suns are barely up.”

Narrowing her eyes, Elmidath met my gaze. “This is not a discussion; go.”

The previously peaceful atmosphere had vanished, now the tension was palpable. Much as I wanted to rail against her lack of respect, there probably wasn’t much point. It would be a silly thing to have an argument over. Swallowing the last of my drink along with my pride, I left the manor.

The suns were already glaring down at the world, tinging everything with red. I was already getting sick of the colour red, it seemed to be everywhere in this world. Part of me longed to see a blue sky again. It’s funny, I couldn’t remember ever having appreciated it while I was on Earth, but now I missed it.

The heavens being a mixture of fiery red and orange wasn’t exactly peaceful. I suppose it fit with the hellish nature of my new world, but that was something I’d rather forget. Definitely not something I wanted to be reminded of at the start of every day. At least the night sky had a passing familiarity to it. I didn’t have much of an interest in the stars and the ones I could see here were similar enough not to bother me. Continuing my thoughts on how the two worlds differed, I made my way across the scarred landscape of glossy black.

As I skirted my way around a crack in the ground, too deep for me to see the bottom, I found myself wondering anew how anything could live here. It was a little more hospitable than the desert we’d visited, but not by much. I couldn’t imagine anything like the agriculture I knew of succeeding. The thought of seeing the methods the demons employed brought forth both interest and dread. Interest because it was sure to be something new and unlike anything I’d seen and dread because it was also sure to be horrible.

They were both bound to diminish over time as I grew more accustomed to the world but I wasn’t sure which I’d miss more. Experiencing the novelty was nice and all and I could do with less dread in my life. But at the same time, it would mean accepting the reality of this place. It felt like I’d be losing some important part of myself. Something integral to my humanity, or what was left of it. I suppose there was no point forestalling the inevitable, best to just get it over with.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The village wasn’t that far away and my enhanced body made easy work of the distance, arriving a little before noon. Sighting a villager on the outskirts, I called out to them and approached. The short creature wore the formless robe that seemed to be the villagers’ preferred outfit. It may as well have been their official uniform for all that they seemed to deviate from it. But I can’t imagine anyone would pick something so boring, even here.

The hooded robe masked almost their whole body, though I could see that they had yellow skin. They looked up, eyes lingering on the sword slung over my shoulder, but their gaze never rose above my chest. “Yes?” Their voice was deferential and feminine.

“I’m here on Elm- “I stopped myself, recalling that it was improper to refer to her by her first name when talking to someone in public like this. “Lady Sarinknell’s behalf to see Korston.”

“Of course, sir.” The villager bowed her head. “He’s out working at the moment; would you like me to take a message to him?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” It felt strange to be speaking to them in such a high-handed manner, but it fit my role. “Where can I find him?”

“If it pleases you, sir, I can lead you to him.”

“Very well.”

Robe swishing, she turned on her heel and took me through the village to a passage cut from the earth. It continued downward at a shallow angle. Inwardly I sighed. Did I really have to go underground again? At least there were none of the spikes or other deformations here. “How far in is he?”

My guide hesitated. “Probably not very far, sir. Is there a problem?”

“No, everything’s fine.”

As we made our way below, I kept close to the villager. The tunnel was both wide and well lit, which made for a refreshing change. Some kind of fungus, glowing with a soft blue light, grew from the walls and ceiling throughout the passage. After a short walk, the floor levelled out and I assumed we weren’t too far below the surface. The meaty thunk of a blade striking flesh echoed through the tunnels from up ahead. Hearing it repeat again and again, I shivered.

I knew they were only processing meat but there was something creepy about just the sound, particularly down here. Without being able to see what was happening, my brain took the liberty of conjuring up all sorts of grisly images. I shook them off; no sense working myself into a terrible state. Especially not down in these cramped tunnels. They were bad enough as it was.

 I can’t imagine showing fear in front of these lowly villagers would do much for my prestige either or, by extension, Elmidath’s. Image wasn’t something I cared all that much about but I knew she did. After looking back to see that I was paying attention, my guide went into one of the tunnels branching off from this one.

The smell of raw meat filled the air and I covered my nose. I don’t know how the villagers managed working in these close confines with it. They had to be used to it, I don’t see how else it could be tolerable. Around the corner of the new tunnel, we arrived in a wider space. A dozen or so villagers were hewing away at a great mass of flesh.

Little more than a misshapen lump of spongy-looking meat, it reminded me of a giant tumour. Particularly the way thinner sections sprouted from it, anchoring it to the ceiling and walls. Even with the two-handed meat cleavers the workers employed, they seemed to have trouble cutting through the thing. As I watched it took several swings before the gore-drenched robed figure cut a portion free and set it aside behind them.

Was this why they wore robes? Just as a way to keep the blood and grime off? It was a surprisingly mundane explanation, but it made sense. My guide approached one of the villagers from behind and tapped him on the shoulder. Pausing in mid-swing, he looked over his shoulder and then set aside his implement. “What?” Deep and gruff, he sounded annoyed at her interruption.

“Lady Sarinknell sent someone to speak with you.” Showing no reaction to his irritation, she gestured in my direction. With none of the deference the woman had shown, he stomped over and looked me right in the eye. “What’s she want?”

“You’re Korston?” It seemed probable, but it was worth making sure. Elmidath wasn’t likely to be too forgiving if I messed up something so simple.

“Yeah. Who’re you?”

“Cathal Moore.” I considered offering my hand for him to shake but he made no move to do anything of the sort, so I decided not to bother.

“Right. Nice to meet you.” He spoke without the slightest sincerity, glaring at me from beneath his hood. “Much as I appreciate your visit, can you make this quick? We’ve got work to do.” Letting out a grunt, he abruptly straightened as the woman who’d guided me nailed him in the ribs with her elbow. They exchanged a few heated words in a whisper, too quiet for me to make out, and Korston rephrased his question. “How can I help you today, sir?” He sounded no sincerer than before, only the phrasing had changed. But I didn’t care enough to quibble about his manners, I’d rather get back to the surface as soon as possible.

“Lady Sarinknell instructed me to see how the harvest was coming, as well as to familiarize myself with the actual process.” My tone was a little stiff but otherwise I think I did an admirable job playing the part of Elmidath’s representative.

Korston sighed. “Fine. I’ll show you around, for whatever it’s worth.” He caught the female demon’s arm before she could strike him again. “Get out of my hair, Yuvina. I bet your mother has plenty more chores for you to do.”

Fixing him with a stern look, Yuvina bowed to me and headed back the way we’d come.