This may be a side story, but take it as events happening alongside the main plot.

Enjoy :)

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It was a busy day in the markets.  Crowds of people moved through the streets, seeking needs and wants aplenty.  Merchants lined the crowds, shouting out their wares for all to hear.  Elves, humans, gnomes, halflings, dwarfs, and mixed bloods flowed through with each wave, a resounding cornucopia of diversity in this city of humans.

A cloaked figure made it's way through the crowd, slipping through it as water seeped through rock.  No one paid any mind to his figure, and no one remembered him once he was gone from their sights.  Coming to a dark alley way, the figure paused a moment, making sure no one had followed him.

Entering the alley, he removed his hood from his head.  Scald's silver hair flowed out onto his back, shining in the spring sun.  Dark elves were not favored in the lands above, and it was quite a chore reassuring commoners and filth that he meant no harm.  Yet.  

He smirked, the gesture familiar to him.  Even in the cities underground, he had been treated with suspicion, even within his own house.  Demon-summoners were never trusted, for they themselves could not trust their own source of power.  Summoning a demon was a risk to his very soul everytime he invoked his power.  If he was weaker than the demon, he would be consumed.

Anyway, that was not why he was here today.  He inspected the bag under his cloak.  His primary mission was to scout out the closest civilizations to the budding kingdom, see who could be a threat.  Besides that, he had been requested to acquire certain things for the other party members.  He had some on the list: seeds, wine, books on engineering.  Today, however, he was on a personal mission.

Demon summoners acquired new power through new contracts.  The stronger the demon, the greater the power.  It also presented a greater risk for being played, for he could beat weaker demons into submission, but not greater ones.  The strongest demons could only be summoned by name, and they were picky on who knew such a thing.

Today, he was after a grimoire, kept in lock down at a wizard's house.  He had, on reasonable authority, information that suggested a powerful demon's name was included in that grimoire.  The wizard had taken the book from a dark sorcerer he had defeated, and had opted to lock the knowledge away instead of destroying it.  It was a natural thing for practitioners to do, for written information on magic was scarce.  Even dark mages hesitated to destroy books of light magic, it was that valuable.

Scald put his hands on the ground and whispered in tongue's of power.  A summoning circle appeared in front of him, announcing the arrival of his favorite servant.  Nevian slithered slowly out of the circle, taking in the new smells with his tongue and watching his caller.

"Ara, Masster." He said respectfully, "For what purposse have you summoned this unworthy one to your, pressence."

Scald smiled evilly at his familiar, "For the pursuit if power of course.  I need you to do some things for me."

If snakes could smile, this one would have been.  "Anything for my dear masster.  You have only to name it."

Scald bent down, covering the snake from prying eyes.  "Down the alley my friend, we do not wish to be disturbed."

The two vanished as quickly as they appeared, a breeze of dust the only indication that someone had just left.

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The moon stood full and bright against the dark city.  Fewer traveled the streets, most being drunken folk stumbling back to their homes after a great deal of intoxication.  Couriers moved quickly as well, speeding along with their messages.  No one stood in their path, for couriers were seen throughout the continent as neutral parties.  

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Attacking one was paramount to high treason, for they carried news and tidings with the potential for changing history itself.  All messages looked the same on the outside, for magic seals were used to identify the parchment's recipient.  Only the person for who the message was meant could read it, and no one, not even the messagers themselves, were aware of what news they carried.  They were merely assigned a location with a stack to deliver, each parchment growing warmer the closer their master's were.

Of course, no one would stop a messenger.  No one would expect a messenger.

A white robed messenger flew along the dirt stone road down the main road.  Feeling the parchment within, he turned left at a dirt road, whisking away like quick silver.  The parchment grew warmer in his hand indicating his quarry was near, and growing every closer.

He didn't need to look up.  

He had never looked up before.  

He should have looked up.

A large body fell from the air, knocking him into a wall in the alley.  His wind lost, the messenger gasped in pain as his arm throbbed.  He could no longer move it under his own power.  Looking around, he fixated on the thing that had knocked him off his duty.  

The large serpentine body of Nevian rose up off the ground, hissing at the messenger.  It bobbed back and forth, it's reptilian eyes fixed on it's prey.  It paused, and struck toward him with lightning speed.

The messenger sprung up, dodging the dripping veins by a hair's breath.  He landed, and kicked up toward the snake.  It dodged back, clearly surprised by it's prey's resistance.  It recovered, and sprung again at the messenger.

Ready this time, the messenger used his good arm to whip his legs around and knock the snake into the wall.  The hit it with a smash and a hiss of pain.  Taking advantage of the snake's disorientation, the messenger activated the magic in his shoes and shot off into the night, quickly leaving the snake behind in his dust.

Or so he thought, for he had barely left the snake behind when he smashed into an invisible wall.  Groaning in agony, he fell back, too shaky to understand the pain his body was shrieking at him with.  He couldn't move any more, couldn't bare to stand again.

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Shhh, quiet now.  Don't worry, I'll take the pain away."  The hand moved down his body to his pack.  It removed it, slowly, not allowing new pain to grow under his watch.

"Naa...Noo." The messenger cried out softly, "My, messages..."

The hand patted him softly, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to deliver them for you."

Smiling in gratitude, the messenger opened one eye to take in the image of his rescuer.  Seeing the silver hair and dark skin, the messenger's smile quickly became replaced by fear as he took in the dark elf before him.  The dark elf grinned, an evil smile glowing in the moonlight.  

The dark elf grabbed the messenger's hand.  "Don't worry, your messages are safe with me."

Letting go, the dark elf stood up and looked back over the messenger.

"Nevian, be a dear and help the poor fellow out, he's very tired after so much hard work."  The dark elfe walked away, fading into the moonlight and darkness.

All was still around the messenger, all was quiet except his thoughts.  A dark elf, here in the city!  He had to tell someone, had to retrieve his letters.  A low hiss stopped his thoughts cold.  He felt a cold tongue moving it's way lover his hair, his ear, his face.  The snake entered his view, looking down on him with unemotionally.

He tried to scream, to cry for help, to call for a miracle from the gods.  A lunge cut him off before the sound came.  As the poison seeped through his veins, he could only watch powerlessly as a giant mouth engulfed his very being.