There was screaming.

Flashes of light as he was punched repeatedly in the chest.

He tried to remember how to breathe, but his own lungs were no longer responding. His heart was still slowing down.

A prick of something piercing the skin on his chest, right above his heart.

His veins burned as what felt like a thousand tiny clawed beasts were injected into him and towards his heart.

----------------------------------------

He was on his side, eyes half open as he stared at the puddle of water coming out of his mouth.

He breathed his first gasp of air since…since what? What was happening?

Why was he so cold?

There was a wash of warmth that forced him to relax, and the pain started to fade.

He lost more time.

----------------------------------------

He was being carried? He was flying?

He was exhausted in a bone-deep way that was unfamiliar to his new body.

But he was being hugged by someone. If he stretched his mind back, they’d been hugging him pretty much since he’d been laying in the puddle.

And, like, mentally he was a grown-ass man, but also he’d just drowned, and he felt like he was owed at least a hug.

Hell, he’d take it even if it was a hug from Callum, of all people.

The most important thing was that he was warm.

Someone was whispering words he couldn’t understand, and a rockslide answered them.

Shouting started up, only to be quickly silenced with a heavy thudding sound.

Braech tried to get away from the danger, but the arms around him tightened, and the world faded out again.

There was an awful ripping sound, something wet splattered on the ground, a sudden rush of air and static electricity-and the world was calm again.

Then the person holding him seemed to break out into a run.

People were talking, but he still couldn’t understand them. They sounded concerned, though, and he distantly realized that they were probably concerned about him.

He felt like he should probably do something to alleviate that.

He forced his eyes open.

Above him was an expanse of stars he’d never properly noticed before. They weren’t very familiar, but that was probably because he just hadn’t paid attention to the sky when he’d been running from the Manor. There appeared to be a version of the Aurora Borealis, a shifting haze of purples and greens that lit up the horns of the person carrying him.

Why were they wearing horns?

Hands brushed over his eyes and closed them, and the person holding him made a hushing sound.

He decided to listen to the clear and obvious suggestion, and let himself fall into the empty darkness of sleep.

----------------------------------------

Someone was poking and prodding him, moving his arms and legs at the joints.

The pain from the stuff in his veins was back; whatever had stifled it before had faded.

Braech opened his eyes, only to see the darkness of cloth.

The pain started to get worse, and the hands moving his ankles paused.

A quiet, murmured conversation in a language he could not understand started up, urgent and worried.

Someone else’s hand rested on his forehead, and that same warmth from before washed through him.

His eyes started to close.

The owner of the hand began to sing what sounded like a lullaby.

He let himself fall back to sleep.

----------------------------------------

Someone was washing his hair, running long nails along his scalp.

Braech leaned into it.

The head scratches paused, and Braech lost his distraction.

Instead, he got to focus on the growing pain again.

The hands laid flat against his head, and a pulse of warmth flooded him from the head down.

The pain faded.

The nails started running through his hair again.

Braech fell asleep.

----------------------------------------

There was a rockslide, but it was happening in increments.

He woke to it, soft rumbles that, oddly enough, carried the cadence of speech.

The now-familiar voice of the person who must have been with him the entire time, who sang the lullaby and ran their fingers through his hair, spoke.

The rockslide answered.

Braech was suddenly struck with the terrifying realization that the rockslide was not a rockslide at all; that was someone’s voice. A creaking, groaning rumble that he could feel in his bones as surely as he could feel the bed he was resting on move.

The realization was so horrifying that it blocked out the pain building up again.

The voice that spoke with a normal voice made another hushing noise, and a hand rested on his eyes before he had a chance to open them.

“Sleep, child,” A woman crooned in heavily accented common, “Not many-uh, much time left, you will be feeling better soon.”

There was another pulse of that warmth-magic, Braech finally realized, it was magic-and he felt himself falling into sleep.

The last thing he noticed before he finally went down again was that he wasn’t on a bed. It felt like he was laying on a large expanse of skin, and the woman had to have been kneeling next to him.

He was laying on something alive.

----------------------------------------

Braech sat up, eyes wide and hands to his chest.

He was in a room made of softly glowing stone, on a real bed, and dressed in clean clothes. His wrists were bandaged, as well as his ankles from what he could feel, and that persistent pain he could remember was nothing more than a slight ache in his bones.

There was a chair, a table, a pile of books, a shuttered window to block out the sun-all perfectly ordinary. Aside from the glowing stones.

Holy shit, had he been lucky enough to be rescued by a random passing wizard?

A soft noise of surprise had Braech’s head snapping to the entrance of the room, and directly into a pair of surprised, slitted, yellow eyes.

They stared at each other, one on the verge of hyperventilating and the other startled.

The owner of the yellow eyes was a woman; with long black hair, some sort of priestess garb, and…

Fuck.

That was not a wizard or a priest.

“Fuck,” Braech hissed, leaning away from her and against the wall.

She had ram horns, pointed ears, and a tail.

A demon. Or demoness. Was the word demon gendered? Did that really matter?

He was with a demon. He’d been trying to avoid this shit!

The woman put down the book she’d been holding on the table and held out her hands, obviously to attempt to calm him down.

But Braech could not be calmed down.

He’d read the books, he knew what demons did to humans. He knew why demons were the wrong side to side with.

They made slaves of them, the exact thing he was trying to avoid!

“Stay the fuck away-“ Braech spat out, voice hoarse and weak.

“No, no; calm down,” the woman said, keeping her voice soft and staying exactly where she was, “You are being in a safe place.”

“I’m not gonna be a slave and you can shove that lie up your-“ His voice gave out mid threat.

Braech glared at her.

“Slave? No, we do not taking-take, sorry-slaves.” Her body language was genuinely confused, hands having lowered and she visibly tried to understand what he was talking about.

Not that Braech could ask for clarification, what with his throat wrecked like it was.

“Apologies, you have been through much,” she sighed, letting herself in all the way and shutting the door behind her, “Here, drink the leaf juice. It will help.” A clawed hand reached out, holding a clay mug with steaming liquid inside it.

It smelled of honey and flowers, and overall appeared harmless. But Braech had knowledge of demons from the books he’d read in his past life, and was not fooled.

Braech did not drink the tea handed to him by a suspicious lady.

She leveled him with a flat, unimpressed look, and slowly took a sip of the tea she was offering.

“As you are seeing, I have not died. Drink.” She said dryly, holding the cup out to him again.

Braech watched her for a few minutes, gaging if it was a delayed reaction kind of poison.

There wasn’t even a shake in the hand that was offering him the tea.

He slowly took the cup from her and gave it a small sip. It was good, he’d give it that. Honestly, it was very hard not to drink the entire mug in one go. But he had to be sure that there wasn’t a human-specific poison.

She sat down in the chair next to his bed and made herself comfortable, eyes never leaving Braech’s as he waited an additional fifteen minutes to see if there were any side effects.

There were, but not in the way he was expecting.

The ache in his bones started to dissipate. His throat started to feel far less sore. His muscles started to relax.

The tea was like a liquid version of whatever magic this demon had been using on him.

It wasn’t hurting him, it was helping him.

Braech felt the tip of his ears start to heat up, and opted to just down the rest of the mug like he’d originally planned.

The demon lady kindly didn’t say anything, but her amusement was almost palpable.

Once the tea was gone, Braech didn’t even have time to get out of bed to put it on the table. She just reached over and plucked it from his hands, replacing it with a small bag.

Braech stared at it, confused.

“Avoc says cookies are a good uh, prize? Yes, prize.” Braech turned to stare at her, still confused. She held up the cup and shook it. “For taking medicines. Not that my medicines taste bad; I am very good at to make…making them.”

Oh.

Oh, he was being treated like a child.

He looked down at the bag, cradled by small hands, and was yet again forced to realize that he was, in fact, a child.

“Now, we must talk, I think,” the woman said, leaning back in her chair.

Braech moved the bag of cookies to his lap protectively.

She didn’t seem like she was lying, and it was probably just wishful thinking, but he was willing to give her the benefit of a doubt.

“About?” Oh yes, his voice sounded much better.

“Your sickness, the poison.”

Braech stared at her blankly, before slowly scooting back towards the wall.

“You said it was medicine!”

“The juice? Yes, that is medicines.”

“Then where did the poison come from?” Braech was aware his voice was only getting higher in his distress.

“It come…came - sorry, it has been so long since I had to be speaking Common - from your…um. Your…”

Braech narrowed his eyes. She hadn’t just forgotten the word this time, she just didn’t want to say it.

“From my…what?” He asked slowly, holding the bag of probably crushed cookies to his chest like some sort of shield.

“Hmm. A human cannot survive a God’s greed. With the water and the not breathing. You needed a…a, ah…” She actually did look lost on that word, whatever it was. That was fine, Braech did not like the direction it was heading in.

Then she snapped her fingers.

Damn it, so long sweet ignorance. He was about to hear something he really didn’t want to.

“Donation! You needed donation. So we could force you to be live!” She forgot to tone herself down and looked very proud.

Braech did not share her enthusiasm.

“Donation of what?”

“Blood, essence, aura, energy, life. One of those; all of them. I do not know the human word for today’s year.”

He was starting to get a picture he really, really didn’t want to see.

The woman started to look a little nervous, fingers twitching against her skirts.

“So. We put some of our bloods into you, to make your heart to keep moving. So that there would be magics that I could be controlling, and also to change your… scent.” She winced, then seemed to steel herself and looked Braech dead in the eyes. “That way the offering to Nyxla was um…not good. Because you did not smell like human anymore.”

Braech heard a crunching sound as the cookies were crushed further.

The lady’s lips thinned.

“Is permanent.”

Braech opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

No sound came out.

He cleared his throat.

“We?”

The eyes that had been intently staring into his own suddenly found the walls very interesting.

“Who is ‘we’? You and who else?”

“My Guardian, who raised me. He offered some of his bloods, and you did not die upon the taking of it.”

Braech looked around the room again.

It was only him and her. There was no one else.

“And this guardian is where?”

The lady cleared her throat, tail lashing behind her.

“He is in palace.”

“Why is he in the palace?”

“Because he is runs it.”

“Oh, like a steward?”

She said nothing, lips pressing closer together.

“…Hey. Like a steward or something, right?”

“…King,” she muttered, wincing and looking back at Braech, “He is runs it because he is King.”

----------------------------------------

Braech didn’t stop laughing hysterically until the woman reached out and did that calming magic again. Then he just hugged the bag of cookies like it was some sort of toy to his chest and rocked back and forth, the woman moving to sit beside him and put an arm around his shoulders in comfort.

The very thing he’d been trying not to do.

He’d only had two things on his list, two things! Don’t get involved with demons! Stay clear of the Demon King!

How did he fuck up so badly that his list of things to avoid became a list of things to do?

He’d just sealed his fate. He was gonna get tortured, and those assholes were going to be his owners, because if this demon lady was telling the truth-and he was starting to think that she definitely was-then he just wasn’t a slave yet because those stupid ‘heroes’ were gonna make one of him, and he’d effectively ruined his life before it had even started.

Against his will, he felt his face heat up and his eyes start to water.

But there wasn’t any real reason not to let it out.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Fuck acting like a child, he was entitled to a little breakdown after the shit time he’d been having.

Between one shaking breath and the next, he was sobbing.

By the time he managed to pull himself together, face wet and nose stopped up, he’d been moved from the bed into the woman’s lap, and she was running a hand up and down his back as she hugged him. He wasn’t sure when that had happened, but he had absolutely ruined her priestess robes; there was a mess of snot and tears all over her shoulder.

Braech sniffed, rubbing at it uselessly with his hands.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, voice hoarse again.

The woman shook her head, still rubbing his back.

“Many things have happening,” she said, pulling him back a bit to use the end of her sleeve to wipe away the tear tracks, “Is okay. You needed it. We still must talks, though.”

Braech nodded, properly tired for the first time since he’d woken up with his memories of Andrew.

“I am Iitys,” the woman advised, picking him up as she stood up and made her way to the table, “You are in Joaalu, demon home.”

She set him on the table, and turned to move the chair so that they were facing each other at, roughly, eye level.

“You are no longer have human energies. Your body is being human, but your spirit having demon in it, and demon spirit is spreading.” Iitys paused, frowning, and shook her head. “No, that is not being right. It is…to change. Slowly. I am not knowing of the word, sorry.”

“Am I gonna die?” Braech croaked, rubbing at his eyes as they started to water again.

Iitys quickly shushed him and patted his knee.

“No, no. You just…are not to be of human, at some time. If you were to die, already it will have been done.” She tried to keep her voice kind, but Braech could hear the underlying tension. There was still something she wasn’t saying.

Something besides him slowly turning into the thing that had gotten him killed in the books.

But there was a silver lining; the books never mentioned a place called Joaalu. So there was a chance, then, that as long as he stayed in this country of demons, that he wouldn’t even meet the ‘heroes’.

“What else?” He prompted, pulling up the collar of his shirt and rubbing his face with it.

Iitys leaned back, seeming to take a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Like my Guardian raised me, I must to do the same to you. To take in. But different, as if with kin.”

“Why?”

“Because you are being a child? A child with having demon spirit? A human cannot take you, they would not have knowing how to make the medicines for you.”

Oh, so like a foster situation. Okay. Okay, he could do that. That wasn’t so bad, comparatively. Like a cop adopting the kid he’d saved or something.

“Why do I need medicine?”

“The demon spirit is painful for human, the medicines are to make it be better.”

“…No tricks? You’re not gonna try to eat me or anything?”

Iitys did not only look disgusted, but offended.

“What talk do humans be having? No. We do not to do that, we are having cows and chickens for eating.”

Braech felt his brain stop, realizing something very fundamental.

Honestly, he felt like he should have noticed it earlier, but he was going to blame stress on not doing so sooner.

Everything he was seeing since he’d woken up in Joaalu, a scant thirty or so minutes ago, meant that the book he’d read was wrong.

Which meant that his situation was not as hopeless as he’d originally thought.

He cleared his throat and held out his hand.

“I’m Braech,” he offered as the demon gently took it and gave it a quick shake.

Iitys hummed, looking from the tiny hand she had in hers.

“Do you like name? You may not be having need of it.” Braech snatched his hand back, and Iitys held up her hands with a wry smile. “Peace, little child Braech. Demon names are family tells, is what I am say. Might be better to have the take of one.”

Braech paused.

That. That was actually a very good idea if he wanted to distance himself from the McDonnell’s.

He’d already changed his name once, what was another time? Unless it was stupid. If it was stupid then he was out.

“How do demons get names, then?” He asked, leaning back a little bit and onto a small stack of very large books.

The way Iitys’ demeanor changed in that second let him know exactly what her job in her church was.

She was a teacher.

“To make the short; main Guardian last name is become Ward first name, second Guardian first name is become Ward second name, third name is being for royals. I am being Iitys Miach, for my mother and also my father.”

“So Miach is the King?”

“No, I am not being kin like you are of the being. He was…friend? It was just the taking in, for he and me.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Difference is being donation.”

Braech nodded, counting on his fingers before realizing he was mentally skimming over something.

“So who’s my second Guardian?”

Iitys kept her composure, but her face sure had gotten a lot more rigid.

“Because most energy of donation was being me, Miach is first name. King gave extra I had been needing, so Fayid is second name. Joaalu is third name.” The last part was rushed out, and it honestly took a hot second for him to realize what she’d said.

Braech’s brain checked out for a moment, again.

“That can’t be right. That’s the country name.”

“Your spirit is now having direct tie to country’s King. So. Yes, is correct. Miach Fayid Joaalu.”

There was silence as both of them stared at each other; one nervous and the other in disbelief.

“Miach Fayid Joaalu, new and being only Prince of Joaalu, by the formality.”

----------------------------------------

The book was wrong, the book was wrong, the book was wrong.

That was the only thought streaming through Braech’s head as he paced on the floor in front of Iitys.

“So if I don’t take that name, I’m not a Prince by formality?”

Iitys shook her head from her chair, eyes concerned.

“Demons can…smell? Taste? Both? Demons can have knowing of energies. Anyone will be knowing King is kin, little Prince.”

“You were the primary donor, will his magic or whatever fade out?”

“No, it will be to grow with you, same as mine.”

So whether or not he took the name she was offering was irrelevant. He would always be tied to the Demon King in a way that the previous iteration of him could only dream of.

But the book was wrong. So maybe that was okay.

Braech shook his head, resuming his pacing.

Of course the book was wrong, it was told based on the knowledge that the ‘hero’ party had, which apparently was very flawed. Knowing their temperaments though, just the connection would be enough to warrant death.

Unless the book was wrong about them too.

No, it was safer to assume the worst.

Information. He needed information that the assholes in the book didn’t have.

“Explain ‘grow with me’.”

“Demons are to use different magics, humans cannot take it. Being like the poison to humans, yes? Demon magics is different. Your spirits must be grow from human to demon, so it can use the magics we had putting in you, for the continued living.”

Wait. That was it? That was how demons were defined? By how they used magic? That was. That was so stupid. It was literally just some weird sort of fantasy classism then, when humans said demons were so scary.

“Okay, so us being afraid of you is jealousy. Got it.”

Iitys looked a lot more uncomfortable.

“No. We are scary. We are to be made for war. That is…you will to be learn more. Later. Not now.”

Okay, that wasn’t concerning at all.

“So I’m basically just gonna be a human that uses magic like a demon.”

“No, you will be being a demon that is looks like a human. For a little some time.”

Braech stopped pacing.

“But you said the energy thing was permanent.”

“Yes.”

“Then why will I only be able to use it for ‘some time’?”

“No, the magic is being forever. You will only to be looking human for some time. Inside is to making outside match the spirit.”

“What the fuck will I look like?”

Iitys gestured to herself, eyebrow raised.

Oh.

He’d look like the demon he’d gotten his ‘energy’ from. Okay. That wasn’t so bad.

She wasn’t the only one who had donated, though.

“And what else? What does the King look like?”

Iitys opened her mouth.

Iitys closed her mouth.

She frowned.

“You…may grow to have the tall-the length?- from him. Perhaps to be having extra set of arms. Maybe to be get stripe pattern? One or two, I am think. You saw him, no? He was one that saved you from river.”

Braech sat down on the hard, glowing stone floor.

The giant hand hadn’t been a hallucination.

“He is being very excited to meet you,” Iitys added, leaning forward, clearly trying to be reassuring and open.

She always kept her distance, though, Braech noticed. Unless he was actively in need of assistance, she never got closer than he was comfortable with.

Everything she’d done in regards to Braech had been for his benefit.

Since he’d woken up with his memories, she’d been the only one to display that level of care towards him.

“So those…those traits. They’ll pop up as I grow up?”

Iitys shrugged, tilting her head to the side.

“I am not knowing. This is being new.”

“Then how do you know I’ll look like you at all?”

“Avoc is saying so.”

“Who is Avoc?”

“Doctor.”

So he’d have to hunt down this Doctor Avoc then.

In the meantime, it was sounding like he would be damned whether or not he took on the proposed name.

He forced his adult brain to stay online, however much his physically-a-kid brain wanted to take over and focus on more fun stuff.

If he took the name, he’d have a greater chance of dodging the initial fate meant for him. He also damn well knew the weight names could carry. If he was going to stay in Joaalu, which he probably would to stay as far away from the book events as possible, then he’d need to have something backing him.

He was basically just a human with demon magic, and if the bullshit in all the news websites about the British Royals had taught him anything, it was that there was absolutely going to be a general populace that was really, really unhappy an outsider was being brought into the Royal Family. If he took that name, it proved that the Royal Family had approved, and would at least convince them to hold their tongues.

Not to talk about the probably literal Royal Guard he’d get as the time to meet the ‘heroes’ got closer. Royalty was never sent to the frontlines, so he didn’t need to worry about going to war either. He’d be far better defended.

If he didn’t take the name, then he’d have something linking him to the McDonnells for the rest of his life. He wouldn’t have any connections backing him. He’d be even more of an outsider than he already was.

There were far more pros to taking the name than cons.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll be Miach.”

Iitys face broke out in a wide smile, fangs on prominent display.

Braech-Miach-nervously smiled back with closed lips, running his tongue on his own blunt canines.

This was fine, right?

He’d definitely made the good choice, one that would let him live longer and not be turned into a slave.

…Right?

----------------------------------------

The first thing Iitys did to celebrate Braech-Miach, dammit-taking on her name for his own was pat his head. The second thing she did was leave the room to get his doctor.

She also unwittingly confirmed that the doors were absolutely enchanted, because when she opened the door there was a veritable roar of noise and activity before she closed it.

Then it was quiet again.

Miach was pacing again, nervous energy demanding he move.

He’d done it. He’d taken on yet another name, and there was so much weight attached to this one he could already feel it weighing down his shoulders. Expectations he couldn’t even begin to understand were biting at his heels, the books on the table taunting him with knowledge he more than likely desperately needed as a literal prince.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He crawled onto the chair, standing up on it as he tugged down one of the huge books from its pile.

It fell to the table with a thud, and Miach opened it to a random page-ah. Fuck.

He couldn’t read the language it was written in, much less even try to sound it out. The alphabet was wholly unfamiliar.

It looked important, though.

No. Wait.

He pulled down another book.

It looked like it was written in the same language as the other one, but he couldn’t be sure. The other three books had the same thing.

Shit. Joaalu’s main language wasn’t Common. He should have realized it when Iitys said literally anything. He wouldn’t be able to understand anyone unless they’d gone out of their way to learn it.

A knock on the door had him turning in the chair so fast he almost knocked it over.

Iitys cracked the door open just enough to stick her head in, biting her lip.

“Avoc is being very nice,” she said, fingers tapping on the door, “She also is being very not human and her emotions are soft. Will you be screaming?”

Miach deliberately sat down on the chair, bracing himself. He wasn’t some scared little kid. He wasn’t.

“No,” he said, sounding almost petulant.

Iitys nodded, and opened the door the rest of the way.

A fucking female drider walked in behind her. The other demon was huge, ducking her head to get into the doorway. Seven eyes blinked at him from a pale face framed by blonde hair, her own priest robes a bit more rigid than the ones Iitys wore, with one set of arms holding a basket and the other clutching the back of Iitys’ robes.

The drider, Avoc, opened her mouth-and a long series of musical clicks and words that almost sounded like Common fell from her in an excited chatter.

Iitys nodded.

“She is being very happy to be meeting of you awake,” she translated. Miach was pretty sure she was cutting a lot out, but seeing as Avoc was still talking, he couldn’t blame her.

Then Avoc let go of Iitys and moved directly in front of Miach in only a few short steps, her arachnid lower half allowing her to practically glide across the floor.

Miach barely had time to register that she was right there before the set of hands that had been preoccupied with clinging to Iitys were pinching his cheeks, and the drider doctor was making soft trilling sounds.

He was starting to understand why Iitys had condensed what she was saying into a single sentence, because Avoc was absolutely cooing in their native tongue. Iitys looked mildly pained, listening to the chatter, and Miach’s only saving grace was that he couldn’t understand a word of it.

The basket, holding clothing now that Miach was close enough to see it, was placed on the floor as Avoc’s other hands started checking his pulse. The unending trilling and chattering didn’t necessarily stop, but the tone did change as she migrated from pinching his cheeks to performing a checkup.

The bandages on his wrists and ankles were unwound, showing wounds that looked long healed and scarred over. Healed by magic, and yet they still scarred. Probably as permanent as the demonic taint in his soul, then.

Her tone never strayed into concern, though, even as she rewrapped them with fresh bandages.

From what he could tell, there wasn’t any need to wrap them up. They were completely healed, and only scar tissue remained from the deep cuts of the shackles. So this was purely to hide the scars, then.

The drider finished up her exam, pinched his cheeks one more time, handed him a cookie she’d hidden in the basket of clothes, and left to speak with Iitys.

Miach busied himself with sifting through the clothes, taking a look at what all the other demon had brought as he snacked on the cookie. The basket was just a bunch of clothes, all made from a strange cloth that slipped through his fingers like water. Two pairs of shoes were in it, soft leather sandals that were definitely worn in.

A hand landed on his shoulder, gently, and he looked up into Iitys’ face.

Avoc was no longer in the room.

“She said you are being safe to go to home with me,” Iitys said, lifting a tunic just a few sizes too big for him and draping it over his head like a towel.

Miach yanked it off and glared at her.

She just laughed at him.

“Come, it is being a pretty journey. I am have thinking you will like it.”

----------------------------------------

Iitys had undersold the journey.

Once he was dressed and ready to go, hair patted into place by a finicky foster mother and sandals strapped to his feet, she’d wasted no time in leading him out of the room he’d been housed in.

The hallways were decorated with tapestries, the stones were still glowing, and rugs so soft and plush that he couldn’t hear his own footsteps were haphazardly strewn about the floor. The lanterns that hung from the ceiling glowed a soft orange, illuminating the hallway further.

The ceiling itself was easily three stories tall, with doors of all sizes lining the walls attached to it. The hallway itself was wide, easily able to accommodate Iitys, Miach, and Avoc if she’d been with them. It could certainly handle the many, many demons that roamed it.

Some were shorter than him, others towered over him so high that they could reach up and touch the lanterns, some had wings and others had tails, some looked mostly humanoid while others only barely looked human, but every single one of them was busy.

They dodged around each other, carrying packages and stacks of papers and books, shouted at each other with words he didn’t understand, huddled in doorways and argued over maps.

None of them had enough time to look at Miach, clinging to Iitys robes so that he wouldn’t get swept up in the hustle and bustle of daily life.

This wasn’t even the palace.

“Where are we?” Miach asked, tugging on Iitys robe for her attention. She just paused long enough to bend down and pick him up.

“We are being at the. The…place with the mail. That place. It is also being door to human world.”

They were in a post office? All of this was just mail carriers organizing deliveries and routes?

Iitys ducked as a package soared over their heads, someone shouted something, and she actually shouted back in the same language, angrily motioning at Miach.

A naga with green and gold scales glided by, giving Miach an apologetic pat on the head as he did so, and nodded contritely at Iitys.

Iitys, for her part, huffed and walked faster, taking them through the chaos that infiltrated every inch of the place and towards a part where the noise seemed to get louder and echo.

Then the hallway became a lobby with a stained glass ceiling much, much higher than the hallway’s had been.

There were desks and kiosks, large carts full of packages that were being loaded into carriages at a sort of docking bay, and impossibly large chains clacked through an equally large pulley system, with a team of larger demons overseeing the chains with critical eyes as they went through their mechanisms. Pulley by pulley, the large demons went down the line and critically eyed each and every chain link that went through.

Then one of them snapped out his hand, pulling a lever and halting one of the chain’s progress as the group of demons crowded around one of the carts started shouting at him. The large demon ignored their shouting, however, and leaned closer to inspect the chain.

Then he straightened up and meandered over to them, and with what could only be described as a shit eating grin, handed them a small slip of paper and pointed to one of the longer lines.

He didn’t have time to see their reaction, though, before Iitys had pushed her way through the crowd and to a set of smaller carriages-oh wow those were a fancy lift system. Demons had prototype elevators.

He’d made the right choice, then. He’d definitely made the right choice.

Technology that advanced compared to what he’d seen in the manor meant that even if other demons treated him like shit, he would still live a better life than he would have even if he’d stayed with the McDonnells.

He didn’t understand why the carriages were a lift system, though.

Iitys shut the carriage door behind her and set Miach on one of the benches. It was a carriage big enough for perhaps eight people, with four benches inside it and walls made of glass.

There was a lurch, the carriage rocked, and then they started descending.

“Now,” Iitys said, sounding relieved, “Now is being the pretty part.”

Miach struggled not to show too much enthusiasm. He was an adult in mind. He could be chill. He could be cool.

He was losing that battle.

The carriage was lowered through the ground. As it passed deeper and deeper, they kept seeing glimpses of other rooms and corridors, and more demons going about their day to day.

Miach hadn’t even realized he’d stood up and pressed his face against the glass.

Then the rooms became sparser, the corridors narrowed and became less populated, and then he was looking at the sky.

It was a floating island.

The lower the carriage went, the more he saw of where he’d just left.

A shifting expanse of purples and greens, stars in constellations he’d never seen before-oh. He’d seen glimpses of this before.

When he’d been brought in.

But now he could focus, and the only thing that stuck out to him was that the shutters hadn’t been shut in his sickroom to keep out sunlight. They’d been closed to keep out the ambient light from the demon version of the Aurora Borealis, which easily lit up the world like a strange, psychedelic sun.

The bottom of the island was littered with other access points and lights, and he swore he saw flying demons launching and landing from hidden alcoves in the rock.

He looked down, and very nearly got motion sick.

Below him were clouds, dark and ominous as they sucked up any light from the sky.

They were going to be in them at any second.

Miach turned from the window. He couldn’t bring himself to watch them sink into darkness, reminded far too much of a certain Goddess and a river.

Iitys patted the seat next to her.

“I will be telling you of the mail place. It is being the tallest island, the others are lower. It was for the soldiers, it is now being for the mail and soldiers both.”

The carriage plunged into darkness the second Miach sat down, and some of those strange glowing stones that had been hidden in the ceiling became the only source of light. Rain started to beat a cadence on the windows and roof, and the lift started to sway.

Miach tried to think of something to talk about to make further distraction. Then he realized.

He’d forgotten one very important question.

“What happened to Callum? Or Alastair, or Donna?”

Iitys looked confused, head tilting and eyes going distant as she tried to recall who he was talking about.

“Oh! The man with the…uh…fire? fire hair!”

“Callum, he’s a merchant.”

“Yes, he was tried to be fighting the King. It was very…” Iitys trailed off, looking awkward.

“Stupid?” Miach guessed.

Iitys nodded, looking relieved.

“Very stupid. The King threw rock altar at him. He dodged. We left as he was trying to learn how to do removal of sword from sheath.” She shrugged, looking a little amused. “He shouted very much. But he was being there to save you, not kill you, so we did not having to kill him like the other humans.”

A flash of light blinded Miach for a second, causing him to flinch. Only a half a second later, thunder loud enough to vibrate his bones followed.

“So…so why were you there?” Miach asked, voice failing on the first try to talk.

Iitys politely did not mention his white knuckled grip on the edge of the seat.

“My Goddess told me I had to leave to go, so I did. Said that humans were making Nyxla be…uh, bad too close to our territory. We had saw them drown you.” Her face started to go flat, and her voice followed suit. “We were knowing they were not human, just monsters. Child killers. So we got to get you and killed them. But you would not make to breathe, no matter how many times I did of the chest push. You needed more to make you to live. So.”

Iitys waved one hand in the air, and a dark mist followed after it.

“We make you live. The end.”

The carriage finally broke through the clouds, and Miach got his first look at the rolling expanse of a country that appeared to be floating in a void, illuminated by the flashing lightning and drowning in rain.

No, he rather thought it wasn’t the end at all.