There was no way to overstate the vast emptiness that was the plains of southern Kanis. Kilometers upon Kilometers of open grassland with not a river in sight. The few trees that clung onto ravines and shaded hills were small and wind-beaten. It was a landscape for horses, one for nomads.

But that was more than a decade ago. Now the steeds thundering across the steppe were made of steel and coal. An unstoppable behemoth created by the age of industrialization that raced between Terje and Maris and brought wealth and comfort.

They had wandered for another two days after meeting the first hamlet, following the sun towards the west. Truth be told, it was hell. Hot days, and frigid nights coupled with a terrain that seemed to be made to break an ankle or two exhausted all of them. Well, at least the mortal portion of their little expedition. To Lev’s annoyance, Yaril seemed just as lively and chipper as when they started.

She did not show that liveliness in any sort of outward way of course. That would shatter her image as a silent brooding devil who was done with the world. But there was still some energy left in her gate. He and Myja were just holding on.

Even the brief stop they had made in another little settlement to restock on water had not helped much.

So, finding the railroad connecting Maris and Terje had been a happy surprise. They could not take the road, since those were blocked and searched. But having been spotted on the road to Terje, what were the chances that the imperial authorities would expect them on a train?

Exhausted to the extent that they were, they decided that it was worth the risk.

Of course, they couldn’t just jump onto a moving train in the middle of nowhere. Well, Yaril most likely could. That wouldn’t solve their problem though. So, they began to follow the rails west, using the tracks as a convenient road through the wretched terrain.

Soon enough they happened at a watering station. It was a desolate brick building surrounded by nothing but emptiness and a single dirt road leading something into the distance. A large wooden construction was built over the tracks. As far as Lev knew these were used to refuel the water tanks of the locomotives. Steam engines used a ton of water to move and on a route as long as that between Maris and Terje, water had to be refueled at least a couple of times.

They got off the tracks and closed the rest of the distance hiding in the tall grass. An overgrown ditch was located relatively close to the tracks and only maybe a hundred meters away from the water station itself. Inside, they made a sort of primitive camp and began to wait.

“Look for an enclosed ware wagon. We will need to be quick and silent.”, Myja repeated the plan for perhaps the third time since they had laid down to wait for a train. Lev bothered to acknowledge her reminder with a brief nod while trying to bite off a piece of jerky. It was proving to be a tough opponent, having been thoroughly baked in the heat of the steppe for the fast few days.

Next to him, Yaril was easily chewing through her piece. It really was unfair.

“A train should turn up sometime today, right?”, he asked Myja who was staring towards where the tracks disappear on the horizon. She nodded.

“There is a train once a day in either direction. The one coming from Maris leaves in the morning and arrives late in the night. So, assuming that we are at least halfway to Terje, we shouldn’t have missed the one arriving today.”

“Good…”, he wasn’t really sure what else there was to say.

After two days of wandering and camping together, he had gone through all the usual topics of conversation. Politics, the situation in the east, discussions on the developments filtering through from the west, at some point he had actually resulted to talking about the weather! There was just nothing else to do. Nothing to look at or discuss since the landscape was as monotone as it was hostile.

In the end, he decided that boredom and staring into the distance was better than awkward attempts at holding a pointless conversation. It didn’t help that the third member of their party was about as forthcoming with her words as a silent nun.

Sure, Yaril occasionally asked a question, though those were mostly for food and water. And any questions asked of her were answered, if in brief words. But aside from that the devil might as well have been mute.

There was most likely a reason for that. Lev understood that much. Devils were immortal. Undying servants of the Lord and by extension the imperial family who claimed divine origin. Not to mention their use as what amounted to weapons of mass destruction. Being eccentric was probably a fairly minor personality flaw considering all of that.

He had questions. A lot of them and number rising. How could I not have questions? She was a literal immortal being, claimed to have been defeated by God himself. Having been an atheist for most of his life, there was at least one obvious question he needed to ask her.

But he didn’t. He would at some point. There was no way to restrain his urge to know indefinitely. But it would be after he had figured out what would happen next. After they had met the council and made plans for the future.

“You are thinking too much.”, the devil’s voice came from his side. She was side-eyeing him, a faint smile on her lips. Lev realized to his horror that he had been staring at her for the entire time. His expression turned awkward as he forced a grin.

“Nothing else to do, is there?”, he justified himself. She shrugged and returned her focus to the plain undulating with the wind.

“It's fine to be curious.”, she continued after a while. “I would be too.”

That made him cock an eyebrow. “You curious?” She glanced back to him a mocking grin playing on her lips.

“Sure I am. It’s not my fault you are this uninteresting.

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Then again, try living as long as me and finding things that pick your interest.”, her words were carefree and light though Lev felt a tinge of melancholy in them.

“So how old are you anyway?”, he asked, deciding to take advantage of her sudden onset of talkativeness. Yaril looked like she had to think for a while. “About… a thousand one hundred years? Give or take a couple of decades.”

Lev was left speechless. On the one hand, God, that was before the great Rus had risen and fallen. On the other, she was a devil. According to the holy texts she was personally slain by Tari himself and subjugated to his will. If she was less than two thousand years old…

Well, it was proof that there were holes in the religious narrative of the empire. Imperial Tariism claimed that the supreme deity Tari was created with the rest of their world to guide and preserve it. In addition to him, there was a slew of lower beings that were created to serve Tari and help him in his divine duty. The angles, his male servants delighted in their mandate and served their Lord with honor. The female devils on the other hand. They grew greedy and lustful and wished to indulge in the world they were supposed to protect. As such they rebelled against their lord and were subsequently subjugated by Tari and his host of loyal angels.

After this, supposedly, the devils were bound by Tari and reduced to slaves without agency. Send to labor under his command to better them.

But that was supposed to have happened tens of millennia ago.

Yaril was good at ready his face. “You don’t believe in Tari?”, she asked with uncharacteristic interest. He shook his head.

“I don’t believe in a being that has that sort of power.”

She cocked her head and flashed an unreadable smile.

“But I am right before you, am I not? A being of unearthly power that was bound by him?” He could tell that she was toying with him. Which only served to underscore his suspicion.

“You are powerful”, he allowed. “But still mortal.” It did not happen often. But devils had died before. Both to other devils and rarely, to humans.

“And if Tari truly existed. Why are there so many different forms of Tariism? The Orthodoxy, Imperial Tariism, and the many sects of the southern continent. Not to mention the nomads to the east who seem to have no concept of him. The demons they use against the devils.

If Tari existed, as shepherd of our world, why would he allow for all of this?”, he paused for effect.

“Maybe he exists. But if he does, he is no supreme god. And even if he is, what good does it do me to believe in him? Does it change my reality? Does his existence have any other use to me other than to legitimize those who claim to act in his name?”

Throughout his monologue, he watched the devil’s face. She kept her vague smile and tried not to show anything. But he still saw it. A glint of something that could be satisfaction. A small proof that even a devil, something claimed to have witnessed God herself, agreed with him.

In the end, he did not ask her to confirm. And she did not continue to talk. They both remained silent, confident in what they knew. Myja had listened to their conversation but not engaged with it. He could see that she agreed with at least some of what he had said but was not sure if she was of the exact same opinion.

Then again, it did not matter to him.

They heard the train approach some time before they saw him. It had taken until late afternoon until it finally arrived, indicating that they were already fairly close to Terje. When it began to halt, the screeching of metal against metal hammered against Lev’s ears.

Once the train came to a halt, they quickly left their hiding spot and sneaked to the wagons towards the end of it. The entire front section was composed of passenger wagons, divided into different classes, the number of which increased towards the back. Approximately half of the remaining wagons were all sorts of goods, from coal to industrial products and foodstuffs.

As planned, they chose an unassuming wagon that was transporting an assortment of different crates. Merchandise that was likely produced in the industrial areas of Maris and shipped of towards the rest of the empire.

The inside of the wagon was cramped and hot, but at least the sun was no longer tanning their hides. It was also dark. The only light source in the wagon were small window-like slits on the upper sides of the walls, that let in thin rays of sunlight. Lev decided to use the opportunity and close his eyes for a bit.

He was awoken by Myja. She shook him by his shoulders until he opened his eyes, letting out a displeased groan as he came too. Sleeping had not really helped with the exhaustion that had accumulated over the last few days. If anything, it had made his body more aware of its need to rest.

He forced himself to ignore the indignant cries of his aching legs and rose from the ground. Yaril was standing by the door and peeking through. She looked back and saw that he was awake.

“We have arrived.”

The train was still on the outskirts of the city, moving towards the central rail station but considerably slowed. Night had fallen, its darkness interrupted by shining electric lights that illuminated the tracks and the streets further in the distance.

Maris was a big city, but compared to Terje it was a backwater. A growing backwater with the potential to become a major city in the empire, but still underdeveloped compared to the larger Terje. It was partly because Terje had been an imperial city for centuries while Maris was only relatively recently conquered. The more important reason was that Terje was the transport hub connecting the entire south of the empire to the heartland in the north.

Lev jumped out of the moving train, followed by Myja and then Yaril. They quickly disappeared off the illuminated tracks, scaling a low wall with the help of their helpful devil, before finding themselves in a dark, empty alley. Around them were tall, multistoried complexes filled with worker apartments. Most windows were dark, only few showed the gentle light of burning candles and none the much brighter shine of electric lamps.

This close to the noisy railway there were only the accommodations for the worker class. People who could afford the novel luxury of electricity lived far away from the noise in the suburbs or the more affluent parts of the city to the west. Lev had seen those years ago when he had first left his hometown and made his way south.

Large, opulent buildings with baroque-style ornaments adorning their facades. Electric streetlights instead of gas lamps or in many cases no lights at all.

The poorly built barracks surrounding them were a far cry to those.

“Follow me.”, Myja said confidently after orienting herself for a couple of moments. Now that they had finally made it to the city, it was her time to fulfill the mission she had originally accepted.

They left the alley only to cross a dozen more like it. Their guide seemed to choose only the most out-of-the-way, dirty and desolate of roads. Something that Lev approved of seeing that they had a Devil with eye-catching, glowing tattoos and himself, a tanned haggard man with only bloody bandages covering his upper body in their group.

Soon, the surrounding buildings changed from cheap, uniform worker barracks to slightly more classy and varied townhouses. Streetlighting also began to appear, though it was of the old gas lamp variety instead of the more in-vogue electric streetlights. To their luck, the streets remained almost completely empty of people and the few patrolling officers and drunken stragglers that they did come across, they were able to avoid.

Finally, they arrived at what Lev assumed to be their destination. A dingy little tavern, hidden away in a side street that was leading to a larger square. They halted in front of a side entrance to the unassuming building and Myja knocked on the door.

Silence greeted them, followed by a low voice.

“Who is this?”, it asked through the door.

“Myja Dotkova. Coming from the east.” Lev had expected codewords, though he couldn’t help but feel relieved that they instead used vague statements. There was something deeply unserious to him about repeating random phrases, even if it was a very effective method.

The door opened with a gentle screech, and they were led inside.