“Do you really think that cell can keep him locked in?”
“It certainly will, Miss Junil. The cell is self-regenerating and powered by his own magic.”
The armored Hero and his assistant Healer stared into the cell. The most dangerous individual in the world was held within. He was also the most restrained person in the world. Thick shackles made of a silver-like substance were clasped around his wrists and ankles, wrapped around his neck, and bent around his torso.
The chains could’ve had enough slack for him to move within his cell, to a certain extent. But the sheer number of chains linked to his shackles prevented a lot of that movement.
Almost anyone else in such a situation would be pitied if the person in question was not the Demon Lord himself.
“Are you sure about that?” the Healer asked.
“I am sure. Even if he still had the capability to attack his way through the cell, it would simply mend itself from his own magic. It would be a particularly unpleasant experience, should it grow around him while he is attempting to escape.”
The Healer blinked in response to that statement.
“Sounds brutal,” she replied.
“This has been considered an acceptable measure to keep him restrained.”
Both of them were referring to the individual within those shackles, of course. Luth’s appearance was recognizable anywhere on that continent, mostly due to the wanted and reward posters that were pinned on the walls of every single bulletin board and public notice wall possible.
His short-cut hair was pale orange, almost the color of an apricot. A pair of similarly-colored irises glimmered right beneath his half-lidded eyes, surrounding his black, snake-slit pupils.
Two dark horns protruded from the sides of his head, behind the temples of his head. The gray horns curled out from the sides of his head, angled back in a particularly sleek manner.
Upon hearing his own name, the Demonfolk’s eyes flickered over to peer at the two. The Healer could see bags under his eyes. She attributed it to the constant magic draining he had been enduring.
“Ronn, Junil. You are here again. It has been a little over a month since you two last visited.”
His voice croaked. It was raspy, grating to the ears. On instinct, the Healer grabbed at her water canteen. But her companion thought otherwise.
“Junil,” the armored Hero said.
She stopped, to glance up at the Hero. “I’m just getting him water.”
“He does not need water.”
“Ronn, be reasonable. Can we just leave him in this state?”
The armored Hero turned to look at the shorter Healer. She could see his gray eyes from between the slits in his full-face knight helmet.
“We came here to question the Demon Lord. Nothing else.”
With hesitation, Junil capped her canteen.
As the two conversed with one another, Luth peered through the bars of his prison.
“Question? What are you looking to question me on? My armies have been smashed, my command has been dissolved, and my plans—”
“Enough.”
Ronn’s head snapped back to look at the Demon Lord, who shut up immediately.
“We are looking for your sibling.”
Upon hearing those words, Luth’s gaze darted away. He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure what to say.
“Do not try to fool us. We are well aware of their existence, from documents we have recovered.”
“I doubt you were able to find much,” Luth replied.
“The topic of how much information we were able to recover is irrelevant. Tell us what you know of them.”
The Demon Lord’s eyebrows furrowed, as though he was thinking the Hero was a fool.
“What do you want to know? Their age? Favorite food? Or the clothes they like wearing the most?”
“Do not evade the question. I am referring to their current location.”
There was silence for a few seconds before Ronn and Junil heard the raspy chuckle of the Demon Lord.
“Even if I knew, you think I’d tell you?”
“So you do not know.”
“No. I don’t. Now leave me to languish.”
The armored Hero took a loud step forwards, as close as he could without making contact with the enchanted metal bars of the cell.
“I am not finished. If you know nothing of their location, then tell me what you know about them.”
“I’m starting to think that the space in that metal helmet of yours is empty if you think asking any harder will get me to answer. I have all the reason to stay quiet.”
“If you tell us nothing, we will probably kill them.”
It was quiet for a handful of tense seconds.
“...And if I do?”
“They’ll most likely be captured, and they’ll occupy a cell next to yours.”
An additional chuckle could be heard from Luth before it was cut short by a cough. He immediately replied to Ronn as his hacking subsided.
“Getting stuck in here is a terrible fate, I’d say. Regardless, you’re never going to find her.”
“So. This sibling of yours is your sister?”
Silence permeated the air between the two. Junil fidgeted; she was growing uncomfortable at how tense the atmosphere was.
“I am losing my edge, dropping that tidbit of information on you. I’m remaining silent from here on out,” the Demon Lord said.
Ronn shook his helmeted head. “Fine. We will hunt her down ourselves. Junil, let us depart.”
But as he stepped away from the cell, Luth spoke up.
“Keep your word. If you do run across her... please treat her gently.”
“I can’t guarantee anything,” replied the Hero.
“You promised.”
Ronn stopped, then turned his head around to look at the Demon Lord.
“Not only have I not given an explicit promise, but the state your sister will be apprehended in will heavily depend on how much she cooperates. If we drag her in here bloodied and bruised, she will only have herself to fault.”
It looked as though Luth was going to say something in response. But he didn’t, and simply closed his eyes.
Seeing as that was the end of it, Ronn turned back around to catch up to Junil, who had already gotten a slight head start on departing. The clacking of the Healer’s pristine shoes contrasted with the metal-on-metal clinking of the Hero’s armor, both sounds echoing down the dim stone hallway.
Junil broke the silence once she had assured they were out of earshot of the Demon Lord.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“The Demon Lord was lying. He has an idea as to where this sister of his is.”
The Healer had to speed up her walking pace to keep up with the much taller and armored Hero.
“What are we going to do about it?”
“Subjugate her, of course.”
The pair walked in silence for the next fifteen seconds. The light at the end of the hallway slowly grew brighter as they neared the exit door.
“So, fill me in on this. What do we know about her, his sister? Other than whatever measly information he provided.”
“Were you not briefed by my messenger, or had you not been listening to what he had to say?” the Hero chastised.
Junil frowned and looked up at the man. “I was in the middle of my medical anatomy classes when your messenger barged in and startled me. Almost spilled acid all over the table!”
Ronn glanced down at the Healer.
“I apologize for that. But, medical anatomy?” he inquired. “Do you find your healing magic to be insufficient? You are one of the best in the nation, after all.”
“It’s not that, I just want to find a more organic approach at healing others,” she replied, in a huff. “And people were never considerate of my magical reserves. They always approached me for paper cuts or bumps on their heads, like they can’t handle a little wound!”
“I understand the sentiment, but this sounds like another attempt by you to justify your use of leeches.”
“Bloodletting is healthy for you.”
The armored Hero shook his head. “This discussion is going off on a tangent. Back to the original subject at hand, the Demon Lord’s sister.”
Ronn pushed the metal grated door out of the way, as they were met with the outside. From within the cell, it would’ve seemed as though they were underground, but they were anywhere but. Before them sprawled an impressive city. Even from this height, anyone could see that this city prospered: The streets were paved with smooth cut stones, with buildings of increasing height as they neared the gargantuan castle they were on. Pillars of smoke rose from rows of chimneys in the distance, where the newly-emerging coal factories rose from.
“I still can’t get used to this view from the Palace Spire,” Junil said. Her widened eyes took in the few before her, irises flickering left and right. “Where is Skarrol, anyway? You said he was around here somewhere?”
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“You wish to see him?” Ronn inquired.
“Yes. So I can tell him to give Lord Luth some water. Unlike you.”
Junil could hear an audible sigh rattle from beneath the Hero’s helmet.
“You shouldn’t...”
“—‘But I won’t stop you’ is what you’ll say next. Ronn, I’ve worked alongside you for a good few years now. I think I have a good idea of what you’re willing to do and not do.”
Ronn shook his head. “I won’t. But this is disrespectful.”
The Healer huffed. “Oh, shush. Not giving someone water when they’re thirsty is also disrespectful, too, but I won’t hear you ever complaining about people being disrespectful to the Demon Lord.”
“Miss Junil...”
Most others would’ve stopped there, if the Hero were to say their name in such a manner. But, as Junil had said earlier, she knew Ronn well enough as to how far she could push.
“...Either way, I must talk with Skarrol, too. Administrative matters,” Ronn said.
The two, who had stopped to admire the sights before them, detoured to a heavy wooden door that was near the metal grated door they just stepped through. It was the entrance to another cell.
The differences between the Demon Lord’s cell and this cell was noticeable the moment the two stepped through. Aside from the heavy wooden door, which allowed a degree of privacy, said wooden door was not even locked. There was even a large window at the end of the room, though it would have been more accurate to say that an entire wall was missing. A fabric tarp covered it up, allowing only a sliver of sunlight to flow through.
The contents of the room itself would have also been particularly eyebrow-raising for any newcomers; aside from a simple hammock in one corner and a table in another, various pieces of wood and tools surrounded the wooden structure of what appeared to be a large, wagon-sized model of a bird-like contraption.
And the individual who inhabited the ‘cell’, in question, was a young man with gray-white hair. His hair was done back, in a short ponytail, and several feathers similar in color to his hair also stuck out from his scalp.
His clothing was simple, consisting of a shorter-sleeved coat and knee-length pants dyed with black ink. Additional feathers hung off of his arms to interlock into a gray plumage, one that shimmered and reflected colors of cyan and violet when the sun hit them at just the right angle.
This was Skarrol, a Harpy. Or rather, he was half-Harpy, half-Human.
“Oh! Ronn and Junil!” he exclaimed, waving an arm up. He was kneeling down next to the bird-like contraption, a wooden mallet in hand. “How’ve you two been? Good, I hope?”
“I have been doing fine,” Ronn replied. “How about you? I do not see any of your pigeons around here.”
Skarrol stepped up from where he was kneeling, and walked over to the tarp-covered window.
“Oh, the guards were complaining about all the cages. And they’re difficult to clean out, so I decided to assemble some perches for ‘em,” the half-Harpy said.
Skarrol lifted the tarp to show several domestic pigeons perched on several long dowels, located in raised positions on the windowsill. The birds, which had been resting, perked their heads up with the interruption from Skarrol.
“No worries, little doves. Just go back to sleep, I was just showing you to my friends,” Skarrol cooed.
Both the Healer and the Hero simply stared at him, as he talked to his birds.
“Pigeons,” Junil said. “They’re pigeons, Skarrol.”
Skarrol flapped the fabric back down, and immediately turned his head to look at her.
“Dove is the scientific name!” the Harpy retorted.
Junil shook her head. “Nobody calls them doves. Everyone calls them pigeons.”
“Well, I like being accurate with my birds as much as you’re accurate with your medical science. And it sounds far more poetic, too. How else would I attract the ladies if I call myself a half-pigeon Harpy?”
Skarrol stepped away from the window and up to the two of them. “Either way, you two are here for a reason, and it’s not to make small talk over a cup of mead. What is it you need?”
The Healer was about to say something, but Ronn cut her off.
“The Demon Lord has been up to something as of late. Monitor any and all the magical communication he may attempt to make, and cut them off if there are any we have not managed to sever. Additionally, report to me with a messenger pigeon should any such situations arise. Do you understand?”
Skarrol gave an immediate salute. “Right-o, Sir Ronn! I can keep an eye on him easy. What was it you wanted to say, Junie?”
Junil didn’t realize her mouth was still open. She blinked twice, closed her mouth, then spoke.
“Just... Make sure you keep Lord Luth hydrated and fed. Ensure he’s not neglected. That’s about it.”
Junil threw a slight glare at Ronn as she spoke. One that was not noticed by the Hero at all.
“Keep him fed, got it!” Skarrol exclaimed. It took him a moment to fully realize what he just agreed to. “Wait, isn’t that the duty of the guard?”
“It is supposed to be, but everyone’s too scared to approach him,” Junil replied. “I just need you to make sure he isn’t hungry or thirsty.”
Skarrol scratched the back of his head warily. “I... well, sure, I can do it. I just don’t want to stay too close to him for too long, either.”
Junil gave a deadpan stare to Skarrol. She fished for something in her bag, and pulled her hand out to flick a small gold coin at the Harpy.
Skarrol caught it in midair, fumbling with it for a moment, then gave a good look at the coin.
“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal!” Skarrol exclaimed, while pocketing the coin. “I’ll make sure he’s fed! In fact, I’ll hand-feed him myself—!”
“I know, I know, you don’t need to tell me how,” the Healer replied. “Just don’t forget, alright?”
“And a notification,” the Hero stated. “I almost forgot to tell you, but your sentence shall remain so for six months, as decided by the courts.”
“Six months?” Skarrol exclaimed. “That’s six months of not being able to get wind-stones for good prices in the market!”
“You have also been banned from obtaining wind-stones for the duration of this house arrest.”
“Well, you’re the Hero. Pull a few strings maybe, get me some help here!”
“The primary reason you are on house arrest rather than in a cold jail cell at this very moment was because I had already commented in the court-martial to account for your service under my stead as a factor in your sentencing.”
Skarrol blinked.
“Wait, really?”
“What you did was foolish. But, factoring in your moral character and what you’ve done to help the Humans during the war, they were more willing to be lenient, considering the damage you have done. But I will not be able to provide you a second chance, should such an incident occur again.”
Skarrol sat down in a nearby wooden chair, and leaned back. “Well, the damage was bad, I’ll give you that. But I just need to calibrate those wind-stones a bit more. Just a little more, is that too much to ask for?”
Skarrol looked up at Ronn, and scratched his head.
“...He’s telling you not to blow the place up while we’re gone,” Junil stated.
“Oh.”
There was silence between the three for the next handful of heart-beats.
“That appears to be all we wish to say. We will be departing now.”
“...Alright,” Skarrol said. “I’ll be doing some woodcarving here while you’re at it. And I’ll send a dove if anything happens.”
Ronn turned around and stepped out of the room. Junil followed him. Once they had left Skarrol’s room, the silence between the two remained until Junil decided to break it with a question.
“What about the Demon Lord’s sibling do you already know? Fill me in on everything,” she said.
The duo began to step down one of the spiral staircases that went to the first floor of the building.
“There is little to fill you in on, as there was almost no information recovered about this individual. All we know at this very moment is that she exists, and that slip-up of the Demon Lord’s has given us has narrowed down the entire Demonfolk population by half.”
“But nothing else? Appearance, age?”
“We can extrapolate. She likely looks similar to him and is likely around his age. Hair and eyes that are bright orange, with horns that curl backward. While those are particularly common traits, we can essentially rule out a majority of Demonfolk who deviate from those traits.”
Junil gave an exasperated sigh. “Haven’t you considered other factors? What if his sister doesn’t look like him?”
“I do not see why not. They must have come from the same mother and father if they are siblings.”
“I’ve done studies in blending inheritance, so I’m more qualified to talk about it than you are,” the Healer retorted. “Regardless, they might just be half-siblings. And she could also be wearing a disguise!”
“...This will indeed make our search more difficult.”
Junil shook her head, as the two continued stepping down the spiral staircase.
“Regardless, I’m not sure why you want us to go after the Demon Lord’s sister. We haven’t heard of any major upsets in the Demonfolk territories, nor reports of suspicious activity,” she said.
“Do you really believe the Demon Lord would have no contingencies in the event he is defeated? We have fought him before. The Demon Lord is an intelligent individual.”
The Healer was left to ponder that statement for a second.
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Think from the perspective that he has a grand plan laid out for her.”
Junil furrowed her eyebrows. There was definitely one idea she had in mind, but it seemed rather improbable. But Ronn urging her on was starting to plant seeds of doubt over the improbability of it.
“Perhaps... his sibling is important, and he does not want us to get our hands on her?”
“You have a general idea, but that answer is too vague.”
“Then... This sister of his is a wanted General that’s committed heinous crimes. He is aware that harsh punishment will fall upon his own blood if he were to hand over her location.”
“You’re close enough for me to elaborate. Let us pause here.”
They were halfway down the spiral staircase of the Palace Spire before Ronn stopped. He looked up the stairs, then back down, to ensure there were no eavesdroppers about. When the Hero spoke to Junil, his voice was lowered.
“My primary concern, and theory, is that the Demon Lord trained his younger sister to take his place. Considering the Demon Lord’s reluctance to tell us anything about them, this is looking to be the case.”
“So, you believe that this sibling of his will be his second coming?”
“Precisely. She is an asset to him.”
The Healer looked up at the Hero, as she shifted her white cap. “Perhaps you are overreacting a little here? Like I said earlier, we haven’t heard of any notable movements within the Demon Lord’s territories. Our forces have dismantled almost all of his loyalist holdouts.”
“We have not heard of anything that we know of. If I must be frank, the lack of any major activity after Luth’s capture is suspect. We can only assume there are plots in play that we cannot see from the surface.”
Junil shrugged. “He could just be worried about his sister’s safety. Don’t you have brothers or sisters you love?”
“You’ve seen what that member of the Demonfolk has wrought upon the continent, so I do not know where you have conjured the idea that he is capable of worry for his kin.”
“Just grasping at whatever idea comes to mind to reason what he’s done.”
The Hero stood up straight and looked down at the shorter Healer. The girl felt his piercing gaze through the slits of his helmet. Although she felt like doing so, Junil did not shrink down at the oppressive gaze.
“It seems as if you’re looking for a reason to not confront this credible threat,” he muttered.
“...Chasing after monsters we’ve made up is not how we should operate,” the Healer retorted. “But you’ve made your point, that this can potentially be a threat. We need to see if we can gather the others first, though. Salkin and Fraul.”
Thankfully, the piercing gaze of the Hero shifted off of her as quickly as she had shifted the subject.
“Indeed, we should search for those two. Do you have any idea as to where they may be?”
Junil sighed, relieved that his gaze was now averted elsewhere. “I think Salkin owns a factory, right?”
“Yes, he manages one in the industrial districts. However, I am not aware of Madame Fraul’s whereabouts.”
“Me neither. Last I heard from her, she said she was going out on some business venture.”
The two finally reached the first floor and continued their way out. A hallway later, they reached a set of heavy wooden double doors. Said doors were carved intricately, with patterns lining the edges.
“I already have an idea as to where Sir Salkin may be. We shall head to him immediately.”
The Hero gave the centerline between both doors a push with a single hand. That was enough to get them to swing open, allowing both to step through.
Ronn gave a nod to two of the standing guards of the Palace Spire; they suddenly stiffened to attention, their ornate armor clacking as the soldiers stood upright. The Hero proceeded to turn around to give both of them a look, as if they did not look stiff enough already.
“Raise the guard around the Palace Spire, both physical and magical. Understand?”
“Sh-shouldn’t you be telling that to... to the Guard Captain, sir?” one of them asked.
“I have pressing matters at hand. Tell him that this is a direct order from the Hero himself. Understood?”
Two ‘Yes, sir!’s in sync affirmed that the guards understood.
Ronn nodded, then gestured for Junil to continue on walking with him. As both Hero and Healer picked their brisk pace back up, the two guards could be seen visibly relaxing once the Hero was out of earshot.
They continued walking through the stone-paved streets. The bustle of activity right outside was an immediate contrast to the inside of the Palace Spire, with all the storefronts selling their wares and people walking about.
Junil peered up at Ronn. “If you already knew about Salkin’s whereabouts, why did you ask?”
“You saw those soldiers there?” Ronn asked. “They’ve been lax on their guard duty until I stepped along, and they are lax once again. The knowledge you have is like that. It is good that you can recall where Sir Salkin is, unlike those types who allow themselves to grow complacent over time.”
Junil gave another sigh. “You don’t need to test me on every little detail, Ronn. I’m not that forgetful.”
“I need to ensure that my party members are as honed as they possibly can, in both body and mind.”
“Then you should’ve left me uninterrupted in my biology lessons.”
“Apologies for that. I was unaware you had such matters at hand prior to sending the messenger out.”