Demon Queened

My flight to the ocean was exhilarating at first. I flew as fast as I could, using magic to shield myself from the wind as I shot through the skies. I’m not actually sure what my top speeds were. I think it’s safe to say that I failed to break the sound barrier since there was no sonic boom, but the landscape did turn somewhat blurry beneath me. That was saying something, too, considering how sharp my eyesight seemed to be. When I slowed down over a forest, I could see the individual leaves on the trees, despite being easily fifty feet above them.

Unfortunately, my enthusiasm didn’t last, and within two hours of flying, I had already started to grow bored. Flight had always been part of my life as Devilla when it came down to it, and it was only my memories of being a flightless Jacob that had temporarily kindled fear and excitement within me. Diving after Abigail had forced me to confront that terror, however, and after testing my capabilities for a couple of hours, I couldn’t help but feel that the excitement was wearing off as well. Eventually, I stopped focusing on speed, dropping my air resistance spell and instead projecting the illusion of empty sky beneath myself. With that spell running in the back of my mind, I could allow my mind to wander without fear of being spotted from below.

Unfortunately, my mind kept wandering back to Abigail. More specifically, I kept asking myself what I was going to tell her when I got back. I definitely didn’t want to reveal that this world mirrored a porn game from my old world. I wanted to avoid telling her the exact nature of my past life, too. Humans weren’t precisely regarded with fondness among us demons, after all, and men were literally a foreign concept. Telling her that I wanted to let the heroine incite rebellion before fleeing the tower myself also seemed like a bad move. It was for the sake of my people, but it was only my knowledge of Tower Conquest that made me think that path would work out alright. 

With all that said, I really wasn’t sure what I could tell Abigail. If I stuck only to what was safe, she would probably leave me. Since she was the closest thing I had to a companion in this world, I really didn’t want that. Besides, if I was honest with myself, I really did want to tell someone at least some of the truth. Perhaps even all of it, one day. A confidante would make me feel so much better… but that was also the exact thing that gave me pause.

A confidante would make me feel better. It would likely do the opposite to whoever I confided in. As such, I couldn’t help but worry that I was simply being a selfish brat again. Wanting to keep a companion who didn’t even like me. Wishing to tell her things that would only bring her distress. If people thought Abigail was too close to me, it might even cause her trouble after the coup. If I really cared about her, it would surely be best to simply let her leave me. Yet even though my plan would doubtlessly end with her hating me, anyway, I still didn’t want to prematurely sever the relationship.

In the end, I failed to come to a conclusion. Instead, I got so lost in my thoughts that I blew straight by the beach and had to spend five minutes flying back toward shore.

When I had again reached the beach, I was faced with another conundrum. I was wearing heels like I always did. Black ones, that day, with three inches of heel and an open toe that showed off my black nails. My feet never grew tired or hurt, and I tended to fly when I was in a rush, so I rarely wore flats. It was hardly ever a problem. Hardly ever a problem. But I’d never before needed to land on a beach absolutely littered with seashells. They were literally everywhere, some big and some small, some in the shape of cones and others that looked like slightly concave circles.

If I had been walking, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I could have carefully made my way through what little space wasn’t covered in shells, or perhaps crushed them beneath my heels through sheer force, or pressed them so deep into the sand that it wouldn’t be an issue anymore. Trying to alight upon such an uneven surface, however, was a whole other matter. I would be off-balance from the start and would likely fall before I could get proper footing.

In the end, I had little choice but to fly even further ashore, landing on solid ground and making my way back down the beach. I was possibly a touch annoyed at the detour. Enough to stomp my way through the sand instead of daintily picking my way across it, at the very least. Eventually, however, I came to a stop near the edge of the shore.

“Well then,” I said to myself, as cold water washed over my ankles and then receded back into the sea. “What’s the best way to do this…” The most traditional way of getting salt from the ocean was probably to separate some water from the sea and then boil it. I hadn’t thought to bring any materials to hold the water, though, so that was out. In which case, why not take a more direct approach? Rather than trying to get rid of the water, I decided to simply focus on the salt. 

First, I spread my magic power through the water before me. Then, when I’d suffused a decently sized patch of ocean with my magic, I focused on isolating the salt. Finally, in much the same manner as I might pull a ball of dirt from the ground into the sky, I drew the salt directly from the water and into the open air.

Water surged up in response to my magic, drawn from the simple force of so much salt rising upward. A moment later, the water crashed back into the ocean, while the salt that had come with it remained hovering in midair. The pure white crystals looked as beautiful to me as they did tasty. Or almost, anyway.

Stretching a hand toward the salt, I curled my fingers toward myself in a gesture to come hither. It was a completely unnecessary piece of showmanship, without even an audience to impress, but I just couldn’t resist adding a little flair to what was otherwise a simple process. My casting quickly drew the salt toward me, and I soon had a veritable cloud of it above my head. From there, I simply opened up my pouch, pointed imperiously toward the opening, and began to funnel the salt directly inside.

Of course, a single pouch would generally be able to hold only so much salt. The amount I had conjured was far too much for the bag I carried, which was only a little larger than a man’s fist. Despite that, I had no concerns at all about being able to fit in as much sodium chloride as I wanted. In fact, despite all the salt that I’d already poured inside it, the bag still looked as empty as when I had started. Just as it always would. That was the nature of the holy item I had taken from the treasury, known colloquially as “the empty bag.” It would reject sapient creatures, and it was impossible to make anything larger than your average human fit in one piece, but it could hold an infinite number of small items. On top of that, no matter how much you stuffed it, it would always look empty. And, much like the holy sword that Luci brought down alongside it, it couldn’t be so much as lifted by anyone but its current owner. 

So long as the owner remained alive, at least.

Pushing negative thoughts aside, I waited a few seconds for the ocean to lap against me, and recede, and then repeat the process all over again. Once I was convinced that enough salt had suffused the water, I repeated my extraction process and channeled another cloud of white crystals into my bag. Saturating so much of the ocean with magic power would eventually make a dent in even my magic capacity, so I mixed up my mental image a bit on the third occasion. Instead of saturating the water and coating each bit of salt individually with my power, I spread a solid sheet of magic power under the ocean. I then focused on the idea of catching at the salt while letting water through. I then lifted the sheet of magic up and out of the water, curving the edges inward to avoid any spillage, and brought up another good portion of salt. This turned out to be a far more efficient use of my magic power, so I kept it up. It quickly grew boring and a little tiresome, but within another hour or so, I thought I finally had enough salt to at least start distributing it through the tower. I’d probably have to make more trips in the future, though.

“Maybe I could set up a teleportation circle?” I mused aloud. I could build a small stone structure and stick one inside it. Then I’d be able to transport from the tower to here with ease. Of course, I had never actually cast any sort of spatial magic myself before. I also wasn’t sure humans wouldn’t be able to make use of it if I created one, which seemed like a pretty significant security risk. And finally, there was the fact that I had never really paid attention to any of the details when it came to the teleportation circles at home. Since I’d always had someone else handle the “finicky bits,”  I wasn’t sure exactly sure how teleportation circles were supposed to look, let alone how they worked. 

I thought perhaps the circles I always used maybe matched? In which case, it might have had something to do with imagining the “sameness” between two places and connecting them. There might be other ways of pulling it off, too. A mental image of folding the space you’re in so that it touches the space you want to be in? Or maybe one could literally open a wormhole between two areas, somehow? The only thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t know nearly enough. Which meant I’d be flying back and forth for now.

“Maybe I should clear some of the seashells, then, at least,” I sighed. A good portion of them would probably come back, but it really was ridiculous how many of them there were. I supposed that was what happened when there weren’t any tourists to pick the things up, though. Indeed, the beach seemed utterly untouched by human hands, let alone demonic ones. No tourists, no local beachgoers, not even a fisherman for as far as the eye could see. This entire area had been left alone for who knew how long before my arrival. I could only imagine that helped make it a pretty good breeding ground for shellfish.

“...I got what I came here for,” I reminded myself. “I shouldn’t get greedy…” Still, if one really thought hard about it, it wasn’t actually salt that had brought me there. It was the desire for something delicious that had drawn me to the sea. And I couldn’t imagine anything more delicious than a good old fashioned clambake.

Shaking my head at how easy I was to sway, I decided to collect a little more of the ocean’s bounty. Walking along the coast of the sea, I sent a wave of magic through the ground, feeling for spaces where there wasn’t earth - where something had burrowed into the wet sand, in other words. From there, I used my hands to dig at the ground, even going so far as to get on my knees. I didn’t pay any mind to getting dirty. I wasn’t sure it would count as a proper washing, but I was fairly sure I could at least get any sand out of my clothes with a little magic after I was done. 

My efforts were rewarded, too. I found many of the clams I wanted. There were oysters, as well, which I took eagerly. I remembered them being called aphrodisiacs back on Earth, and while I was reasonably sure that was more myth than fact… Well, I wasn’t on Earth anymore. I was on Solla. And considering this world mirrored a porn game, I wasn’t willing to rule anything out. I grabbed as many oysters as I could find.

I needed seaweed, too, if I wanted a clambake. I used an air shield to keep away the water while searching the shore for some. and ended up revealing some mussels stuck to a set of submerged stones. Of course, I took them. My bag kept anything inside it in stasis, meaning that my seafood wouldn’t spoil no matter how long it took me to eat all of it. Every morsel would remain safe and fresh right up until I was ready to feast.

In the end, I ended up with considerably more oysters than anything else. If you took all the mussels and clams I had and multiplied them by two, you still wouldn’t have enough to match all the oysters in my bag. They must have been reproducing like crazy, which made me wonder again about the possibility of them being an aphrodisiac for real in this world. I would definitely have to try some later.

For now, though, I really had to get moving. I’d spent so long on seafood that the sky had started to darken, and heavy clouds had begun to fill the sky without my noticing. It looked like a storm was brewing, and if I didn’t get home soon, I might just get caught in it.

 

***

 

Lightning flashed through the sky above me, and the clap of thunder that followed felt almost like a physical force. The storm had been going on for half an hour, but the fear of getting electrocuted had kept me from trying to get above the clouds. I was instead hovering in midair, studying the map in a desperate bid to find somewhere to weather the storm. Even though the map was hopelessly outdated, I had to hope that the villages listed on it still existed in some form or another.

I was currently floating above a river, which forked in two different directions beneath me. The river was depicted on the map, thankfully, and apparently, following either branch would eventually bring me to a village. I decided to go with the left side, simply because my map showed it as being near a major road. They seemed more likely to have an inn or tavern where I could wait out the weather, and they would hopefully be more used to strangers.

With the map helping me, finding the village of Derrin was easy enough. With my illusion spell mimicking the dark clouds above me, I was able to fly directly above it without fear of being spotted. Well, not that there was anyone about to spot me. I couldn’t help but notice that the fields and streets were empty and that the windows were all carefully shuttered. Were they expecting the storm to be that bad?

 I made my descent a little ways outside of the village, choosing to land directly on the dirt road. I altered the illusion I was casting as I landed, deciding for now that I would simply darken my hair to test whether that would do as a disguise. If it did work, I’d likely want to get my hand on some brown dye. So long as I had a bottle of the stuff with me, I could simply use magic to quickly apply it whenever I feared human company. Stripping the pigment, afterward, would be an even simpler spell. This was all assuming that humans would let me get away with black nails and purple eyes, though.

I began to walk toward the village proper. There were two large stone walls around the town, one surrounding the fields and another encircling the buildings. Only the latter had a gate, however, and even then, it was clearly built solely to keep wild animals at bay. The locking mechanism was a simple latch, and the bars were wide enough apart for me to simply reach in and unlock it. From there, I simply strolled into the village, moving rapidly toward my first meeting with humans.

I was honestly a little nervous. Even beyond fearing for my disguise, I was about to encounter humans for the first time in this life. For the first time in this world. How would humanity differ on Solla compared to Earth?

Judging by the heroine, I knew humans at least

could have orange eyes. Was that the result of magic affecting human evolution? Or was it perhaps unique to the heroine herself? It could merely be a reflection of the angels’ influence. I hoped not - I couldn’t alter my eye color with anything other than magic, and if I had to maintain a spell constantly, just to spend time with humans, then I could go ahead and kiss my plan of living among them goodbye. Even if I could manage to cast the spell every moment I was in public, it would be pretty much impossible to work as an adventurer if I couldn’t use my magic and had to hide my inhuman strength.

“If only it was possible to cast two spells simultaneously,” I grumbled, walking down the road. It wasn’t possible, though. I wasn’t entirely sure of the theory behind it, but while spells could be used in conjunction with magical abilities, it was only possible to wield a single actual spell at any given time. It was still quite convenient compared to Earth, where one couldn’t use magic at all, but there was no denying that the system had some severe vexations baked into it.

Above me, another bolt of lightning struck across the sky. It was followed by a peal of thunder, which made it sound as if the sky itself had been torn asunder. Then the rain began to fall. Thick, heavy drops struck the dirt road, turning the tightly packed earth into slick mud that caught at the heels of my shoes. The droplets further struck against me, plastering the thin fabric of my clothing against my body.

I fought the urge to run, too worried that my heels would lose traction in the mud. I couldn’t use magic to get rid of the water pelting me, either, not if I wanted to maintain my illusion of having brown hair. I had no choice but to walk through the village, peering at the various buildings and searching for a proper place to rest.

Most of the houses I saw looked to be residential, but one, in particular, boasted a second story. A sign hung in front of the door, depicting a bed and a mug of beer. Even without any lettering, I could recognize this as an inn. The windows were shuttered, and the door was closed, but a faint light could be seen emanating from the cracks in both.

I grabbed hold of the door’s handle and turned it but hesitated on the final push. I knew I was dwelling a bit, but this really would be my first time among humans, as Devilla. What exactly would it be like? 

As a descendant of Luci, I was supposed to honor the goddess’s will and value the sanctity of all sapient life. Tradition held that I  would only raise my hand to fight the heroine, herself - and only after she’d thoroughly soaked her soul in violence and grown too strong for mortals to handle, through the angels’ power. All of which was easy to say, but… I had honestly always hated humans, a bit, in this life. The demons were my people, after all, and these naked apes were their oppressors. They were the ones who’d taken our lands, destroyed our homes, and killed so many of our kind.

They were the reason I had no mother in this life. Their thirst for war, their conviction that they were in the right, and their thrice damned belief that humanity could only rest when I and all of mine were wiped from this world - all of it, together, made my blood boil. When I opened the door, would I see people on the other side? Or would I see enemies?

I wasn’t here to cause trouble. If I couldn’t control my temper, I would excuse myself before things went wrong. It was vital for me to know, in any case. Even if everything else went according to plan, I would hardly be able to live among humans if just seeing one made my blood pressure rise.

Taking a deep breath, I shifted my grip on the knob and swiftly pulled the door open. There were humans on the other side, just as I expected. They were primarily gathered around a single wooden table, though a few people were off to the side, rolling dice atop half a barrel. Among them, I saw green and blue hair, paired with violet and orange eyes, as well as more traditional colors. I didn’t see a single person with pure white hair, though, so it seemed that deciding to darken my tresses might have been right on the money.

The people themselves seemed the simple sort. Their clothes were much drabber than what we had in the demon tower and looked to be made of rougher fabric. They also covered considerably more of their bodies, which might have had something to do with the way everyone was staring at me. I hadn’t really thought about it, but I was wearing a backless, black, cropped halter top with a boob window, a very short red skirt, and a pair of black heels that showed off my “painted” toenails. Rather than ending in the furious rage that I had feared, my first encounter with humans might just end up killing me through sheer embarrassment.

“Ah…” I started, then stopped. My throat felt like there was a solid lump of something dry caught in it, and no matter how I swallowed, I couldn’t get it down. Everyone was staring at me. They weren’t hostile glares, merely confused and curious looks, and yet they had me pinned like a butterfly beneath glass. 

“I ah…” I coughed faintly, then thumped a hand against my chest as if trying to clear away some congestion. “I am Eena. I am on a… ah…” The world seemed to slow for a moment as I realized that I had failed to come up with a ready-made excuse for traveling about without an escort or any luggage. My mind started to race, but all I could come up with was a rather pathetic excuse. “I’m on a journey of self-improvement, seeking to increase my strength by living off the land. But uh. The land got wet, so I thought I might come inside until it dried off.”

For a moment, the inn was utterly silent. Everyone simply stared at me, no doubt turning my words over and over in their heads. Which was honestly a better reception than I deserved, with a lie like that one. If I’d been in their shoes, I’d have tossed the stranger out on her ear.

“It must have been hard,” one of the men rumbled, after a moment, sliding off his stool and onto his feet. He had broad shoulders, and his well-muscled arms went fairly thick on the hair. “A girl like you, out in the cold and the rain. Why don’t I buy you a drink? Maybe some food. Get you nice and warmed up. We can have a conversation about what it’s like, living off the land.”

I’d never actually been hit on by a man, in this life or my last, but it seemed that particular vein of good fortune had just been depleted. Still, I hesitated, caught between relief that this green-haired man wasn’t pressing my story and irritation that he was only accepting it because he wanted in my pants. Being around humans meant being around men, though, some of whom would inevitably flirt with me. I’d simply have to shut them all down as firmly as I could.

“...Thank you, but I can buy my own food and drink,” I told him, at last. 

“You sure?” the man pressed, leaning forward a little. “Tasha runs a pretty pricey establishment. You didn’t hear it from me, but I think she overvalues her stew a bit.”

“I’m quite certain,” I confirmed, trying not to flinch. It was important to remain firm when turning a man down. Even the relatively nice ones could prove shockingly stubborn if you gave them false hope.

“Well, if you’re that determined to pay for your own meal,” the gentleman grumbled, settling back down on his stool. 

“I am,” I confirmed, again, giving him a firm nod. Even though I absolutely wasn’t. Actually, I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay at all. It was embarrassing to admit, but I’d never actually handled my own cash during my life as Devilla. As a result, I’d all but forgotten that managing one’s own money was a thing, to begin with. I had taken some coins from the treasury but, even if I could pass my demonic currency off as human coinage, there was the small fact that all of it was stamped with a likeness of my own face. I also had a couple gemstones meant for trading, but my brief walk through the village didn’t lead me to believe these people had anything so niche as a jeweler on hand.

“Alright, alright,” Sir Green Hair agreed, “but don’t come crying to me when your wallet’s empty at the end of the night, you hear?”

“Oh, let it go, Jackson!” a blue-haired woman cried out, slamming her fist against the table with enough force to send her mug rattling. Or at least I thought it was a mug. It appeared to be made of leather, held together by tar. A blackjack, perhaps? I’d never seen one before, but I’d read about them during my previous life as part of a late-night wiki dive.

“After three rejections, even you should be able to get it through your thick head that she isn’t interested,” the woman continued, grabbing hold of her mug and taking a long swig before slamming the leather vessel back down on the table. “Besides, I think the local girls you’re already sleeping with might have a few objections to you hounding a stranger.”

“I’m not mad,” volunteered a blonde woman, sitting on Jackson’s left. “But I think I’ll be spending a little more time with Thomas and Ashton than I usually do if you catch my meaning.”

“And I’ll be spending extra time with Dina,” added the girl sitting across from Jackson. She had purple hair, blue eyes, and crossed arms. While the first girl’s face was a careful mask of neutrality, this one was scowling fiercely in Jackson’s direction.

“W-Wait a minute,” Jackson stammered, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “You don’t think I actually meant anything by all that, do you? I was just trying to be a gentleman. She’s not even my type! You know I prefer more vibrant hair colors!”

“You really are soaked,” Miss Blonde Hair commented, eyeing me up and down. “Between that and the fact that you seem to be missing about half your clothes, you must be fairly chilled.”

“Yeah,” Miss Purple Hair added. “Why don’t you take a seat at the table and order up some stew? I think Jackson was about to offer up his stool.”

“Like hell I was!” Jackson protested. “There’s an empty seat right next to me.”

“That’s funny. Do you see any empty stools on this side of the table, Lissera?”

“Why no, I don’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure the only empty seats are the ones next to the kitchen. And we wouldn’t want to make this poor, soaking wet woman walk all the way down there, now would we, Monica?”

Both girls turned their eyes toward Jackson as they spoke. Lissera was glaring daggers, but it was the look on Monica’s face that sent a shiver down my spine. She had a faint smile on her lips as if she were mildly amused by the whole situation, but her gaze was set to a temperature best reserved for freezers.

“...Show a little concern for a stranger, and suddenly you’re out in the cold,” Jackson muttered, standing. His voice was pitched low, and his words were mumbled, likely not even loud enough for Monica to hear from her position right beside him. My ears picked it up all the same, though, if only because I was listening for it. Despite his anger, his muttering didn’t sound like the sort that would cause me any trouble. Indeed, he was obediently trudging toward the end of the table.

Of course, that left me standing at the front with about a dozen stares focused in my direction. 

“...Well?” Monica asked me after a moment, gesturing to the now-vacated stool. The faint smile was still on her lips, but now the amusement was actually reflected in her eyes. “Are you going to take a seat, or aren’t you?”

“Hold on,” Lissera protested, standing up from her seat and walking toward me. I stood stock-still as she strode toward me, eyeing her warily. I hoped she wasn’t planning to blame me for the situation. I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong, but if she kicked up a fuss, it was entirely possible the other villagers would take her side on the matter.

A prickly sensation ran across my entire body for a moment, and I realized with a start that the woman’s magic was washing over me. It didn’t feel very powerful; nothing I couldn’t defend against, at the very least. But if I fought back, it would require dropping the illusion on my hair. The only other defensive option available to me, though, was to incapacitate the caster through physical methods. I had the feeling that wouldn’t go over well with the other villagers, either.

The prickling intensified, and I realized with a start that I was already too late. The spell was being cast, and I’d have no choice but to endure it at this point. Thankfully there didn’t seem to be enough power in this spell to deal any real damage to me, but I still didn’t like the idea of taking this woman’s scorn when none of this was my fault.

Except, instead of a rush of pain or a blast of heat, the sensation I felt was… Dry? The water that had been clinging to my body was suddenly pooled at my feet, spreading outward across the floor. And Lissera, who’d done it, was smiling in front of me.

“...Thank you,” I managed, after a moment of staring at her in shock. “I’m afraid I ran through my magic capacity while trying to escape the storm…”

“Well, hey, it’s nothing special,” Lissera protested, smiling brightly at me. “It’s not nearly enough to apologize for Jackson, anyhow. He’s a good lay, but I swear he’s the absolute worst to be around - err… No offense, Monica,” Liserra hurried to add, shooting a worried glance at the blonde woman.

“It’s fine,” Monica replied, with a sigh, shaking her head sorrowfully. “I know I’m the only one in town fool enough to actually date the man.”

“I think everyone but Jackson knows that,” Lissera responded, with a laugh, slapping at her thigh.

“But seriously,” Liserra continued, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear as she smiled at me, “Jackson’s as much my lay as her boyfriend. I feel a bit responsible. Let me buy you a bowl of stew to make up for it?”

“Well… I am rather low on funds,” I admitted, begrudgingly moving toward the stool. I lowered myself carefully onto the flat wooden surface, glad that my ass provided a little of the cushioning that my seat was reluctant to give.

“Hey, Tasha!” Lissera yelled out, directing her gaze to an open door toward the back. “Can you put another bowl of your famous stew on my tab? We’ve got a hungry traveler here.”

“Aye, and a cute one, too, from all the fuss everyone’s making!” a loud voice called back. A moment later, what I could only assume was the innkeeper emerged from the backroom. Tasha was a somewhat portly, middle-aged woman with short-cropped brown hair that stopped directly at her neck’s nape. Her arms seemed more thick with fat than muscle, yet she was somehow supporting a large cask on one shoulder, with one hand, and holding a wooden bowl in the other. She placed the meal on the table in front of me and then deposited the cask on the floor with a heavy thud. “Who wants a refill?”

Several of the leather mugs were lifted into the air, and Tasha began the task of gathering and refilling them. That seemed to mark the end of Staring at the Stranger time, as the majority of them quickly went back to their food and drinks.

“So what brings you to our little out of the way village?” Lissera asked me, just as I was reaching out to pull my stew closer.

“Like I said, I’m on a journey of self-improvement,” I told her, reluctantly turning my attention away from the stew. I was actually getting fairly hungry, but there was something about what Lissera said that intrigued me. “I thought this road was fairly popular, though?”

“Popular?” Lissera let out a short, derisive laugh. “Maybe fifteen years ago. I don’t really remember it, but we supposedly got a lot of merchants back before the kingdom completed that road through the Dorrin Plains. Whoever told you that we’re popular now was either messing with you or incredibly out of date. 

But anyway, I’d rather talk about you than this dusty old place,” Lissera informed me, with a smile. “You keep saying you’re on a journey of self-improvement, right? Well, what are you trying to improve?”

“I don’t know myself,” I told her, shrugging my shoulders. “My mother’s last wish was that I travel the world and discover my place in it.”

“I. I see,” Lissera whispered, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” I promised, trying not to grimace at her earnest reply. I’d only told the best lie available to me. It was simple enough to remember and vague enough that I wouldn’t have to come up with a bunch of details. On top of that, I suspected people would be unwilling to strictly question me on any subject that involved a dead parent. I did feel a bit guilty for using my mother that way, but I didn’t think she’d mind if it kept me from being discovered.

It still didn’t feel great to be playing on people’s sympathies, though.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Monica said, speaking up from beside me for the first time since I’d sat down. There was a distant look in her eyes as she spoke to me as if she wasn’t entirely present in the conversation. After a second, however, her gaze focused on me. “I do have to ask, though. If you’re traveling on your lonesome, without funds, and with no apparent wares, just how are you supporting yourself?”

“Well, I’ve mostly been doing odd jobs in return for lodgings,” I told them, relying on my experience as Devilla to smoothly lie. “But I’m actually thinking of joining the adventurer’s guild next time I’m in a big city. Maybe start taking on some jobs…”

“The adventurer’s guild?” Lissera asked me, voice breathy and excited. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. I knew you were strong the moment you walked in - just the fact that you’re traveling alone in horned wolf territory shows that.”

“Horned wolf territory?” I asked, brow furrowing. “You mean those beasts are actually near the town?” I didn’t actually know much of anything about horned wolves. There were no horned wolf monster girls, so far as I knew, and if my teachers had ever brought them up, then I hadn’t been paying attention. Still, it was relatively easy to guess what they were, and having them near a human settlement hardly seemed favorable.

“You didn’t know?” Lissera asked, mouth opening into a small “o” of surprise. “I guess the word’s still spreading. The merchants certainly learned it fast enough, though. Not that we ever got many of them down here, but now we aren’t getting any…”

“It’s something of a problem,” Monica contributed, frowning. “We grow plenty of food to support ourselves, but we’re not entirely self-sufficient. If we can’t sell our crops or spend our money… Well. One of the villagers actually had a horse, old as it was, so they’re taking it down to Mirral - the city down south, I mean. He’ll be putting up a request at the adventurer’s guild, actually.”

“I see,” I murmured, noncommittally. This wasn’t my problem. It was a human concern. And I wasn’t even an adventurer, yet, so I had no place taking on their requests for them, besides. Still. “How many of them are there?”

“We don’t know,” Lissera confessed. “Nobody’s really gotten a good count. But we hear the howling at night. And we saw how they descended on the last merchant who actually dared to come down here…”

“They sound… Aggressive,” I commented, again trying to keep as noncommittal as possible. This really, truly, absolutely wasn’t something I needed to stick my nose into. Just because Liserra used her magic to dry me and bought me stew. It was all an apology for that asshole boy toy of her’s, anyway. I was under no obligation to do anything at all.

I kept repeating that in my mind, but it didn’t stop my stomach from churning.

“I do hope you aren’t planning anything, Miss Eena,” Monica remarked, reaching out to grab my bowl and pulling it closer to me. “Twenty wolves isn’t anything a would-be adventurer should tackle solo.”

“That’s right,” Liserra chimed in, grabbing hold of the wooden spoon and handing it to me. “You’re not even an adventurer yet, anyway, right? Just focus on staying safe tonight. And hey, if you don’t have a place to crash, there’s always my place.”

“...Thank you,” I told Lissera, forcing myself to give her a faint smile. “I’ll consider it.” I was planning to head home as soon as the rain broke, but it didn’t hurt to be polite when the girl was making such an obvious effort to be welcoming.

Truthfully, I had lost my appetite. But Lissera had paid for my meal, and I thought it would be rude not to eat it, so I stuck my spoon in the bowl and pulled up a chunk of something, drenched in a thick, creamy white liquid. Steam was rising up from my meal, so I blew lightly on the stew before bringing it to my lips.

It was hot. Tragically underseasoned. And, as I’d feared, entirely devoid of salt. Despite that, I immediately drove my spoon back into the bowl and pulled out another of the little chunks. Not even bothering to blow on it anymore, I shoved that and several more bites into my mouth until I was sure without a doubt. 

“This,” I declared, gesturing to the stew, “has potatoes in it. Doesn’t it?”

“I’m surprised you know what those are,” Monica remarked, raising a single eyebrow.

“That’s right!” Lissera volunteered, smiling brightly in contrast to Monica’s faint frown. “They’re our village’s specialty. They aren’t really native, but they still grow pretty damn well!”

I didn’t reply, choosing instead to finish the stew before pushing the bowl away. Then I pushed back my stool and stood. “Well then. It seems I have a wolf problem to deal with.”

“What are you talking about?” Monica demanded. “This request is meant for an entire party to handle. There’s no way you can do it by yourself.”

“That’s right,” Lissera confirmed, nodding vigorously. “Besides, we all sent as much money as we could spare with Trevill. There wouldn’t be anything in it for you.”

“Is that so?” I asked them, a small smile slipping across my lips. I was aware of multiple eyes on me, as the townsfolk once again ceased their conversation to see what the stranger was up to. This time it didn’t bother me, though. In fact, it was perhaps for the best that they all heard what I had to say.

“Very well!” I declared, projecting my voice. “I’ve made up my mind. I will save this town from the pack of currs that threaten it.”

“But we really can’t reward you for it,” Lissera protested, again, as murmuring broke out among the gathered townsfolk.

“But you can,” I promised her, a smile slipping across my features. “You’ll simply have to pay me in potatoes.”