“Oh by all the bloody Ravener-spawn! Tell me if I got any o’ this wrong.” Cedric said, his face flushed and his jaw tight. “So there was…this bloody demon conjurer, or summoner or somethin’ o’ that sort in yer city. An’ he went on a bloody rampage before you caught him. But the strongest, rotting, bastard of a demon he summoned got clean away? An’ these pirates follow that bloody demon?”
An agitated group stood in one of the administration tents: the Heroes, Baelin, and the higher ranked members of the expedition. Professor Jules silently watched with arms crossed, tensely chewing her bottom lip. Tightly clustered around the entrance, the other expedition members listened, murmuring to each other. Their low tones reached Drestra’s ears.
The chancellor was leaning over a large, solidly built table with life-like images of demons spread across it. Above the table, Baelin had cast illusions of a host of demons in motion, floating through the air. Some were engaged in fierce battles, some flapped outstretched wings like birds of prey, some marched within hordes, and others seemed to watch the others with malice.
Drestra was examining the drawings slowly, tracing their shapes with her fingers. She paused, studying a particular draconic looking creature, and another that looked insectile; in some ways, they reminded her of Ravener-spawn…with a lot of the same horrible features the creatures they’d been battling for more than a year had.
Her reptilian eyes kept moving from one monster to the next, until one caught her attention and held it.
It was dazzling, one might even call it beautiful there floating among the illusions high above the table. Could demons actually radiate light? This one was more like a perfectly cut jewel with dozens of rhombic faces that displayed otherworldly lights swimming deep inside a jewel-like structure, than any demon she’d ever seen or heard of. It looked inviting and perfectly harmless, yet Baelin watched it with an expression as dark as a gathering storm.
“Ezaliel is the name of that one. It is one of the abyssal knights, to be precise. Leopold was the rogue who summoned him; and this summer past, his fondness for summoning this foul creature met its end at the hands of a deleo in Generasi. The scope of his crimes was vast, but mercifully, his bargain of terror and slaughter ended when he was apprehended, but the demon escaped his fate when it fled back to its home plane. It seems that its stench still lingers on the material one.” Baelin seemed to bristle with anger before continuing. “Abyssal knights often have cults on the material plane. The execution of its summoner would not end the demon’s influence…and the symbol you found matches that of Ezaliel. I fear the incidents are related.”
Cedric swore. “Well, that’s bloody great. Bloody demons now.” He turned to Drestra. “You know anything about demons?”
She paused on a drawing of a three-eyed, muscular demon, carefully studying the image. “This is a Tiashiva.”
Baelin looked at her with interest. “Why yes, you know of them?”
“They were a part of our past. Some of the witches of Crymlyn were once practised in summoning them because their strength makes for good warriors, and their senses make them good hunting companions.”
“Indeed. But why in the past? Is there a reason you cast the practice aside?” She touched the image. “It's an ugly story.”
“The world can be an ugly place at times,” the chancellor said. “If we only told the pretty stories, then we would be no better than liars. Please continue, if it doesn't pain you.”
Drawing herself up, Drestra began. “The witches of Crymlyn once rejected Uldar in favour of our ancestors, spirits from the natural world, and certain fae guardians. These were the old ways. The church tolerated what they called “unacceptable views,”until some of our number left the Crymlyn, travelling throughout Thameland, actively discouraging Uldar’s worship. That, they weren’t so tolerant of.”
Her gaze went to the back wall of the tent where a large map of Thameland hung. “In our kingdom there are too many fairy tales to count of witches stealing children, and many believed that those ugly tales were true back then. It was said that we were no better than blue annis hags, and some of our number were butchered by mobs after being falsely accused of some of the worst crimes imaginable. The church encouraged their lords to not seek justice for our fallen. So, in retaliation, a priest who’d come to our lands to convert the Crymlyn to Uldar’s worship was killed, and her body left in a nearby village as a warning. That was the final straw that snapped the back of the draft horse, so to speak.”
Her adoptive mother’s stories came back to her, told by candlelight inside a hut with inner walls painted with their history. “That’s when they censured the witches: the priests refused to intervene on the witches’ behalf during Ravener cycles: so, we learned to strike our assailants through forest-craft and magic. Then, they herded the monsters toward our homes so surrounding communities could be spared. Some of our elders were enraged and attacked the church…but it triumphed, and those elders were wiped from history. Eventually, it became too much for us to bear, so we sought peace with the priests. A treaty was drafted and signed. Now, there’s justice for the witches if we’re attacked, and we have full support when the Ravener rises every hundred years.”
She remembered the holy place in the centre of her village, in the middle of a set of standing stones. “Now, we have a small shrine to honour Uldar beside the statues of our ancestors, nature's spirits and fae guardians, and we no longer summon demons…or anything that could form an army. As the Sage in this cycle, I’m the one exception.”
“Aye, I heard tales o’ that,” Cedric said. “The clans follow Uldar an’ the old ways too, an’ some of my ancestors came to us from the Crymlyn: settled down wit’ my people while war was tearin’t through the Swamp. My clan’s magic comes from those journeying witches. We all have ta do what's necessary ta survive.”
A low sound—almost like growl—emerged from deep within Baelin’s chest. “Demons and other summoned monsters and spirits are incredibly useful. Your church—”
Jules cleared her throat.
He paused, seeming to think better of something. “—well, leaving that aside, demons are useful tools for any wizard. And your people have my empathy. I too have lived through such censure. Different deities. Different priests. Same blood spilled. But my point stands, demons are useful.”
“And dangerous,” Hart said, looking over the illusions and diagrams. “Lone wolf wizards have a nasty way of setting demons to guard their towers like watchdogs. We fought a few in the Ash Ravens, and I’ll never forget this one big bastard. Looked like an ogre or something, at least at first. Then he changed shape…turned into a lion with bull’s horns and bat’s wings. We lost a lot of the band in that fight.”
He lifted the piece of parchment with the symbol scrawled across it. “Been looking for a chance for a reckoning with demons ever since I got the Champion’s Mark. This might be it. Now, what in all hells’ an abyssal knight?”
“I suppose one can describe it as being much like a knight of Thameland: a warrior who rules a fief and is a leader among the people. Except, these knights rule fiefs in the endless abyss and are leaders among demons…but sometimes, they gain worship on the material plane as well.”
“So we might be dealin’ wit’ this bloody thing, all its followers, an’ demons?” Cedric scowled. “Well, that’s jus’ bloody great. It’s not like Thameland’s free o’ problems right now: we had ta deal with bloody interlopers in past cycles. But demons? Ach.”
“That’s why we’re the Heroes, I guess,” Hart said. “We fight monsters. Guess it’s just one more monster to fight. But, why’re these cultists and demons coming here now?”
“If I had to guess,” Baelin said. “Leopold’s contact on our team likely divulged the potential value of dungeon cores, betraying both our mission and our trust. I have to wonder if these cultists are after the cores.”
“Aaaah, that bloody well figures,” Cedric grunted. “Well, it seems like we got ourselves a mix o’ blessin’ an’ curse, right here. On the one side, we’ll get more people muckin about, tryin’ ta grab dungeon cores n’ bein’ a menace. On the other side, that’s one more group ta’ be givin’ them spawn some trouble. Like I said, s’not like this is the first time interlopers came ta’ Thameland. It’s jus’ another bloody nuisance, is all.”
“Indeed, and these wretches cannot be allowed to freely move about with the goal of laying their hands on valuable research material for their own foolish ends,” the chancellor said. “Rest assured my young friends, we will join with you in hunting these demonic servants. Even if that means having to eventually break them at the source. But for now…Professor Jules, would you mind instructing one of your graduate students to gather some literature about these demons? Documents detailing the demonic servants most often summoned by those associated with Ezaliel would be most helpful. Our young allies should be provided with intelligence they could find useful.”
“I’ll have someone put together what we have, though it will take time.” Her voice was subdued, like there was emotion there she was trying to bury.
“Not a problem,” Baelin said, looking at the Heroes. “If you wouldn’t mind telling us where your next few destinations are going to be over the next week? I’ll see to it that the literature makes its way to you.”
“Thanks,” Hart said. “Well, more monsters to fight anyway, and that’s always a good thing as far as I see it. I’m not one to complain about that. You’ve all done a hell of a lot of good for us already, so unless these bastards get real nasty, I say it’s no problem. We’ll keep our focus on the Ravener. That's the biggest threat, so we gotta take it out first. If those cultist snakes get to be a problem, we’ll just beat them down when we need to.”
“Indeed, spoken like a true tactician,” Baelin said. “A Proper Wizard or warrior destroys their most dangerous foe first, that way they can both mitigate damage, and ease the rest of the battle against lesser threats.”
“Aye…” Cedric paused, his eyes narrowing. They unfocused for a moment, as if he was looking at something else. A memory, perhaps. “Aye, that’s the smart way, ain’t it?”
“Mhm,” Baelin said, looking at Drestra.
“Did you have a question, my young friend?”
“Hm?” the Sage looked at him in surprise. “Er, yes. How did you know?”
“I have taught for more years than most current kingdoms have existed,” Baelin said. “If I cannot tell when someone has a question burning away at the depths of their mind, then I must say that I do not deserve my considerable wages.”
“Hmmm.” She looked down at the illustrations spread out on the table. “You said that this summoner…he conjured whole armies of demons?”
“Indeed,” the chancellor said. “Through a back route, as it were. He was a powerful wizard, but not powerful enough to summon and bind an entire army on his own. He was powerful enough to conjure the abyssal knight through a pact he had forged with the entity, then—on the material plane—that knight was powerful enough to summon its armies. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes…” Drestra said, falling deep into thought. “Yes it does.”
An army. An army conjured from nothing.
That was what they were trying to have Lord Aenflynn grant them. In return, he wanted children, enough children to one day, replace any losses his army took. He also wanted human parents to take care of changelings as their own.
She frowned.
The fae lord had offered them two solutions, but were there really only two ways to decide? Did it really come down to only yes or no? Alex had suggested finding a third path. Baelin had mentioned ignoring nosources.
And she’d just learned that interlopers who could summon entire armies had come to Thameland.
She wondered if she was looking at the problem with the fae lord in the wrong way. Aenflynn had only offered two solutions. He’d never said anything about forbidding a counter offer.
What if there was a way to get him what he wanted without using children awaiting adoption. Wouldn’t that satisfy everyone?
Drestra’s reptilian eyes narrowed, almost with shame.
All this time she’d been judging others for not trying to find new solutions while she’d been blindly trying to just choose between two hard choices without exploring more…creative options.