Chapter 7: Ch. 6

Standing outside the Adventurers Union Hall, the two figures drew much attention. On one hand, a woman in the meticulously gilded armour marking a knight of the Temple Guard, the dark purple tunic giving away the breadth of her status. Opposite her a diminutive figure in terms of physique, but with an elegantly commanding presence despite his raw age.

“Are you sure about this?” Lady Fiona, Knight Captain of the Eastern Heavens, the Temple Guard of the Church of Ystar, asked again, her ostentatious helmet tucked under her arm. “The life of an adventurer isn’t easy for anyone, let alone a child. With this letter, you could be adopted by any noble family in the realm—perhaps even be named a duke of the royal family. You’d never want for anything.”

She held the carefully sealed envelope out to Vassago sombrely. “Are you really sure? To be frank, in contrast it would be barely enough to allow you an entrance examination in the Union.”

“Yes.” Vassago took the letter, waving it at her. “That’s exactly why.”

The Union had a status of polite mutual interest with the various countries it had a presence in, but was independent from them all and didn’t allow themselves to be swayed by local political powers. This benefited the countries in turn as much as it restricted them, creating an anti-monster paramilitary that couldn’t be taken advantage of by money or political interests. In return for being allowed to operate with a certain amount of autonomy, Unions agreed to obey laws of public order and pay a land tax, as well as agree to negotiate contracts with the local governments at a discount. The income earned from local resources more than made up for the deficit, after all.

This kind of untouchable, independent operation was far more advantageous to Vassago’s motives than a decorative title and some pocket change.

In short: he wanted to be left alone without responsibilities.

The gods wanted the world to be cleaned up of monsters so he’d play his part; since he was stuck here now too, if the world ended he’d end with it, after all. But expecting him to go running back to that shackle of a throne? No. Let the current Demon King run amok. It wasn’t his problem anymore.

“Well, can’t say I don’t understand that feeling.” Fi sighed, grimacing as she glanced at her glitzy armour. The armour didn’t hide the fact that she was a lower city woman originally. The temple guardsmen were one of the few orders that would accept applicants without aristocratic backgrounds, and many had conspired to gain titles of knighthood in order to raise their family to better conditions through it.

But it was a difficult regime, and there were more dropouts than there were successes. That she rose through the ranks and earned not only a title, but captaincy, spoke to her abilities. He did have to admire the sheer skill and tenacity it took for her to grasp her current position. Why not? After all, he held no hostility or hatred towards humans and the other “civilised” races, despite the historical rift. Even any sense of jealousy over their flourishing lands had long since faded into tired apathy.

Fi had been introduced to him after he’d made his intention to join the Union known, and shown he was adamant about it. At his age he wouldn’t be allowed to join without a guarantor and sponsor, so a letter of allowance had been written by a cardinal of the church, and Fi had been brought along as a middleman to negotiate a sponsor, since her background from the lower city gave her connections with many active adventurers.

“Very well. I’ll play my part in trying to find you a sponsor, but I make no promises. That part will rely mostly on you.”

She pushed open one of the large oak double doors, displaying the expansive Union Hall within. It was half a bar and half a business of operations, but that was the sort of place the Union was. The behind-the-scenes bureaucracy was run with military-like efficiency, but the adventurers themselves were casual and free natured.

It was a good time of day. Though there were plenty of people enjoying time off from the Union work, drinking and carousing, it was still a relatively thin crowd compared to its potential as a capital city Union Hall. Plus, those that were here weren’t interested in anything but their drink and company.

“Vera, I’ve got someone I want you to meet.” Fi headed straight to the back counter, Vassago quickly shadowing her. She placed her helm down on the countertop, performing a ritualistic salute, before gesturing to the head hidden below countertop-height.

“Who? A halfling?” The woman behind the counter, a tidy middle-aged woman with her grey-streaked hair in a loose bun, leaned over the polished wood. “A child!? Not another kid from the lower city…?”

Vassago ruffled his hair, which was now a lighter shade of brown thanks to a simple concealment charm.

“No.” Vassago passed the letter of allowance to the woman, channelling the innate harmless stupidity he’d seen in Murai as best he could in order to blink innocently at her.

She gave a suspicious hum when she saw the seal on the letter, casting a quick glare of query at Fi, but quickly tore it open and scanned the contents.

“This letter hereby… highest commendations of the church… special interest to the archbishop… look forward to your care…” She folded the letter, an imperceptible frown at the corners of her mouth. “A special allowance from the church? What’s that old rooster up to, Fi? And don’t lie to me, I’ve known you since you were in diapers and know when you’re lying.”

Fi laughed carelessly, shrugging. “If I can’t lie, then all I can do is say that it’s the private affairs of the church. We’re not looking for a backdoor, Ver, just the right to an exam. You know me: I wouldn’t be here unless it was something that mattered.”

“Then let me ask you, in your personal opinion—not as a Temple Knight, but as Fiona—should I let this kid take the exam?”

“In my personal opinion as Fiona?” She looked down at Vassago, giving a long, slow pause of thought as though seriously considering the matter, but then eventually gave him a small wink. “Although I haven’t known him well, my nose tells me that letting him go would be the biggest mistake the Union could make.”

“Your nose, huh… well, your nose has always been more reliable than your mouth, I’ll give you that. Fine.” Vera slapped a hand down on the counter. “I’ll allow the exam, but no special treatment. Rules are rules! He’ll still need to pass the exam on his own abilities, and he’ll need a sponsor!”

It had been a long time since Vassago was spoken about like this, like he wasn’t even in the room. To be invisible, ignored, unimportant… ahh, what bliss.

Vera turned to Vassago sharply, but as she stared down at his large black eyes and soft, round face, her expression immediately changed pace and turned kind and gentle. “Hey, kid. Do you know your letters? Do you need help filling out this form?”

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She held a slate board out to him, along with a piece of writing chalk.

“No… I mean, I don’t need help.” There hadn’t been a massive dialectical shift between when he left and when he returned, so he doubted written language would be a problem.

“Okay. Just read the words carefully and then fill it all out honestly. Honesty is important. Definitely don’t lie.”

“Yeah, got it.”

He took them both, immediately squatting down and using his knees to brace against. The form was in fact incredibly simple. It asked for a name, age, fiefdom of origin, and general skill set. Naturally, he immediately lied.

For age, he was at a loss. Demons aged differently even amongst themselves, let alone compared to humans. His own particular existence was a long lived one, yet suffered an unreliable stage of adolescence as a result. What did humans consider to be a “child”? They tended to have flash in the pan lifespans, but extremely short growth periods. Around two decades, more or less, wasn’t it? Then just halve it to ten. Ten years.

Fiefdom of origin? That was a little harder. He could name a few from this world, but he didn’t know if they were still around or if they’d been swallowed up by other border lords, but furthermore, he wasn’t supposed to be from around here. He looked up at Fi, gesturing to the entry.

“Baycliff. It’s the harbour district of Rosecrest, this capital city.” She murmured in a low voice, so only he could hear. “A lot of transients and immigrants settle there.”

He scribbled it down. For general skill set he wrote down “offensive magic” in order to keep it straightforward. The only thing left was the name, but… it occurred to him a while ago that he oughtn’t go with his real name. It didn’t matter how long he’d been gone. The name of the 800 year Demon King wouldn’t be forgotten. He sighed at his rotten infamy while he tried to think of a name. He needed something similar enough he’d respond to it naturally, so it wouldn’t be an obvious fake. Vassago… Vas… Vasso… it still felt too close. Perhaps… Sago? Yes, Sago. That would do. 

From this point forward, he was Sago.

He finished filling in the form, handing it over. Vera scrutinised it before telling them to wait for a moment before she walked toward the back desks, discussing things with another uniformed staff member. The exchange was brief, with gestures toward Fi and Sago, the feeling of argumentation, before the other staff member relented and got up, heading toward the back. Vera came back, motioning for them to follow her down the length of the counter until she came to the end, flipping open the access and stepping out.

She walked to the centre of the room, clapping her hands in order to draw attention.

“Sago of Baycliff is taking the special exam to join the Union. He’s in need of a sponsor should he pass. If any adventurers or guilds are interested, gather here by this time tomorrow for the exam.” She nodded, shooing everyone out of the hall with a regal wave of her arm. The gathered adventurers looked over at Sago, open judgement and doubt in their eyes. It had less to do with his size and age and more to do with the company he kept.

Then, they left. The gossip network of adventurers were second only to housewives, and they could be relied upon to spread word whether you wanted them to or not. A child taking the special exam wasn’t uncommon, but a child without a sponsor already nominating them was. Children from guild families often ended up sponsored into the Union at a young age in order to start formally helping out as choresmen, but usually a parent or older sibling would be the one to bring them in. To have a child walk in with a special allowance, but no sponsor, raised a lot of questions.

So people came. To gawk, more than to really consider him as a ward. Someone either didn’t believe in him enough to take care of him all the way to the end, which was dubious, or he had noble connections he was leaning on, which was complicated.

Twenty-four hours was a lot of time, yet also not much time at all. Moments up to the exam dragged on, and with each new body that surged into the Union Hall, the tension would raise a few notches. Yet with the scattered travel activity of an adventurer's life, as quickly as the spectators came, it still wasn’t enough time to gather even a third of everyone.

Sago was given a room at the Union Hall to stay overnight and time to prepare. The holding fee was paid by Fi, to be returned should he pass the exam regardless of sponsorship status. He didn’t particularly feel like he needed any time to prepare, but supposed he should at least act as though he needed it.

People didn’t take him seriously as a child. They largely ignored him, in fact. They didn’t treat him as a threat, nor as an object of reverence. It had been an accidental outcome of his transference, yet one that ended up appealing to his exact needs.

Pushing open the window of the small staff dorm room he had been given borrow for the night, he rested his chin on his hand and stared out over the city. The hall building was given an advantageous location in the middle city, midway between the craftsmen district and one of the outer gates. It was convenient both for adventurers returning with the bodies of subjugated prey and gathered resources, and for craftsmen seeking out fresh materials for their work. The grand and towering architecture befitting the head branch also gave a clear view of the middle city and all its winding streets.

It was all so alive. Quieter, in the night hours, but wholly asleep. Downstairs was thumping with the clamour of rowdy adventurers drinking away paychecks and swapping stories of valour. Out on the streets, public houses and bars opened their doors in order to open people's wallets, plying food, alcohol, and the drifting music of entertainment.

What had Apollyon been like? The only demon city, but more like a necropolis. Demons didn’t live there, not really. They just passed through. They would come and make a challenge for the throne, even though most didn’t even make it to the castle gates. There was something about the city that was eerie and suffocating even to his own kind. His own four most fervent followers didn’t even live in the city, instead ruling over large clans as mobile armies under their command. They would come when he called, which he rarely did, but never stayed. Only the king stayed.

The throne had always been a well disguised vice trap.

He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of life. Poor, rich, clean, corrupt. People celebrating, people scraping themselves to the bone just to get by. All of them alive, clustered together in lives that would intertwine and become, in time, an explosively colourful tapestry.

The Demon of Dusk didn’t sleep. So instead, he simply watched the world turn.

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