Courtship

by Kard

Summary:

In a time of peace and plenty boredom is a curse for the spoiled. Rachel daydreams about life on the outside, and new starry skies, unaware of the sacrifices once made for her kind. Demonkind and humankind have joined hands, to make a safer world, which makes exploration kind of redundant. Her foolish dream leads her into danger she would have never had to face, if she had chosen to love her charmed life.

Chapter 1: Year 1

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

A set of pink sandals stomped. The path ahead was long, and winding. Made of white sand and vines that were paler than bleached bones in a marble bucket. What should have been green had gone mostly grey. What pops of color remained were mere snatchings of dreary pastel and bloodless shades.

Noisy.

That had better stop after an hour or two.

I’m not leaving.

The lone set of sandals was brighter than the sun, which could not be seen through the web of trees.

I won’t listen.

The nosy warnings persisted. They remained the same. The same tone too. Non-threatening and non-confrontational. She was being bossed around for her own sake, not out of meanness.

She said a naughty curse word, but she did so quietly.

Hollow sounds echoed unevenly when a walking stick thumped against stone. Stray shards of jagged rock were poking out of the forest. It looked dead. It was such a grand lie. Even the roots were nearly colorless, but the monochrome wilderness was teeming with life. The bugs which crawled and pollinated looked like grains of sand.

“Make a left. Then you’ll see the gate.”

The well manicured main road was a ten minute walk away. The only long shadow was attached to a tiny girl. It stretched out in the wrong direction, out into the bush. When she brandished the stick her pose was supposed to look like an intimidating warning.

“You’re going towards a cliff. Turn back.”

It was like a whisper in her head. Quiet and helpful and nice, but invisible too. That made her nervous. So she felt the need to use her knobby stick again, to make her intentions clear. It wacked against a deadly sharp rock.

“Turn back!”

Another wack was the only response the voice got.

Arguing is pointless. I’m not bleeding, so they can’t force me.

Is there more than one? I can’t tell.

She waddled into a swaying pile of lavender-spotted bushes. The heavy burdens she carried made her slower than a turtle. A half-dead one. She started to sink into the leaf loam. Her skin began to itch, because the pinprick pastel flowers carried a harsh and stinging oil. She would feel it in the morning. A burn, on her ankles and legs.

I packed everything.

I can live out here forever, if I make it to each checkpoint in time.

I’ve even got cooling balm. I can fix this later, when I set up camp. I’m so smart.

Her curls were dirty.

Thinking such things without a pair of socks on, in the woods, is the very height of foolishness.

“Turn…”

She adjusted her backpack. It was too big for her, like an overgrown turtle shell. “Hah? Shut up!”

The voice did not interrupt her again. It took a break. Instead, it silently followed. Hoping she would come to her senses.

I’m intimidating. I’m one of the tallest girls in my class.

I think I look like an adult.

I can make it.

I have the right to my freedom.

Her freckled cheeks puffed out in anger. Her stick thumped against every hard, safe surface she could find. It was a full head taller than her, and it was cumbersome to walk with. It was the furthest thing from helpful, but she didn’t throw it away.

She thought it made her look cool.

The voice didn’t tell her to go back.

It did not dare.

That was annoying.

It sounds like another kid too.

He needs to mind his own business.

I’m allowed out here. I’m just not supposed to be alone, and I’m supposed to be on the path. That’s only two rules. I studied. I only have to go to the Gatherer safety class if I break three rules.

Her sandals kicked her warm skirt. She had already tripped over it twice. Shoe shaped markings had stained the burgundy fabric. Her stick was weighing her down. She had to drag it, with sweat dripping through her filthy blond bangs. More dirt was gathering on her, and a wool dress was an unwise choice for such a damp journey.

Every great adventurer has a walking stick and a bag of tricks. I’m highly prepared. I won’t run out of water for two days, because I have two bottles. I dried my berries myself. They’re kinda squishy but they look right. They won’t go black. They turned purple, and that means they’re edible.

I think.

I can make it to The Six, all on my own.

She hopped over a twisted root. The pale trees huddled in the hills were huge, and they were peeling. Strings of bark were floating above her head like birthday confetti. Spring had sprung. The shredded tree husks were trying to multiply even more, despite the lack of room inside the fertile ground.

It's pretty. That alone makes this worth the trip. The class tours don’t go very deep.

Dark pink sandals crushed ten hopeful white blooms.

I know about the cliff too. I’m not dumb. I read a map before I came out here. I can make it without getting caught by any other Regulars. They’re too scared to go this way, but I’m not.

This is just practice for me.

She stomped confidently. Her arms were swinging with vigor, or at least one of them was. Her right hand was fully weighed down by her stick. It was like she had a lame limb. She had disabled herself out of pride.

She even thought her bruises looked cool.

Her shoe slapped against water.

The girl in the puddle looked capable and adventurous.

She fixed her stubby, pointy ponytail. The ground was totally uneven. It was starting to get slippery, but she did not struggle. She wisely let her body slide. She didn’t fight the force pulling her in, because she wanted to go down. The danger signs were helping her. She hugged the trees, and she took much needed breaks inside nests of roots. The hills grew steeper, until the bony roots were more reliable than the ground.

Good thing I bought grippies.

She was wearing hikers grip sandals for strategic reasons. Her misguided logic had brought her to an expensive Gatherer shop, so the shoes on her exposed feet were technically proper travel gear. The gripping divets on the bottom of her cute sandals saved her life every minute.

It’s like I thought.

She licked her pointer finger, and she raised it up. The spit instantly turned tacky and icy.

It does get colder the lower you go. If I wasn’t in my skirt I’d be running away shivering. It’s so pretty in the summer. I like watching fog come up from the cliffs. Even when it’s really hot in summer steam rises up, but that pretty view comes from a change in temperature.

I want to see the giant icicles.

Pictures and books were not enough for her. The intrepid adventurer used her long stick to test the ground thoroughly. She figured out which roots were rotten. Which stones were loose. She used her smooth, beige stick to measure her jumps before she dared to do them.

Can I make it?

The tapered end of her walking stick reached out. The hill was turning into a true cliff. Thanks to her map knowledge she knew the deep ice zone bottomed out into a flat cave. One that ended right near The Six.

This is the hardest part. I’m a good climber, but going up is easier than going down.

She looked at her skinny wrists.

I should have done more muscle training.

Her stick pulled back. It wobbled. She was mostly certain she could make her next jump, right into a perilous ball of strong white roots. They weren’t even peeling, so she knew they were new and fresh. Bases for trees that were not yet ready to reproduce.

“Come on…” Her arms were starting to shake. The end of her walking stick was stuck on a slender grey vine. She couldn’t recognize the plant. It was wiry and tough. She could see thorns too.

Her classes did not discuss dangerous plants at length.

I’ve made it to the deepest part. The forest is starting to look different. Just a little further. I’ll see crystals made of ice soon.

Her feet started to shift. Her stick was very stuck. Her heels began to dig into the mossy cliff.

“You should really go back.”

The voice was much, much closer. Also, less grand. She could tell that it definitely belonged to someone around her age.

She yanked her resin-coated, durable stick. Another expensive find that had eaten into her allowance. Losing it on her first adventure would be a catastrophe. The pain in her arms was spreading, up into her chest.

It made her meaner.

Her mouth opened wide. “I told you to shut up!!!”

The echo of her rage traveled through the air. She was having trouble closing her mouth. Her screech had stretched her lips. Her body had bent awkwardly. Her stick was truly stuck now. She had accidentally pushed it further into the muddy layer.

I’m halfway there, at least. Turning back now would be more unsafe.

A host of pale birds jumped off the same branch together, a hundred steps above her. It set off a chain reaction. Soil, and the leaves atop of it, shivered as one. Her stick moved a patch of soggy ground too. A small sort of disaster was coming for her. A dark mudslide began to pile up on top of the sloped cliff side. It moved like river water. Slow up top and unforgivingly fast underneath. The forest was healthy. Thriving, and that meant it was bound to move. The little kick from her stick had set off a butterfly effect.

She did not let go, unaware of what was coming.

Sweat was bleeding into her left eye.

Her stick broke free of the muck with a wet pop. Light began to burn behind her eyes, fueled by joy. “Yes! Haha!”

She prepared her legs, because she was about to slide and jump. Her back bumped against something that didn’t feel like a dry, tough root. Two unknown, twiggy hands reached around her. She lost her grip. She tried to smack them away, but her stick had been stolen. Tossed aside heartlessly. It fell silently. She watched it go, and she did not hear it hit the ground.

How much further do I have to go?

Her head jerked back. “Hey! You’re not supposed to interfere….aaaahhhh!”

She fell backwards, with the strange body that she could not see. It had small hands, and sharp nails. There was a moment when she struggled. She tried to drag herself back into the root nest. The hands pulled her back, onto a rock, and then the mud rose up. The ground shifted, and her path downward vanished. It took minutes, but eventually all of the exposed root steps were gone.

I didn’t have enough time.

I wasn’t going to make it.

She was more disappointed than afraid.

Her legs felt wobbly.

The rock she had been rudely tossed onto was the lone safe zone, surrounded by death.

“Oh.”

“I told you to go back.”

She turned, to look for him. It was a male voice following her. She wanted to believe he was taunting her, so she could be angrier, but the mud was still running. Running, and rising. More roots were cracking, like eggs on a hot pan.

“Thank you, but this isn’t going to stop me.”

The voice was suddenly beside her. “Where are you going?”

She looked at him, and he wasn’t exactly what she expected.

Is he wearing tree bark? He’s also...skinny. I thought all of them were supposed to be fit and perfect.

The boy was in a white robe that barely qualified as clothes. His pale nails were too sharp, and his gold eyes had a glow just like hers. Most of him was wrapped in messy brown hair. She had to guess that he was very young though, based on his height.

“I’m trying to get to Six on my own.”

He pointed upwards desperately. “The road is that way!”

“I know!”

“You do?”

“I do, but I don’t want to go that way.”

He waved his arms some more, as if there was a language barrier between them. His meager clothes looked like the whitish tree bark she often saw, but he was too dusty to blend in properly. His hair was too dark too.

How did I not see him?

Is he a kid…or an adult shaped like one? If he was grown up he would have stopped me by now. Or threatened to send me to remedial classes.

She looked up, at the path coated in slimy mud. Then down, at the chasm. A frightened child would ask for the easy way out. A ride home maybe, but she had other goals.

She used a classic deflection tactic. Feigned interest. She pretended to be curious about him. “How long have you been out here?”

He fidgeted, like a bird in an unfinished nest. “…a while. This is a really safe spot. No one needs to be posted here. I’m here…because…”

It is a kid. He must be lonely. The adults don’t give a rat’s ass about the weak. Most of the time they leave their own children to die out of boredom, or disgust.

I’m alone, and that sucks, but I’d hate to be a Demon’s daughter.

She smiled sweetly. “I know why you’re here. People like to pick flowers in the spring. You’re doing a great thing for the littler kids. Your job is sooo important. Anyway, listen to me. I want to go on an adventure…”

“Then…can’t you go on the Flower Tour?” He interrupted like a yearly event would solve all of her problems and sate her curious heart.

Her lips pressed together hard. “The annual flower blooming stuff is boring, and I don’t want to be escorted. There’s always couples and old ladies. I’ve gone too many times. It’s the same path every time and…I want to be alone!”

He snorted, but it was a quiet sound. A kittenish meep. “That’s silly. Company is the best. You can walk to The Six. It would take until sundown, and the main road is less crowded, and you’d see most of the flowers…and…”

Her stick had injured her shoulder, but she wasn’t ready to give in. She fought the pain. “That’s not the point. I really want to get to The Six on my own.”

The boy, who wasn’t really a boy, gazed into the abyss with her. Unable to see her sadness. “You’re never alone…”

She rolled her eyes.

He could not break her, but her lips did flinch during his speech. “I knew you were coming when you stepped off the road. You would have died. You’re getting help right now. You can’t do it by yourself. Humans are all about teamwork. What’s wrong with you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “So naïve. We are not “all about teamwork”, ok? That’s a huge generalization. It’s rude. Are all Demons rude? Huh? How do you like it?”

He didn’t look insulted. He was couching next to her, comfortably. Unperturbed by the perilous cliff. Most importantly he was not dragging her back to the main road, so she had to keep the conversation going.

It looked like he was thinking.

He took the bait.

We’re talking.

I’m totally not distracting you so I don’t get reported.

“Why are you getting dirty on purpose?” He tapped her skirt. His nails rapped over one of many mucky stains.

How do I turn the conversation back to him?

She clumsily placed one of her hands on her hip. Her other arm burned when she moved it, so she tried to keep that half of her still. “I want to be an explorer. To go off the beaten path…like you…”

He was confused. “Do you mean a Gatherer? You have to sign up for more school for that, and you can’t break any rules. That’s a Demon job. You need to be extra good to get it over all the Demons. If…if you get caught now you’ll never be chosen. Let me take you back!”

When he offered his equally dirty hand to her dirty self she wanted to spit on it.

Her cheeks puffed up to the max. “EVERYTHING INTERESTING IS A DEMON JOB! There are some Regular Gatherers out there, but it’s not fair. Its impossible to pass all the tests unless you team up with Demons! I want to explore on my own. Me! Nobody else! I'm not a baby and I DON'T NEED TO BE WATCHED!”

The roots under her rattled.

“You would have died,” It was a soft reminder.

She blushed, aware that her resolve had not moved him at all. “I get it, and thank you again, but I just have to practice. I will get better, and when I’m all grown up I’ll go beyond where the patrols go. I’ll see everything. Even the ugly parts of the valley.”

The Demon boy had moved to the edge of the root bundle. His bare feet were dangling off it. “It’s not interesting. Sorry.”

She appreciated his honesty. He wasn’t looking at her, like he was scared she’d be disappointed by his honest truth. “It’s not…to you. To me it’s a whole world I haven’t seen. I’m going someday. You can’t stop me.”

Well, you can’t alone.

If I’m put under Watch my life is over.

Branches cracked together above them. The boy approached her. He looked sad, for her, which made her feel off.

Demons are supposed to be stoic on duty. I guess the kids aren’t like that. It’s weird.

He’s more like me.

He was too close to her. Her instincts thought he was going to push her off the edge, but he wouldn’t. His role was quite the opposite. “Have you told anyone about your dream?”

She blushed, knowing what he was getting at. “I’m fourteen, so I have to put a lid on it soon. I don’t want the neighbors to think I’m crazy. I’m telling you because…

Because I have no friends.

“…because I just had a near death experience and you helped me. Keep my secret and I’ll give you something.”

Her bag had survived the mud slide. She dangled it in front of his unimpressed, pale face.

It’s like he never leaves this place. When was the last time he saw the sun?

I can see the veins in his neck.

So gross.

He took her bag, and she yelped when he betrayed her. He tossed all of her valuables away, into the void.

He explained himself before she could yank his ridiculously long hair out. “The roots are cracking. That bag was weighing us down. Do I get to pick what I want from you? Can it be something I really want? Letting you go is breaking the rules.”

I’m not breaking any important rules, kiss-ass. Shouldn’t you be focusing on getting strong, so you can get out of here? Your life clearly sucks.

Her lower lip was bloody, because she had bitten it. Tension was taking over her. It broke inside her. “Are you going to report me? You little shit. I poured my heart out to you!”

His head cocked to the side.

“Why?”

I don’t know.

No one is impressed with my dream, but I keep telling everyone. Even though it always ends badly. I am very Human. Searching for a kindred soul. I even spilled my guts to a Demon, because I can’t find one.

“What do you want?”

His chin landed in both of his cupped, clawed hands. He rubbed his chin. It looked like he was choking himself. He forgot to blink too. She was used to Demons, but it was slightly more uncanny to watch him up close. She tried to be patient, because she didn’t want to take extra classes forever.

“I thought I wanted you to come visit me. It’s all I thought about. I’ve been waiting to become strong, so I can have a team. Teaming up with you, and making you come to patrol with me, would do that.”

I don’t want to get stuck with a bottom-of-the-chain patroller.

She was about to beg, but he wasn’t finished. “You want to see new things. That makes me think you have good ideas. Can you give me a name?”

Sheesh. He’s really low ranking. I know they’re not nice to their kids, but leaving the worst ones nameless is sad. What do they call them? Low potential? It’s Low something. They’re way nicer to us, inside the walls.

I do think it’s kind of unfair.

Why is it so hard for them to be nice to their kids too?

“I can. What kind of name do you want?”

He tugged on her arm. The wounded one. Her cheeks paled, but he was too excited to notice. “A unique one!”

The muscles in her arm were on fire. He didn’t release her. “I’ll…have to think about it. You can’t rush creativity.”

The pressure increased. It was half a hug. He was earnestly trying to show her how happy he was. She tried to remain calm. Snapping at him would break their perilous connection. He would soon realize that reporting her would get him closer to the team he wanted.

“I can’t wait!”

She had never felt such pain before. She was lost inside it. Unable to hear. Barely able to see. Half of her upper arm had gone purple, but she didn’t know that.

Her will persisted. “Well, you’ll have to be patient.”

He nodded five times in a row. “Should I let you go to The Six alone now? Can you slide down?”

She looked at the grey muck. “I can try.”

He looked less worried, because their trade had been sealed. She had what he wanted, inside her head. He was in her way, and it would have been so easy to take his hand.

The pain convinced her otherwise.

I’ve been planning this trip for months.

It’s my glorious first victory.

I can’t see the bottom, yet, but I can slide down slowly. I can take breaks. I’ll make it, even if it takes me three days and all of my knowledge. I know it takes three hours to walk to The Six, and this is stupid, but I have to.

How will I convince myself to go further, if I can’t do this?

He grabbed her burning arm. “What’s your name?”

“Rachel. Rachel Light. I have a Regular card. I just got my powers last year.” She hoped he wasn’t about to ask the next obvious question.

“What can you do?”

She hated him then.

“I glow.”

“…and?”

“You suck. Glowing is a great power to have, when you want to be an adventurer. I’m never in the dark. Humans cant see in the dark, you know. I have an advantage. I don’t need a Demon to get around.”

He didn’t argue. “It’s not…the worst…”

She turned away from him. Her legs pushed over the side of the rock, and she sat down.

“Whatever. You can watch, but don’t touch me if you want your name. This is our first day of being friends. Don’t ruin it.”

He stepped back. “I won’t!”

Her nails were gripping the rock too hard. They were short, and blunt. She had to pinch the skin on the end of her fingers, against the stony surface, to hold on. She didn’t have convenient claws. It added to the hurt, and she had to let go.

Her back touched mud.

“Ok…”

She left the safe rock, and the boy, behind.

“Bye.”

He said it back happily. “Bye!”

Her eyes, and her hair, began to glow. Lighting the way into complete blackness. She had to go further, to get through it.

I feel small.

These roots are thicker than me.

She slid down on her hip. It was like being on a slide. A very slow one. She avoided the thorns. Her skirt bunched when she got close to them. That was her only warning.

I can’t see the bottom.

Making it meant hours. Time she did not have. The pain in her arm had faded, and that was the song of her end. Her body had given up on warning her. She couldn’t feel properly, or flex those five fingers.

“…Uh-oh…”

She rolled. Her chin touched a thorn, and her legs twisted. All of her bunched up and she tumbled. She heard a thump, but she didn’t feel it.

“Did I make it?”

Her gleaming eyes saw ice. Mountains of it. Her glow turned them into priceless crystals.

Blood trickled down from her head, onto a sheet of natural glass. Her working hand searched for the wound. “No…”

She was about a quarter of the way there.

Chapter 2: Year 1 (II)

I’m awake.

Adrenaline helped her up. It was like she was floating. The scenery made her feel more lost than before. It was too dreamy. She questioned her eyes, and what little she could see within the soft glow.

Tall. I’ll have to take the long way to find my way through. I might even hit a couple dead ends before I get there.

Her sandals clicked, like she really was stepping on glass. The bugs and birds had left. The core of the valley was too cold and uncomfortable. They had much warmer nests to choose from.

It's sticky.

Her fingers were touching one of the icicle mounds. It looked like a frozen ant hill. Wide at the bottom and pointy up top. Light danced joyously inside the frozen towers. She mistook the flashes for bugs until she realized they were all coming from her.

Fog is coming out of my mouth.

She blew on her hands in wonderment. The air in her lungs took on shape. It wrapped around her arms like a fistful of smoky snakes. She blew until her jaw felt stiff.

The cut on her head felt wet, but she wasn’t afraid.

It was worth it.

I haven’t seen a really cold winter before.

Now I know what it’s like.

Her skin was starting to feel tighter, against her bones. The ice was leeching her energy away. The clear monoliths flashed different colors. She didn’t understand why, and the mystery made them even prettier.

“Ah!”

An animal had been preserved in the ice floe. The cold had crushed it. She could only see brown fur, and a tail.

Did it fall down here by accident?

I’m here on purpose.

She shook her head. Piles of ice turned light yellows, greens and blues within the field of her power. She didn’t see any more bodies. Only floating sticks and stones.

Too sticky. I have to stop touching them.

She wanted to lean, because she had a headache. Touching the ice with her cheek seemed like a stupid way to lose the flesh on her face, so she resisted.

Should I lie down?

The ground wasn’t slippery, but when she kicked the leaves away she found more ice. Perilous, skin-flaying ice that was dying for a piece of her weakened flesh. She hobbled carefully through the miniature mountains, and she used every muscle in her legs to stay upright.

What if the way out is frozen too?

Did I come during the wrong season? It's not like I understand the ecosystem down here. I just know there's ice on the map.

Her steamy breath was curling around her like real, stormy fog. Without her special eyes she would be fumbling in deadly darkness. Being able to see clearly anywhere made her more confident, but her size and strength level was another matter.

I brought gloves, but they were made of wool. I would have gotten stuck.

The sweat on her neck was freezing.

I can’t take a break until I’m out of here. If I fell asleep I would have woken up stuck to the ground.

She tried not to think about how painful that would be.

Calm down, Rachel.

Blood was running down her arm. It felt sticky too.

He’s not coming. Is he making an exception? Any sign of blood usually means you get accosted by about three patrollers. Fussing over you. Taking you home. You don’t get a choice if it’s a serious injury.

Being injured and alone was another new experience for her. She wasn’t entirely sure if she liked it. When she swallowed her spit felt sticky in her throat.

That scared her even more.

Her quickened heartbeat melted some of the cold inside her. A frantic burst of energy pushed her forward, like the cold was a beast she could run from.

“There you are!”

A shadow waved at her.

She knew it was him, but her knees knocked together.

I look like a mess, and we’ve only been separated for a couple hours.

I’m such a loser.

“I told you to stay away.”

He wasn’t sliding, and walking on the ice looked effortless for him. He also wasn’t wearing shoes.

If I had the body of a Demon I’d be in the most remote place known to man, seeing sights meant for few. I’ve always wondered. Why did they join up with us?

Don’t they feel the call of the wild?

I sure do.

She jerked away from him, unable to face him without crying.

“Rachel! Wait! I have to take you home…”

She started running, but it barely counted as a jog. The ice was holding her down like a particularly cruel mouse trap. She couldn’t outrun a lame horse at her pace.

She saw four reflections of her Demon friend.

They were regretful and pitiful. Indulgent and patient. She was being watched over by a benevolent force, like always.

“I want my name, but I can’t let you die out here. Can’t you see? It's me, not a Monster. I know you can see me, but you’re turning blue. Take my hand.”

Her feet slipped. She stayed upright at a cost. Her good shoulder knocked against an ice wall to keep her legs standing. “I worked so hard to get down here. I need a minute.”

How far am I?

The ice part of the map was a blue dot. It looked like a lake. It was long, but thin. I was aiming for the thinnest part. How am I so lost?

I should be able to see the other side.

It was thinner than the tip of my pencil.

Tears were falling from her eyes, unbidden. She was losing control of her body. Her eyes were fighting the soul-sucking cold. The winter air wanted to dry her eyeballs into jerky.

“Rachel?” He sounded so affectionate, and familiar. Like a true friend. The companion she had been waiting for, but he was against her.

I…I have to get away from him.

Irrational desire took over her. She used an ice pillar as a springboard, and she jumped down. She aimed for the darkest, chilliest hole available.

“Ack!”

Then, she was encased in ice. Surrounded at all sides by walls of it.

“Huff…”

The ice burned her. It was so cold that it turned her senses upside down. She landed on her knees, and she hid from him. She shoved her head between her knees like a windstorm drill was in progress.

More blood dripped down.

Her skin could take no more.

The parts of her hands that had used the ice to climb were peeling. Her skin was blackening around the wounds.

She turned off her light, in a futile attempt to stay out of sight.

“Are you playing hide and seek? I’m not. I’m serious,” He sounded conflicted. Like he did want to play, but she had chosen the wrong time.

“Hello?”

That was him, not her.

Her lips were turning blue.

Why am I being stubborn?

I won’t make it.

I don’t want the other Demons on patrol to see us.

I’ll get in trouble, and then this is it. One crappy adventure before I’m marked as a freak.

“I can see you.”

I know that.

“Sneak me in, and you can have your name.”

His eyes looked like fertile spring dirt before a planting. “You promise?”

Her ankles were touching the ice. She had to give up, but not forever. She needed to bargain.

“I promise, and I’ll think about what to name you for months if I have to. Your family abandoned you. You might never get chosen by a team. This might be your only chance to get one. I want to get back in unseen just as bad as you want this name. I’ll even come visit you, like you originally wanted. Sneak me in, and you won’t have to wait to be chosen anymore.”

He reached inside the crevice, with both hands. His nails hooked under her armpits. “Deal.”

She swatted him. “If we get spotted the deal is off.”

He nodded sternly. His wiry hair bobbed when he did it. “Going up might hurt. I’ll have to crawl over the wall. Do you think you’ll throw up?”

She held onto her dream with all of her might. “It doesn’t matter. If that’s the only way in do it.”

He grabbed her funny. It was like she was being rolled into a ball. The friendly Demon wasn’t very tall, so he had to fold her to carry her. She felt a twinge in her back, but she didn’t complain.

I’m…kneeling on his arm?

Demons are too strong. It’s a joke. I know some Regulars who can punch through walls. Why didn’t I get that?

My light is a consolation prize.

He tucked her head under his chin, and she felt the rush. She was a projectile in a catapult. A drop of rain. He escaped from the ice within three jumps. It took four for her to feel warmth again.

“No more jumping for now. I’ll give you a break.”

Her head needed it. Her wounds were all dry. She wasn’t in need of immediate medical attention, but he didn’t want to push it. Getting over the wall would affect her body too.

Demons learn about our limits in classes. Hopefully he doesn’t squish me.

He walked, at a leisurely pace. “If I run too much I might get noticed.”

“Go as slow as you need to. It’s not like I have a job yet. If I'm not ready in the morning no one will care.”

He sounded chipper. “That’s amazing! How often will you be visiting?”

I accidentally stepped into a bear trap. I should have said I lead a busy life.

“Maybe once a week. Everybody my age gets introduced to all of the trades, so we can pick something fulfilling. If I don’t go to those classes because of you I’ll get in trouble.”

He went a little faster. His woven bark clothes were itchy on her. “Once a week.”

“Once a week,” She had to be firm.

When she looked up her heart clenched.

He looks way too happy.

I thought he’d be greedy, and ask for more.

She rolled her eyes when he started whistling. He reminded her of the dogs the butchers kept. The loyal creatures ate their treats barking with joy. Blissfully unaware of the fact that their lush meals were inedible leftovers their masters did not want. Food so egregious that their lofty stomachs could not even digest such trash. Those dogs ate trash and defended the doors with their lives. She marveled at creatures who were easy to please, because her own wants were so hard to control.

He's very simple.

His steady pace ate through the daylight that was left. Night had fallen by the time the cobblestone wall came into sight.

“We’re here.”

I can see that.

“Thanks, but getting over is the challenging part.”

He puffed out his chest. “It’s not for me!”

“I meant me.”

“Oh…of course. I will be careful.”

He balanced her on one arm. Her back felt too free. She hated it. She wanted to be back under his chin. She wished he was just a little bigger. Her nerve gave out when he was a step off the ground.

“Can…can I hug your back please?! You can wear me like I’m a backpack. I’ll hold on. I’ll feel safer that way.”

He didn’t blink. His eyes were lighter. More golden. The only power she had was a natural bodily function to him.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. If your arms give out your neck will snap before I can catch you. You’re perfectly safe in my arms.”

She flushed pale. “Arm. You’re using the other one to climb.”

He didn’t relent. “That’s true, but it’s still safer than both of your arms. Rachel, I’m not going to force you. You’ve been such a good friend…”

When?

“…Just say the word and we can walk over to the gate together. Tell them you’re obsessed with flowers, and you fell.”

She hugged his neck. “The truth will get me in trouble. I didn’t tell you but…the instructors are already suspicious of me. I maybe skipped a class or two to plan my trip.”

He blinked once. “That was dumb. You’ve been marked as lazy.”

She flinched. “Thanks for the reminder. You’re still holding me, and I haven’t fallen. I guess we can keep going. I’ll trust you. Just….don’t let me look down.”

His head cocked to the side, perplexed. “Why not? It’s a beautiful view.”

“Really?” Her teary eyes didn’t get any pity from him, because he was following her wishes exactly. For all he knew her tears were just another bodily function during cold snaps.

His claws hooked into ledges, and when he found none in the cobblestone he made more. His nails punched through, making nail-sized grips. He made exactly zero risky jumps, because he was carrying fragile cargo.

The wind began to whip.

She hugged him harder, and she noticed how soft his hair was. “You should brush this. It’ll look beautiful.”

He paused to look at her. “Stop buttering me up. What else do you want from me?”

There was no accusation in his question, and that made her feel guilty.

Humans and Demons make deals, and usually it’s the Human that needs a favor. It’s natural, but it’s like he saw through me.

Does he know he’s only my “friend” because I need him?

She looked out at the stars. Her head was level with them. They were close enough to touch. Her brain was eagerly soaking in all of her new experiences, but she still wanted more. She dreamed of seeing starry skies beyond the valley, and their myriad colors. Even with such beauty before her she did not take more than a moment to appreciate it. Her familiar violet sky was a curse, because the maps told her there were more. More that were just as striking and worthy of her love.

“I wasn’t lying. You should see my hair when I don’t brush it. I look a hundred times better when I do it.”

He didn’t press her about her desires again. She relaxed, and she looked down. He was climbing slowly, as if she was precious. It made her feel safe enough to look around. The forest has turned into a miniature for children, and she could see the gate from above. She could sit on one of the bolts holding it together if she wanted to.

She sighed.

“I thought you said don’t look down.”

She explained. “I’m not afraid. I like it.”

“Your heart is beating faster,” His doubt was understandable. She could feel it too.

Her hands gripped his shirt. “I think I want to learn how to climb rock walls.”

“That’s impossible.” He wasn’t sure if she was joking, so he told the harsh truth.

He smacked the back of his brown head. “It’s not. Humans just haven’t figured out how to do it yet.”

He pushed her over the top of the wall. There was enough room for her to stand up and look down.

“You’re silly.”

She patted his head. “I have faith.”

“In what?”

I don’t know.

“In…the Human spirit!”

He side-eyed her. “Are you a heretic?”

“I am not! Don’t say that! I like living here, but it gets lonely for me too. I feel the way you feel, even though I have so many neighbors.” She debated dangling her legs over the edge, but she knew he wouldn’t approve.

She appreciated the moon instead.

He looked out beyond the wall with her. “There is no God.”

She half-jokingly punched his arm. “I don’t believe in any gods, and I won’t be causing any discord or division in my community anytime soon. I don’t hate my neighbors. I just resent then a tiny bit. I wish they liked what I like.”

He stuck down her hope. “I don’t like what you like, and I can do it. You should change.”

“Very inspirational. Thanks so much,” Her sarcasm was lost on him.

He got up. “If your head is clear we should go down now. There are no major threats in the area. I don’t think the gate guards will notice us at all, unless you scream.”

She turned away from the titillating view, back towards the one she was used to.

“I won’t scream,” That was assuring for him. Her smile helped too.

He grabbed her gently, but going down proved to be more stressful than up. Gone were the beautiful stars, and even the sky. Houses, shops, and mills began to loom over her. She almost instinctively turned on her light. A beacon that would alert every patroller within ten leagues. She remembered that she didn’t need her light at the last second.

He noticed her tense shoulders, but he didn’t berate her. He didn’t think she was that stupid.

She was almost flattered.

Think, Rachel. Think. He’ll be beaten to a pulp if he’s found with you. You’re a precious young Regular covered in blood and frost burns. He got tossed into a worry-about-it-later hole without any kind of company. He’s the one that will get into real trouble.

So what if you’re scared of the dark?

Think of his safety.

“Why are you shivering?”

“No reason.”

“You didn’t develop hypothermic symptoms down there. I didn’t let it happen. What’s going on?”

She was rotten cherry red. “Nothing!”

Her pulse had moved up to her neck. The stars were gone. His gold eyes were the one source of light she had. She stared into them like he was a hot drink in the middle of a snowstorm.

“Quit it.”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re staring at me, and you’re being loud. If the patrols are being run by someone responsible tonight one Demon has been dispatched.”

She hugged him even tighter. “Are you certain?”

“I am. I memorized all the rules, because I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

She wanted to cry for him, and also her phobia was taking over. Her feet were about to touch the ground. Her legs started to kick.

“Drop me.”

He did it when it was safe. She didn’t feel a shred of pain, but her sandals slapped loudly.

“Where is your home?”

She led the way. “I’m in a group home for middle-aged kids. Some of them are light sleepers, but they sneak out all the time too. Some of the girls are getting married as soon as they’re of age. They’re breaking more rules than me. I won’t get reported unless I show up with you bloody.I have the perfect excuse lined up, and I'll be squeaky clean before I go back in.”

Her legs were like rusty metal. The muscles in them kept jumping. Being carried had left her with some extra bruises.

“What’s the excuse?”

“The bath house! We get our own. The public ones are mostly for adults. Kids have to wash up after training, so we get certain privileges. The water gets a blast of fire from a Demon every sunset, so the girls can use it anytime. I’ll clean my wounds and I’ll tell my roommates I had a spa night.”

His lips turned down in a comical frown. “I’m so jealous. I would love your life. Roommates? Hot water? Wow.”

She giggled. “We should switch lives then.”

He didn’t laugh with her, because Demons aren’t known for strong emotions.

He gave her a small smile. “Are we close?”

The coal black streets were making her nervous. “Not really.”

“The patroller is about to catch up to us.”

“What?!”

“You have to hide. I’ll tell you when to come out.”

He shoved her behind a bakery stand that had been wrapped up for the night.

She crouched, useless and afraid.

If I was as fast as him I’d be home by now. I’m why we got caught. Is he going to lie to the other Demon? He doesn’t even have a name. I don’t see unnamed Demons inside the wall. I haven’t even seen one before. His shitty clothes are a dead giveaway. He doesn’t belong.

The stress turned her into a shuddering ball. Her eyes were too dry to cry. She peeked around the corner at least ten times, but she didn’t see him or the other Demon.

Should I give myself up? Say it’s all my fault? It really is. He didn’t do anything wrong.

She stood up, in the empty street. She was the only one out after hours. Her transgression was clear as day. Any patroller with eyes would be able to see her.

“Rachel. Where do we go next?”

He was walking back towards her, like nothing was wrong and he had never left. “W…what?”

He touched her numb cheek. “Where is your home? Your wounds will not heal properly if you don’t get some salve soon.”

She looked back, and forth.

He wasn’t being followed by anything she could see.

“Ok. Did the patroller get lazy?”

That’s actually kind of worrying. Monsters do try to get in here constantly.

He grabbed her hand. “Take me to your house.”

She understood that there was no time for chit-chat. “Yes. I know this street. I know all of them. I take walks every day, and Seven is one of the smaller Enclaves.”

He nudged her onward.

She jogged, aware that they would not get so lucky again.

The group homes were protected by a short gate that did not stop various boyfriends and bad influences from getting in.

Rachel vaulted over it with ease. Her companion did it in a jump.

She hushed him, even though he was being very quiet. “It’s in the back, and these buildings are never fully asleep. Somebody is always reading, or gossiping or making out. Me being out isn’t going to scare anyone.”

His nose twitched.

We do it all year round. They should have taught you that in your class.

She tugged his arm. They did pass an amorous couple, who did not notice or care about them. The bath house was made of slabs of white stone. It was also a modest size. Meant to service one hundred and fifty girls from six wooden log houses. The door was small. Made of light wood. Getting in was a quiet process that casted few shadows.

It's early enough.

We’re alone.

The square room was full of warm steam. She plucked a bar of oily soap off the wall. The first aid kit had enough salve for all of her scrapes. The bruises would need time, but she expected that.

I'm ten different shades of purple. It's safe to say my first attempt failed.

He was in her shadow.

Why is he so jumpy?

His eyes turned shinier than polished coins.

Does that mean he's happy?

She snapped off her sandals with a pleased, pleasurable groan. “Do you want a bath too?”

He gaped at her in grateful awe, and he nodded.

“Please.”

Chapter 3: Year Two

I shouldn’t be skipping.

If I want to be a Gatherer I have to follow through.

She braided her hair, even though she barely had enough to shape the style. It made her look even more like a schoolgirl. The shadows made by the high sun could not protect her, because she was too predictable. She often blended in with the maids, with a hood on, to avoid her responsibilities.

A knowing group of eyes sneered at her crouched form.

It was too hot for the maid act now. Her burgundy apron was a dead giveaway too, but her many roommates had to worry about their own futures. They did not verbally make fun of her, because the forces in charge did not approve of such classlessness.

No one is going to reach out to me. It’s a competitive world out there, beyond the gates that are just for young girls. I’m skating by. All my instructors say so, before a host of Demons spirits them away to the next Enclave for more teaching.

She knew her internal monologue sounded insanely selfish. She did, absolutely, keep her ideas to herself. They never got a good reaction.

I think I’d learn more if I actually liked my instructors. They never stay long enough for that. I understand that lots of growing young minds need the best experts, but it’s so strange to constantly take orders from strangers.

A fly was buzzing in her ear.

Should I be a teacher? I’d get to travel, but it would be under heavy supervision. That’s the opposite of what I want.

Being an adult is about compromise. If I didn’t live here I wouldn’t have the luxury to think about traveling. I’d be farming. Fighting off winter…and Monsters too. It’s such an annoying thing to grapple with. Logic. I know all about compromise, and why it makes sense.

I just don’t want to.

I don’t wanna do it.

Laugher roared when a set of pinker skirts passed by her leafy hiding spot. Even the younger girls could not contain their disdain for her.

I’ll be red soon.

Her heart felt cold, like she was lying on ice again. The memory of her failure stung.

She groaned out loud.

Why am I such a flake?

I can’t seem to finish what I start. It’s so hard to get motivated when fog covers the sky nine out of twelve months a year. I want to go higher, but its safe in the valley. I’d settle for going lower, but I’m not allowed to do that either. This is the perfect elevation for building and sanitation, according to the architecture instructors. All three that I’ve had said the same. Our pipes are able to point down, into swamps that flourish more abundantly thanks to our waste. It’s a contained and beneficial rot. Diseases from dead bodies don’t rip through us, because they can be sent away. It’s not like magic. It’s better than magic.

It's harmonious.

Her legs were itchy. The bugs weren’t being kind today. The garden had recently been fertilized with bone. She had chosen to hide and laze about at the most awful time. Wet soil had stained the entire back of her skirt.

The seamstress on call hated her.

Would I want to be a savvy lone wolf if I was born one? Or would I be like all the New Residents? Crying with joy at the sight of hot water. Enamored by the power to make my own shoes and metal knives.

I don’t want to make fun of them. I’m happy for them, but I don’t think wanting to see the world makes me dumb.

She leaned on some very safe and strong iron bars. Her hiding place was a grove of yarrow plants and protective bushes that repelled thieving rodents. She used the medical crop as a base because less people passed by, due to the minty smell and the general gloom. Most of the girls loved the light, cute, sweet drink stands out front. The main gate was always the most busy. Bustling with boys meeting with or sucking up to the smarter girls, who were so eager to graduate.

She could still hear them, from her faraway and poisonous garden.

I haven’t been kissed, and my most likely career path is seamstress. It’s getting harder to stand up in the morning. I’m jealous, but I’m scared of change too. If I give up on what I’ve wanted ever since I first saw the sky who am I?

Most of the medical plants she was sitting on were deadly if they were not mixed right. She often dreamed about creating a sleeping potion. One that would pronounce her dead. Dead enough to fool the Demons, so they would dump her in a faraway canyon, because dead bodies are unhealthy for living humans to be around.

I’d be found and brought back. I’m a Regular. People do know who I am and what I look like. I would also have to trudge through the swamps. I could get a disease. I could die. I’d rot before I saw any of the amazing sights I cry about.

She was starting to become aware of how wet the soil was.

“Shit…”

White skirts were coming to prune and water, because it was dry. She scooted to the side, behind a shed.

“Rachel?”

She recognized the voice, but she wasn’t happy about being found. “What are you doing here? Baam! I told you to wait out front for me when you want to talk.”

His friendship made her look more normal, so she liked to chat with her Demon confidant while the other children socialized in their groups.

He's the only damn reason I’m not under Watch at this point.

I should be nicer to him.

He looked annoyed. “I was waiting out front. You didn’t come, and you haven’t been out all week. Are you studying medicine on your own?”

He has so much faith in me.

It hurts.

“I am in this garden because I needed a break from the crowd. I have eight roommates, Baam. Eight. You like company, but think about it. That’s too many.”

His eyes crinkled when he smiled. He still had a round and harmless face. “I like to sleep alone when I’m injured, but that’s the only time. You need to lighten up, Rachel.”

Her eyes gleamed when she glared at him.

He gave her a minute to be mad. She was allowed to be, because he liked to piss her off on purpose.

His hair was gone. It had been cropped short, and it only retained a little fluff on top. His raggedy bark robes had vanished long ago. He had upgraded to unflattering beige patrol uniform pants, and a burgundy jacket. He was still underaged, like her.

He's shorter than me. I can get him.

I’m going to ruin his stupid hair. I know he’s been trying to brush it flat.

She knew Demons aged funny, but he had been identified as a child. It made sense to her. He was softer than the other Demons on patrol, who did not put up with her nonsense.

He did.

When she got caught out after hours she always hoped it was Baam behind her.

He didn’t get picked by a Team, but he fought a patroller to get a job. Demons have their own problems, but their basic pecking order is so convenient. Beat up a guy. Boom. You get a job. Beat up a bigger guy? Wow! Now everybody likes you!

Being human is so much harder. Different Regular powers, traditions…and faces.

She reached through the bars to mess up his hair.

He let her do it, because he had a plan. “Ah, I’m a mess! Can I have a bath?”

Her socks were brown. It was too hot. The heat and stickiness had made her an easy mark.

“You tricked me.”

“Why would I do that? I came down to spend the whole afternoon with you.”

She didn’t fall for it.

His intentions were not pure.

Her lips trembled with mirth. “You don’t have enough money for D&D, do you?”

He did not blink. “I haven’t for a week.”

She looked down on him literally and metaphorically. “You’re poor.”

He jumped onto the fence. “I have to compete for a room every night, and there are never enough. Some Team or Ranker will come in and then it’s over, and I have to sleep in the woods.”

She chuckled. “That’s where most of the patrollers sleep.”

His hands gripped the metal. He looked like a stray cat. “Can I use the bath or not?”

Her shrug was sort of a yes. “I need to wipe off too. Come on.”

He followed her in. Nobody batted an eyelash. They passed by no less than four signs that claimed no males were allowed inside the gates. Even the extremely young and pink girls parted for him, and her. His uniform was incredibly easy to recognize. Seeing the black vest, and beige pant, ensemble was part of everyday life.

He had a free pass to go anywhere.

She heard another kind of buzz.

“Why is such a well-behaved…with a no-good…”

She walked faster.

The new instructors don’t like me.

They don't even like my relationship with him. Befriending a Demon can be highly lucrative, if the Demon is on the naive side.

Baam looks the part.

Baam jogged with her. Calling his name had gotten easier. She had chosen it under extreme duress. The whole dramatic scenario gave her nightmares, occasionally.

“Do you remember when I named you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you hate it?”

“I love it.”

She turned back to angrily pinch his cheek. “Don’t lie to me! You beat up that patroller. The rest of them caught us in this very bathhouse…”

Her hands waved at the door.

“…and I named you after the loneliest twenty five years of your life.”

He touched her back. “I’ll grow up soon, and I’ll enjoy the rest of them thanks to you. I didn’t know I had it in me. I wanted to help you get home no matter what.”

She untied her apron. “You’re an inspiration. From nameless to the Dawn Patrol. Just…um…don’t tell your cohort how you got your name.”

He left his vest on a hook. “I won’t. It’s a very personal story. I don’t want my friends to think I’m bragging too much. I didn’t get my name by passing a brutal test. It was whispered to me by someone who cares about me.”

She got in the water, in her shrift. “As long as you don't tell you can think what you want. I made up your name because I didn't want your head to get ripped off. They're incredibly uptight about security for the girls here. I should have known...agh! Watch out. It’s extremely hot today. There’s a new fire Demon. Very hot-headed. I’m turning red already…”

Her accidental choice of words made her stomach twist.

I’m really not looking forward to growing up.

Baam rubbed her shoulders. He was kneeling behind her. “You rushed it, but the feeling behind a naming is what counts. It stuck, and they didn’t kick me back into the hole. My victory was declared valid, and I’ve been living my best years ever since.”

She sank into the water halfway. He kept stubbornly rubbing her tense shoulders. “I feel guilty sometimes. Did the Demon you beat have to…go to that hole?”

I don’t know all the details, but being a weak Demon is not ideal. Being caught by a tiny thing like Baam must equal a big demotion.

His thumbs dug into her muscles, in a good way. “He did lose. You shouldn’t worry about it.”

If he’s a softie how harsh are the other Demons?

The steam was too intense. She fanned her face. “You get in too. Don’t kiss my ass so much. We’re supposed to be friends, and you’re not like the other boys. I know you like me. You don’t have to prove it. You don’t have to hold my hand…and such.”

When he hopped in he splashed her. She looked at the sprawling mountain mosaic, painted on the bath house ceiling.

It often tormented her, in her frequent nightmares.

“I think friends should be affectionate and open with one another,” He said it like it was a philosophy to live by.

You think that way because you don’t have love. Close friends can be fulfilling, but it makes boundaries a problem. For Humans and Demons it’s a point of friction. Demon friends tend to barge in when their Human friends want some alone time with their wives. It’s a cultural rift that forces the Human to demand some goddamn privacy.

He thought he had won her over, with his declaration of platonic love. His head was on her shoulder.

It’s inspiring to know that Teams fight and die for each other out there. Making a friend is like winning a prize for a Demon, but I think he’ll get a Team soon. He’ll naturally start spending more of his days with them. I’ll see him off like a father at the altar.

She pushed him off.

He gurgled under the water, shocked. Appalled that she wasn’t returning his affectionate gesture.

Human Regulars get visits. They don’t get to go off gallivanting with their Demon friends. Occasional visits, and traveling together, are so vastly different. It’s like the bond of men at war, verses the bond with your next door neighbor.

She pushed his head back underwater when he tried to rise.

I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment. He beat a patrol guard, on the Dawn Patrol no less, before adulthood. I don’t want to miss him too much.

His pupils had narrowed into silts, under the clear water. Her pupils were the same shape no matter what. Her infusion had changed them. It baffled her that he looked more Human than her, when he wanted to.

He poked her arm, still submerged from the head down.

She didn’t let him come up. “Stop touching me, or you can drown.”

He wouldn’t. He could hold his breath for hours, but she was bugging him.

He floated away like a limp corpse. She left him to sulk. Her shrift was floating around her like the ghost of her regrets.

“Do you think I should become a seamstress?”

“What do you want to do?”

She looked back to find his gold eyes soft again. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve got two years. Three, if you apply for a lap year. You’ll figure it out.” He sounded unconcerned. It was as if he could see her certain future. One where she was smiling too, just as hard as him.

His encouragement made her feel worse. “I don’t want to be a seamstress. I learned practical skills because I thought I’d be on the road on my own by now. Maybe not right now, but my deadline was supposed to be age sixteen.”

Baam didn’t come closer. “Why?”

The water lifted her up. She floated, with her head resting on the hard rock side. It was the closest she could get to banging her skull against the wall without being carted away. “I’m afraid I’ll give up if I wait until I’m an adult. There are other schools. Other kids growing up like me. Just with parents instead of roommates. I have so many choices, and they’re all pretty good. I’ll eventually make friends. I’ll enjoy having my own home, with no roommates. What if I fall in love with it, instead of my original dream?”

His chin touched the lip. He leaned on it with her. “So you’re happy either way, and I’m supposed to be worried about you for some reason. Sounds pointless. I'm not."

Her eyes closed. “It sounds silly to you. That’s what I expected. You walk the same Dawn Patrol path daily, with no breaks, and you whistle while you do it. I’m not like you.”

He felt the insult in there, and he whispered a grim reminder. “I’m not supposed to be. You can’t make me cry with that. No part of me is missing. The part of you that wants the stars is…primal. You think you need to forage, when the Gatherers do that for you. You can choose from many paths in life now. Not just the few that open in the wild. That’s what the Enclaves are all about. Survival is not your first priority, and I get to enjoy hot water without any infighting.”

That made her uncomfortable.

Infighting.

He hasn’t dared to bring that up before. He’s a really gentle guy. He fits right in. Like a puzzle piece. Other girls wave at him, because he's friendly. He belongs…and I feel like I don’t.

Is he like me? Am I a Human who wishes I was more like a Demon? Would he give up his power to become part of an Enclave?

She started slow. “…would you do it?”

His feet kicked next to her. He was swimming. Possibly out of boredom.

She wasn’t being very fun today.

“Do what?”

“You know…killing. You can’t own a house, or even a room. The rules are really strict for your people. If your group gets too large…I can’t imagine you would start killing your friends.”

If he’s a secret Demon pacifist maybe he’ll help me sneak out someday.

He was thinking. She thought he was mulling over the truth. Scared to show his soft underbelly to anyone that could out him to his superiors.

“Rachel, what do you do when someone you don’t like becomes your roommate?”

She accepted that he wasn’t ready to share. He needed to be convinced, so she tried to sound confident. “I’d go outside for walks more, clear my head, and eat in the library.”

He used some soap on his face. “What if they decided to follow you around?”

She answered quickly. “I’d alert an instructor.”

“What if there is no authority figure that can help? You have to let this person join, and be around you all day forever, or you can get rid of them.”

Her cheeks puffed up. “That’s outlandish. There’s more than enough room in the group home for the both of us. The person I dislike can go somewhere else.”

Baam had a comeback. “What if there is no room? That person is strong enough to follow you around. They don’t need to sleep, or rest, unless they’re hurt or dirty. They inconvenience the people you do like whenever they can, and they tell everyone you do like them. All because you’re letting them get away with it.”

She rubbed her eyes. Her face was way too hot. “I think I need to get out.”

He followed her until they reached the drying room. He had to dry off by himself, because only girls were allowed to be naked inside. She took off her shrift, and warm winds soothed her skin. When it was done she felt softer. More supple. She was immaculate, but her hair needed help. She pulled a comb out of her dress pocket, and she got to work.

I can’t say I understand, but maybe power works against Demons when they try to make friends. Too many strong opinions. Too many supernaturally strong bodies in one small space. You have to get along, or else.

That’s bleak.

Humans and Demons really are better together. We have all the food we can eat, and they have a place to relax. There’s no need to worry about competing when Humankind can create any kind of good, or service, for them.

Her chest tightened. Baam was awkwardly drying off with a bunch of face towels somewhere behind her. She knew he was almost done.

He was calling her name.

Her throat closed. “Huh?”

“What’s wrong with your heartbeat, Rachel?” The hand on her shoulder made her shy away. He noticed her reaction immediately. She was used to him. He was touchy. It was natural.

Her sudden fear made his eyes shake.

“What did I do?”

She raised both of her hands. “Y…you didn’t! Nonono! I was thinking too hard, like I always do. I was wondering and then I thought…what happens when a Demon wants to be friends with a Human that isn’t interested in them?”

The sun had not given up.

It was stronger than ever.

Baam pointed at his chest, with his thumb. “Me. I’d come with the rest of the patrol to give them a warning. Humans have the right to say no, and we’re here to enforce that for you.”

That’s a lie, mostly.

When it comes to friendship, yes…of course. The Dawn and Dusk Patrol are there to make sure the Regulars are comfortable. I said friendship. I didn’t mention Anlace.

She opened her lips to ask, but then they closed.

That deal was stuck before I was born, and I doubt he’ll ever participate.

His arm locked around hers. He was walking her towards the honey tea cart. It was a familiar path. “I thought you’d like me more than you do, because you don’t have parents, but I don’t want to force you. You’re my friend, and you’ve done so much for me. I would have been down there for another twenty five years before I found a Demon on my level to challenge. I didn’t want to take any risks, but then I did and I’m ten times happier. Drinks are on me. Don’t worry about how different we are, when I’m right here. I won’t change.”

She did lean on his shoulder briefly, when there weren’t too many eyes around. “Alright, I’ll let you treat me. You’re not supposed to talk about parents like that, by the way. Humans usually think of their parents fondly. You were supposed to ask me where I’m originally from, because there are countless human cultures out there.”

They joined the crowd at the main gate. The smell of tea was soothing, and popular. They joined a lengthy line, with some of her roommates, who were not on speaking terms with her.

“Where were you born?”

That’s a good one. Humans love to talk about their birthplace. Me included.

“I’m from the Eternal Cloud…”

“…Enclave Ten…”

“…stop being such a snot. As I was saying I am from the lowest and furthest east Enclave. Affectionately and locally known as the Eternal Cloud. There’s no sky there. It snows almost all year round. There’s no group homes for orphans, and no doctors. The people there have to travel out of necessity to get medical care. It’s an abnormal Enclave, but it had to be built. There are some people who burn in the sun. They like to eat salty sea creatures and weeds. That’s their ideal environment. You Demons had no option left but to accommodate them, because they kept getting sick up here where it’s warm. I’m healthy, because I arrived in Seven when I was about three. I tanned really well. Stayed out during the warm months the way the doctor told me. I acclimated. My father died of an allergy attack, and no instructor can combat that disease. We only recently learned it’s a Human problem. Not some sort of curse.”

Baam played along. Teams were above family to him. Multi-generational Teams weren’t common enough to be compared to the Human family unit, but he was trying to look interested. “What happened to your mother?”

She hoped no one was listening. “She was taken for Anlace.”

Three girls looked back at them.

“Pfff…fucking liar…”

“No way.”

“…not with looks like that…”

She hid behind him, suddenly highly averse to being looked at, or existing at all. “Nobody ever believes me, but it’s true. I swear.”

He patted her head, and he gave her tea to take home. Her uneventful day came to a close in her boring wooden bunk.

Someone threw a pillow at her.  A pink girl who was brand new, like most of her roommates. 

She had no friends, so no one had signed up to be her permanent bunkmate. Her life was a revolving door of hostile people. Baam's hypothetical example had hit way too close to home.

Her lips trembled.

She was facing the consequences.

None of the good girls wanted anything to do to her, because of her tardiness and her rulebreaking and her illegal trip off road.

There were rumors. About Baam and what had happened that night.

They were more than enough.

"Welcome back beautiful! Think you'll get your letter tomorrow? Haha. Hah...If you keep acting creepy we're telling on you. We can't take it anymore. I bet you lied to convince that Demon to baby you. Grow up. Taking advantage of their kindness is so low. Can't you see that he pities you? If you keep blabbing bullshit you really will end up on the Watch list."

"That makes sense. He's taking notes on her for the Watch."

"Crazy bitch..."

I hate it here.

Chapter 4: Year 5

My room is too lonely. A bunk bed for one. It’s sad. I get to use the upper level for extra storage. It’s quiet. On the surface there are loads of benefits to being alone, but I know what it means.

It's not a blessing.

She was up, against her own will. Sleeping in made her look worse, so she got up too early. That was her toxic routine. Her hair crackled when she brushed it. It was frayed. She had to braid it. The frizz made her look unkempt if she didn’t tie it down.

Off. That’s what the others think when they see me.

Her appearance was unacceptable. She washed her face, but even the coldest bucket of water couldn’t get rid of the grey around her eyes. She lacked sleep. It liked to run from her and taunt her.

Awful. That’s what they say when I lose my temper, but what am I supposed to do?

I’m still here.

Her nails had bite marks on them, and her cheeks were a bit gaunt. Not noticeably so. She was the picture of health despite her imperfect grooming habits, but she was going through a growth spurt. One her body was struggling to keep up with. Even with three square meals a day. She could see some of her ribs, but her butt was getting bigger. Her features weren’t even and she hated it, even though she knew she was growing and that’s how it’s supposed to be. Her Regular powers weren’t outstanding and her looks weren’t blooming either. It made being alone feel like an inevitable thing. Not an accident that could be fixed.

The pity hurts the most.

Her closet was full of winter mittens and extra blankets, and her uniform clothes were lined up on an extra rack. She had learned how to clean and dry her own clothing three years ago, in a very informative self-care class. Leaving her care up to the maids frustrated her. It made her itch. Her skirt was always wrinkle free. Snacks were dropped off at her door, and her only responsibility was signing up for classes and looking for a husband if she wished. It felt wrong. Like an off tune song. She was ready to go. She desired exploration and new experiences the way a baby bird wants food. Loudly and proudly, but no one else thought she had what it took to survive on her own. Her lap year had been approved without a fuss, or even a long interview.

She was a known problem child, and she hated the fact that she understood why.

I’m eighteen next month. Eleven days from now. Most girls leave by sixteen.

She felt too big for her own skin. Too tall for her bed. She had outgrown the group home, and yet here she stood.

Waiting for a future that would not accept her as she was.

Her shaking hands touched her skirt.

Berry red. I signed up for a lap year willingly, so I got a “special” set of uniforms. Young girls that are about to leave wear goji red skirts and berets. It’s such a bright color. An attractive and cute color. When a girl shows her chosen boy that color it means she’s nearly ready to go with him. It’s a time of heady excitement. Leaving a cramped bunk behind for marriage and a career is a joyful occasion. The group home is very kind too. They don’t push marriage, and the girls who follow their career passions get the same fanfare and praise. Even the housewives don’t get looked down upon too much, because “creating” children is still a necessary service.

Her skirt was buttery soft and freshly laundered, but pulling it up made her mouth curl in rage.

How have I not found a single good opportunity? Why don’t I fit? At this rate I’ll be stuck in a brainless job and the smallest mandated apartment available. Or under Watch.

That can’t be me.

I was so excited about life.

The wind whistled. An ugly and wet winter had come. The rolling shops that came to the gate to spread cheer and warm drinks never appeared. The rainy season drove them away with its whip. The group home compound become dreary and dull, as it did every year around her birthday. Her lacy curtains were hiding a valley dyed in dark blue. The sweat on her body was all from anxiety.

The walls of the house were well regulated with temperature controlled water and consistent repairs.

It was her.

She was the problem.

I should be making plans. Writing. Looking at the job postings on the board, but I’m not. I would become an Apprentice, but so many Regulars my age have fire. I noticed it when I was about fifteen. The best Regular jobs rush to snatch up people with elemental powers. Filling the rain bins. Making kitchen knives. Those are all tasks that Demons shouldn’t use their brawn on. They need all of their energy to fight. It’s so logical and irrefutable. Heating the bath houses is a matter of public health. Especially in the winter, so the sparks people can make can handle more luxurious needs.

Then where do I fit in?

My glow doesn’t produce heat. The instructors checked.

Her desk creaked.

A drawer slammed open.

She was holding her folder, which contained her basic paperwork. Proof that she had passed most of her classes. She had passed all of her required core classes, but her electives were littered with incorrect choices.

Herbology without nursing. Mapping without Business. I failed foraging because the teacher for that is here for a week. He’s elderly too. Being a Gatherer isn’t a “serious lifetime career” for a Human. It’s back breaking work, and my kind doesn’t really do that anymore. His lessons were just history lessons. I failed.

The only Human Gatherers out there are medical teachers or lauded business experts who want to take ideas from nature. Not adventurous Humans. I was blinded by what I wanted. By the vast view of the valley I saw with Baam.

She wanted to burn her file, but such an act would be futile. The group home teachers and staff had meticulously preserved another copy of her file in a records room, for her sake. There was no way to undo what had been done. Her years of whining had marked her as spoiled goods in every way.

Would I be accepted and happy if I had given up sooner? All I have is a bunch of disjointed beginner courses. I wanted to learn…so much, but here I am.

Seamstress, or cook.

Two of the most common careers.

She tied her waist ribbon. The large and childish bow looked freakish on her. She had an adult face that didn't suit it. She did not always hate it. The uniform perfection of the Demon guards did make it harder to bear though.

She did not like to look at them. She hated thinking about how unfair it was. The Demons didn’t have to deal with that particular social hierarchy at all, and it affected her daily.

It made her demeanor sour when handsome men on patrol paraded by.

The other girls thought that was strange, but the answer was right in front of them.

They made fun of her face, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the ever-professional Demons looked down on her too.

Am I unstable?

Berry red is so close to burgundy red, but the bow definitely sticks out. More Demons are watching me, in that careful way.

They are starting to suspect I am infirm.

A lap year is not a good sign.

If I get upset and reject my career options…it’s the Watch for me. An endlessly boring life in an adult group home, surrounded by people with no purpose and malfunctioning brains.

She gripped her head. Both of her hands fisted into her hair.

My dreams have pushed me into a dangerous corner. I’m not strange. I just didn’t think ahead. Three years and I didn’t think of a backup career. What was I thinking? Why would a teenage orphan be picked as that rare Human Gatherer, over a doctor or some other genius?

How?

I still don’t have an answer, and I have to start making my own money soon. Soon, I won’t have time for frivolous dreams.

Her papers landed in her only drawer with a lock. She buckled her matching shoes, and she buttoned up her humiliating berry burgundy cloak.

I’m not staying in to study. It won’t make a difference. I have a first aid care course test next week, but even if I pass I can’t…I can’t…

She left her lonesome cell.

There’s no one else with a big burgundy bow on her back, and it makes me hate going out, but it’s raining.

I can visit Baam.

No one else will be out.

I can enjoy one small part of today, if I see him.

Sometimes, she followed him on patrol until she got tired. Her thumping boots ruined his practiced silence. He was always inexplicably overjoyed to have her noisy boots behind him. Their inter-species friendship had yet to wane. Even the instructors could not pretend their friendship was based in pity.

He treats me like I’m a member of his Team.

Baam was simply too excited to see her. She attracted some envy, because it’s hard to bridge the gap. The other girls were only allowed to admire their guardians behind high windows.

I can’t hate him. I can’t keep lashing out like this. I’ll be a real adult basically tomorrow. I should be happy because my friend has a better life than me.

He always has.

Her heart twisted in her chest, but she picked up her umbrella. It wasn’t that humiliating color. It was black. She liked to use it to hide her face.

Her forced smile tried to hold her together. Giggling packs of girls were snacking around the four main hall fireplaces. Maids were handing out preserved fruit. More than fifty of those girls were goji red.

She didn’t blend in with the burgundy girls, and her hateful bow made her a freak. Her heart did not heal. Not even when she was allowed to pass without hearing a single insult. She was old news. Her peers had already decided that she was a mentally ill liar, prone to narcissistic delusions.

Any and all discussions about Anlace included a jab about her, and her most infamous lie.

She proved them right when she walked directly into the rain. The freak left to wander in the gloomiest dank darkness, miles away from sweet strawberries and her home hearth.

Her umbrella, and her glow, made the walk easier.

She waited just outside of the gates. Rain pounded down on her leathery umbrella, and the droplets grew bigger.

The drizzle was growing into a storm.

Maybe he won’t notice.

Usually, she only followed when it was misty. When the weather was still fairly fair.

She looked a tad desperate for company, but she did not cry.

It was hard to see outside her bubble.

I did get up early.

He’ll come around mid-day.

She had timed their meeting well. She had not missed him. Around forty minutes passed peacefully in the miserable rain. Her shoes were soggy, and she saw him running over to her. He took a break from his daily patrol to question her sanity.

“What are you doing out here? You idiot! Go back inside!”

She scoffed at him. He had not grown a hair. His wet suit gear wasn’t keeping him very dry. Looking down on him felt natural. She was beginning to accept that he would never grow up physically.

Water was sliding into the shiny beige hood that was supposed to be protecting his hair.

“No, and you can’t make me. I want to go for a walk with you today.”

His shoulders sagged. “Rachel, I would love that but look at the sky. We can’t even see your beloved stars…”

We usually can’t anyway. It’s too damn cloudy down here.

“….If you insist I’ll do an early lunch break, but after that you have to dry off. Even strong Regulars can get sick…and you’re not…”

She glared at him venomously. “I’m strong enough to walk in the rain. I won’t melt, and I wanted to see you.”

His head poked under her umbrella. “Why don’t you want me after my shift?”

In the middle of the night?

“That’s when I sleep dummy.”

He rolled his eyes, just like she did. He had copied some of her mannerisms to the letter.

Sometimes, she treated him like her real brother. The compulsion was impossible to resist. He talked like her. He joked with her. His eyes flashed a golden yellow when he saw misbehaving residents during his patrols. She had no other friends, so her relationship with him had become too familiar.

He looked a little cross, but he was smiling.

He loves it when I follow him. A truly gentlemanly Demon would have whisked me back inside, least I catch my death. They’re strict.

He's easy, like always.

“Do you like meat? Have you been to a butcher shop before? One that serves Demons, I mean.” He was taking her off the beaten path. Down an alley where rain could not reach them.

They disturbed a few fuzzy bats, who were hiding too.

“It depends. If you’re taking me to a place that serves...the kind of stuff you eat I probably wouldn't enjoy it. I can just sit next to you. I already ate.”

He was prepared. “They have chicken too. Does it have to be cooked?”

“Yes, or I’ll die.” His duties didn’t involve interacting with her kind very much. The missing gaps of information in his head were baffling.

“I think they have an oven, but I haven’t asked. Rain doesn’t get into the older houses back here, so it’s just like eating inside!”

She tried to look impressed, but she was upset in his stead.

The rules are too damn strict.

No property ownership.

No eating inside.

You’re banned from interacting with Humans that don’t want to befriend you, which makes introducing yourself really hard.

You have to sleep outside. You get a tent if you’re lucky. Only the most elite can use D&D rooms, and those are restricted for daytime only. You’re not really supposed to sleep in those either. Licensed D&D operations provide services, like haircuts and tailoring. Napping in the corner is just a bonus before you get kicked back outside like some rodent.

Being a Demon is a thankless chore.

The butcher shop was a hole in the wall. She was disgusted by the lack of effort the establishment was comfortable with offering. A few waterproof sheets had been bolted over a section of the alleyway, and the seats were old ale barrels.

I know he doesn’t need to be comfortable. He’s as tough as rock, but isn’t this too much?

Monsters would be eating us one by one if…oh my if they decide to leave we’re marked for death.

We really should be kinder to them.

Baam escorted her into a corner that smelled like dry wood. The pitiful excuse for a roof was doing a good job.

“I will order for us.”

He does make more than me.

I have to stop feeling guilty when he buys me treats.

She heard him say “cooked chicken” in front of the window. The rain drowned the rest out. A thick river was cutting through the empty tables. She could actually hear it gurgling.

It's getting dangerous.

Is…he going to sleep in weather like this? There’s no way he can afford a D&D room, and at the peak of night he’s screwed and expected to leave the gates.

“I’m…so selfish.”

She blushed like a berry.

All these years, and I didn’t think of what he was dealing with then the weather worsened. I’m sure he can tough it out, but he must feel something when it gets this wet.

“Why are you selfish?” He returned confused. Her mumbling had caught in his sharp ears.

She lied quickly. Lies came out on top of lies until her tongue burned from sin. “I was thinking of a friend of mine, back in the group home. I’ve been hanging out with more Humans lately, because I am about to graduate. Everyone is curious about everyone else, and who got the best apprenticeship position. I’m…thinking about getting presents for them. Yup.”

Don’t say “yup”. You’re not twelve.

Baam was holding a metal tray. The meat on it looked purple. It was one long muscle. It didn’t smell, but she was struggling to keep her polite smile on.

“Buy them perfume. It will freshen up their new apartments, and girls love flowers.”

At this rate he’ll invite me on a shopping trip, and I’ll spend my graduation allowance on gifts for no one. I can’t let that happen.

“I can’t buy him perfume! It’s a boy. He wouldn’t be happy.”

Her chicken was still cooking. Baam’s teeth were inside the purple meat he had ordered, which clearly wasn’t fit for Human consumption.

Did it just wiggle? Is it even dead? Monster meat is gross. I can’t believe they eat it.

He coughed. A finger coated in mystery meat grease pointed at her. “Are you getting married?”

“Don’t look so shocked!” He was right to be confused, because of her persistent unpopularity, and that made her feel like a loser. “But I’m not. I don’t want to rush into something I’m not ready for. I would really rather support myself.”

Big talk for somebody with no offers.

Baam stopped eating. “I can smell yours. One second.”

He fetched her tray like an experienced waiter. Shockingly, the chicken breast came with herbs. It was also served on a cute, floral porcelain plate. It smelled divine, and the portain size was way too huge. Big enough for three girls her size.

How much did this cost?

The slices of lemon pressed into the top had been baked to a caramel crisp. She looked at his plate, and then back at her own.

“This is an insult.”

Baam looked crushed. “I’m so sorry…”

She didn’t hear it. She stormed over to the window, and she banged on it with both of her fists.

“How could you treat him like an ani…”

A scream of utter terror exploded from out the window. It was closed, but it was still insanely loud through the barrier. Rachel pressed her face against it to see what was happening inside.

The owner of the butcher shop was old.

She’s not a Regular.

It’s s an old woman.

I’ll never look like her.

Her chest started to feel funny again.

She knocked in the window. The woman was huddling in the corner, like she was waiting to be swept away by the rain.

“Um…hello!”

The wrinkled lady looked up, with tears gushing out of her eyes. “Oh, thank the stars! It’s not a Demon.”

The rusty window opened completely. “What’s the matter with your dish, dear? Is it raw? I did give the heaviest piece I have left. I didn’t want it to go in the trash. I get too many fine birds. This is such a small establishment, and the patrollers are my clientele because they have to pass by here. I'm on their route. You’re such a cute young girl! What are you doing out here?”

Maybe she’s infirm and about to be taken by the Watch.

Should I spare her?

No.

I can’t turn back now.

“I am here to complain. You served me a beautiful meal, but my friend is eating purple shit off of a dirty piece of tin! You’ve wronged him and I want you to give him something more palatable.”

The woman leaned towards her. “If I gave every Demon a porcelain plate I’d be out of business by next week. The meat they eat melts through it, and the tin dear. Metal just lasts longer.”

She crossed her arms. “I can’t relent! The difference is to…”

The butcher signed. “He doesn’t care. You’re very adorable dear, but he would eat off the ground if I didn’t put out those chairs. I’ve seen many years and I’m sure you’ve noticed I did not accept their blood like you. Word of advice. Get some friends like you. A Demon like that will disappoint you, in the end.”

Rachel did the unthinkable. Her eyes flared, and she glowed brightly. She frightened the helpless woman on purpose, and she slammed the window shut herself.

She flounced away with her chin high up.

What a bitch.

“I’m back, Baam.”

He had not eaten.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your appetite, but I don’t it’s fair that you eat uncooked leftovers and I get….well…the best meal I’ve had in weeks. That bitch is unforgivable, but I know this is delicious just by looking. She could have made you something great. It's pure laziness...”

Baam whispered. “I want to eat with you, so don’t leave.”

She picked up the metal knife and fork that had been provided with her plate. “I won’t. I needed her…and you…to know that you deserve better.”

He picked up his meal with his hands. While he was chewing her compulsion took over.

“You should sleep with me tonight. It’s getting really cold. I’m sorry I didn’t invite you in before.”

Baam didn’t look up. “Its not allowed.”

She winked at him conspiratorially, like she had been planning this caper for weeks. “Humans in distress are allowed to request a Demon watchguard, in case of domestic violence or harassment. Every…I mean one girl doesn’t like me. If you’re found I’ll say I felt threatened, so I wanted my Demon friend to stand guard. What do you think?”

He ate the last bite. “You can’t lie, Rachel.”

“I’m not lying! I do feel threatened! She leaves rotten fruit outside my door. It's creepy! I think its a she. I haven’t seen the culprit, but it could be a boy sneaking in, which is also a serious matter.”

Everyone does it, but I don’t want him to think I’m that unlikable. I’d rather pretend there’s only one bully. Rotten fruit is such a clear symbol. Every day or so I get a reminder. I can't make friends because they don't want me.

Having Baam around will make my graduation a happier occasion.

“How many days will I be requested for?”

She was officially excited.

We’re going to have so much fun.

“Until I graduate. I need you to stay with me. I feel so unsafe.”

He waited for her to finish her far superior meal. Their dowdy tent smelled like fresh herbs, and she could feel the coziness of their friendship warming her heart.

“I will submit the request tomorrow.”

Chapter 5: Year 5 (ll)

I have a friend in my room.

I’m smiling when I shouldn’t.

If he sees through me I’ll get a real dressing-down. I’ll be a scullery maid no matter what.

She couldn’t summon up any real worry. Having him with her had given her a burst of joy even she did not expect. She was giddy like a proper schoolgirl, not a lost and unwanted child.

Now adult.

Baam would never rat me out. I’m being treated like a special asset, even though I’m the opposite of that, because he is my friend.

That horrid old hag was wrong.

How could I be disappointed in him?

A whistle pushed through her lying lips. She was fluttering around him like a bird after seed, but for once he wasn’t paying attention to her.

He’s going to ruin his uniform.

He’s being too serious.

Even if I was getting bullied there’s only eleven days left. I’ll get a letter, and I’ll walk out the gates. If a murderer was after me the patrol captain would be here already.

Murder is serious no matter how worthless you are.

A thrill of nervousness told her the truth. She needed Baam more than she wanted to admit. Her life had reached a turning point, and she didn’t want to be alone for it. She would smother herself in him to keep her fear at bay if she had to.

When I asked for help I didn’t expect him to crawl on the ground.

Baam was kneeling, and his hands were reaching under her dresser. Her room got a full deep clean along with a safety check. He even poked her ceiling with a broom. She couldn’t guess what he was looking for up there, but he dusted the cobwebs away for her too. He refolded her pajamas. Even the pieces she had forgotten to fold in the first place.

He's being too thorough. How long has he been knocking on the walls? I mentioned rotten fruit and trash, not a bloody knife in my bed.

Is this the normal procedure a patroller has to follow, when a Regular reports a threat?

Baam checked the lock on her window. It rattled. “There’s a bad smell,” The handle nearly broke when he pulled it tighter.

She crossed her arms, and her lips twitched.

Is it me?

I know everyone has a smell.

Demons talk about it.

It makes their work easy, out in the woods. It’s impossibly easy for the lost to be found.

Baam looked twitchy too. An unusual sight. She almost felt guilty, but her upcoming graduation had crippled her logic. She needed someone. Some comfort. Baam happened to fit the bill perfectly.

She knew he would forgive her, if her white lie came to light.

“Do you want to sleep in my top bunk? It’s…empty…”

It always has been.

Letting a Demon sleep overnight is taboo, but surely he can cozy up for a few hours. He went into one of the upper offices to report my…my false report. He’s allowed to rest in the yard.

My room is right next to the grass. I don’t live in the warmer, deeper dorms where the younger kids are. I don’t even remember what they look like.

“No thank you Rachel.”

Her bottom lip was starting to feel sore. She bit it again, in the same red spot. It was a compulsion. A complex feeling had taken over. She didn’t want him to leave.

I like having a visitor.

I’m jittery in a good way.

He was measuring the thickness of her door. “ I’ll stand outside. The teaching staff on duty handled my request well. I would have been worried if they made me wait until morning. I’m glad you opened up to me Rachel, and I’ll be standing outside your door while you sleep. You won’t be able to get rid of me when you’re awake either. I’m confident you’ll feel safe for your apartment transfer.”

She played up the drama. “Am I safe?”

He sounded professional. “Your window isn’t a severe safety issue. The walls of this building are quite sheer. Your bully won’t be able to climb up without making enough noise to wake the damned. I’m a little ashamed but it’s hard to tell if the target is male or female. All of your gossip wasn’t an exaggeration. Lots of young men have managed to sneak in here. Here. Not just the grounds or the gates. This entire floor stinks. What are the adults doing?”

Baam was about to start biting his nails. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be afraid. Human couples are different. Those kinds of visits aren’t dangerous, and over fifty girls will be cycled out the same day as me. Lots of very excited new husbands will make it in here. No force on earth can stop them. Its romantic.”

It’s hard to explain to another Human. With a Demon it’s hopeless.

Baam briefly covered his nose. “It smells gross.”

I used to call love gross when I was six.

He’s cute.

I’m mostly certain that it’s tradition for the teachers to “let approved husbands sneak in”.

That’s a bit sweet too, and I haven’t been bothered by it.

“At least ten unregistered citizens have been inside…within the last week. That brings the pool of suspects up another fifty. Fifty potential wives can let in that many men. There’s no Demons stationed inside group dwellings like this. The young ones find it stressful. We’re only familiar with most of your appearances. Not much else. The smell is an insane variable though. Your teachers should have…do they know?”

“It’s safer,” he was quick on the uptake, even though human behavior wasn’t his area of expertise. “It’s very hush hush. Teenagers like to have a taste of freedom, especially now. Think about it. Our lifespans were artificially lengthened. Regulars still naturally live like every day is their last. It's in my blood too…”

I don’t know why my classmates hate me so. They have the same feeling. It’s just about romance. Not going outside.

Is such a small difference the entire reason for my suffering?

Surely not.

“…anyway if the boys weren’t in here the girls would be out there breaking rules like there’s no tomorrow. It’s necessary.”

The grey sky made Baam look even grimmer than he sounded. She was starting to feel insecure, even though it wasn’t likely that he’d insult her so brazenly. Her grooming routine was not out of the ordinary.

It’s like he’s eating a lemon.

“The smell…”

Her feelings were officially hurt, “You’re more dramatic than an opera singer. I didn’t know you hated…”

Don’t ask.

“…the smell of human men that much. Um. Is it only the men or should I throw myself out that window?”

Smooth as butter.

You don’t sound cripplingly insecure.

“It’s not the smell in particular. It’s the place. The students being raised in here are supposed to be protected. Aren’t you upset? There’s a bunch of strangers in your home. Why? Why have we been given such a huge disadvantage? Your tormentor could easily be a male who was rejected by this institution. Someone without the qualifications to marry is bound to act up, or hold onto bitterness at best. I’d be angry if someone unfit was stalking after me. Are you enraged? Is that what your face looks like when you’re hiding strong emotions? Where is your urge to protect yourself, above all else? You need it to live.”

His zeal was crushing her.

Metaphorically.

In reality he was lifting her mattress, looking for nefarious smelly objects.

Not at all.

I’m not a territorial creature.

Maybe I’ll feel different when I have an apartment. I imagine uninvited guests are a pain.

She shrugged. “Oh, well. Life happens. If my fellow girls are anything like me…they’re tired of being protected.”

Baam turned towards her sharply. She could see that he was in work mode.

She moved out of the way, so he could start inspecting the corner behind her. “I appreciate and applaud your efforts, good patroller, but I’ve been keeping a careful watch on my room. I realized I can’t control other people long before I told you the truth. I’m…mostly sure the culprit hasn’t even been in my room once. The fruit at the door was the final straw though.”

He nodded.

Seriously.

It’ll take days for him to calm down and relax with me. This is what having a friend is like. When you say you’re in danger you don’t get brushed off, or a scoff. I’m overwhelmed. I’d hug him if it wouldn’t scare him more.

His eyes were extra round, under all his bluster. “You’re too confident. Violent crimes still happen, even though this Enclave is fully stocked. Food. Walls. You’ve got it all, but it’s not enough for some of you. I read that adolescents can be particularly volatile.”

She sat on her bed, because he was doing a second sweep of her room. He would not be stopped. She was equally incorrigible. He looked at her cheerful face with pity, as if her smile was a sign of maturity. A suffering young woman, presenting an image of nobility under extreme pressure.

It was not.

“Want to skip stones in the pond tomorrow?”

I hate awkwardly walking by when the other girls do it.

“We won’t have time for that. I have determined that you are…right. Only you have been in here, along with one cleaner that may have been sent for a surprise inspection. That’s standard. Your building is so busy though, even though your floor is quiet. I can’t shake the feeling that the culprit will use the current “relaxed rules” to sneak in. Humans are clever. It could even be a staffer.”

He was cross-legged on the floor.

He’s rubbing his chin like we’re watching a murder-mystery play.

“If you ignore me tomorrow I’ll hit you with a baldness curse. I'll save up for a potion. I mean it,” She was standing over him, rubbing his head, but he didn’t react. Even when she met his eyes to make her threat clear. “The moment you walk into the dining hall with me the mystery will end. They’ll give up. Not everyone has a Demon friend, and that makes your presence scarier. We’ll be skipping stones by day two.”

His head didn’t budge. “Where are your friends?”

A damning question.

“…I need to ask them some questions, but I can always start with you. When did you start to feel threatened?”

The day I put on this stupid outfit that marks me as a failure.

“All year. Leaving late makes me look like an invalid to other people. Some of the girls suspect I’ll be put under Watch.”

The truth was painful. Like nails on a chalkboard.

Baam did not comfort her.

“I see. So you can’t name a single suspect. You are in the dark, and after months of your human instincts going haywire ominous symbols started appearing at your door.”

She shrugged extra hard, with her hands in the air, because he had somehow turned rotten fruit into a greater crime.

“Is a rotten apple a symbol?”

He looked too interested.

Oh no.

“It is. Was that left in front of your room multiple times?”

She struggled with the next step in her dance of lies. Her sad existence was drifting uncomfortably close.

It’s scraps. The coldest, highest floors are for the oldest girls. There are less of us, because the Apprentices always get snapped up by guilds early. Sixteen, max. So the younger ones treat this area like a secret clubhouse. There’s garbage in the corners all the time, but I only started stepping in it when I put on my humiliating bow. I’ve gotten used to kicking apple cores out of the way, but I suppose it has escalated. There’s almost always garbage right where I need to step. Sometimes a pile, like someone actually dumped a small bin there. Harmless pranks. A cleaner picks it up. It's clear that the adults know about the mess. I assume it’s only getting worse because I’m about to leave, and the more prestigious Regulars want me to know I won’t be getting any well-wishes.

No one but Baam will give me any.

“I’ve stepped in a pile of trash twice, and kicking sorrel apple cores out of my way…well…that’s almost daily. It’s so childish. I’m worried that our target might actually be a group of cruel younger girls, and not a real threat. I don’t want to believe I’m overreacting, but it’s the most likely option.”

Baam had not blinked for a while.

“Is it?” He was adding tension to the air with his stare. His hands were fists in his tangled lap. Touching his head didn’t feel appropriate any longer. “Do you know where sorrel apples grow?”

She wasn’t concerned, because she was lying, and none of the students who hated her had ever stepped in her direction. Not even to spit. The group home represented their future. No girl would risk that to hurt one weird girl.

“No idea.”

“Watchtower three.”

Her neck cracked. Her eyes were glowing. She tried to calm it, but her obvious reaction wouldn’t go away.

“Sorrel apples are rare, Rachel. They only grow within the Watchtower facilities. Well, two of them. Not all three in this Enclave. It’s not really public knowledge but the residents inside do some casual labor to keep their bodies fit. Plants and trees and walls are used to box the residents in more naturally. Again, for stress. Finer food assists with that too. Sorrel apples are known for their sweetness, but they’re rare. They’re used for trade, so it’s convenient to grow them behind two walls instead of one. The staff and guards do most of the picking, but the residents within consider it one of their activities. Haven’t you ever wondered why you have fruit in the middle of winter? This Enclave is famous for its greenhouses, which surround the Watchtowers.”

She was looking at the ground. “T-t-that means somebody doesn’t like me. It’s just trash. It…can’t mean I’m being pushed in there on my last day…who would even…”

Be so cruel to me?

I haven’t done anything wrong.

I was an unruly child, but I didn’t hurt anyone.

Her window had changed shape. It was glittering and turning into water. Panic had destroyed her sight. She knew about the greenhouses. Another educational wonder, but she didn’t know where they were located. When there was a shortage of fresh goods in the winter some appeared like magic, by trade or through the secret glass houses that were warm year round. She wasn't clear on the details, like everyone else.

No one would ever suspect that such an important resource is locked up with all the crazy bastards and bitches nobody wants.

She was holding her cheeks.

There was other garbage. My peers of many years have hissed the most heinous things about me.

It could be coincidental.

“We eat apple pudding often here…”

“…I did look at your weekly menu. The teachers gave me some notes about your daily life. Sorrel apples are blended up and mixed with spices, so every girl here can enjoy the taste. Whole, fresh ones don’t last long outside the greenhouses. It’s winter. We’ve had snow. It's highly likely that you’re being bothered by someone wealthy. You said you’ve been kicking cores around. A whole apple is supposed to serve a dozen mouths. How do you not know what’s on your own dining hall menu? Fresh sorrel apples are not commonly available. Slices are individually served in high summer, but that’s it. Your memory isn’t bad. Your story isn’t making any sense.”

That’s exactly what I didn’t want to hear.

His hands were on her knees. He had more questions for her. She had even more for herself.

Am I in trouble?

“Do you isolate yourself? Has the harassment gotten that bad?”

I wish he was stupider.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Baam. I’m tired. Go away.”

She was acting defensive. Crossing her legs too. It forced his hands off her.

“I won’t.”

She should have been touched. "Please leave me alone."

He had grasped onto firm determination. “I won’t until you answer one more question. It’s vitally important for the investigation, and I will need it for tomorrow. I can’t wait.”

“Get out,” Her curls were in her face. She sounded unyielding, which was hilarious. She was a joke. A pariah who had to beg and lie to spend half a night with a boy who did not hate her. The abjuration she had experienced became evermore more real. A curse that could follow her out of her childhood home. 

“I have nothing else to say. Protect me like you promised.”

His golden eyes lit up.

“That’s all I ask. Did you make any promises, Rachel? Have you spoken to anyone about your fanciful dreams? Filled them with ideas you cannot hope to fulfill?”

Her shoulders lost their strength. Soon, her forehead was pressed against her shaking knees.

“I am not a heretic, Baam. I acknowledge and love the deal struck between humanity and demonkind.”

She felt a touch.

“You don’t have to quote textbooks with me,” He was trying to lift her head up. Physically. It was supposed to be cute. “I had to make sure. Not everyone is as understanding as I am. Your…dreams are a fair reason to be declared invalid, and you do sneak out too much.”

You’ve brought this on yourself.

Is that what he’s saying?

They’ll drag me away.

“For my own safety”.

If it’s true I won’t attend my own graduation. I’ll be dragged off stage before then.

Baam does not have the power to save me.

He pried her chin up. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?

“What’s wrong?! I’m about to go to fruit jail to live with the leftovers! Is that all you have to say to me?! I won’t be able to see you. Ever again. If I’m carted in there bye-bye! Demons aren’t allowed to befriend the tender-minded.”

He was patting her head now. They had switched roles. “There. There. We’re already friends, so you can’t go into real isolation. It would cause a problem.”

She grabbed his wrist. “You’re not strong enough to cause a fuss, let alone a problem.”

His eyes shifted away. “You may be right. I’m not the most competitive Demon, because I have everything I want. Don’t cry, Rachel. Even if the worst comes to pass all you have to do is wait for me. There must be special exceptions made for friendships forged before the determining vote. I would fulfill any request required to see you.”

She was seeing red, and blue, and purple. “Am I supposed to be comforted by that? Occasional visits in fruit prison, under Watch with four nurses and safety cuffs on hand? Is that all you want my life to be!? I am not insane, Baam!”

Her ears were burning. She was on fire.

He side-eyed her.

Of all the reactions to have, it was that.

“You are certain you didn’t tell anyone about your desire to be an uncivilized, heretical, primitive forest woman?”

How does travelling and seeing the damn world I was born in count as that?

Her smile was shaky too.

“Yes, I am sure.”

She said it through gritted teeth.

Her cheeks were wet.

He was sitting next to her. “If that’s really true this is a particularly vicious form of bullying. I have determined that an adult must be doing it, and furthermore they’re vehemently enjoying it. If I am right there’s an apple core outside of your door right now. They must have a demon on hand strong enough to evade me, if there's a real mastermind instead of a little girl.”

Was he....acting?

She wiped her cheeks furiously. “You said all that mean garbage on purpose?”

“I did it because I care about you.”

She looked at her trembling hands. Her urge to frolic and have fun had been killed violently, with a sledgehammer.

“I want to look. You get behind me.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you. Rachelll…”

He whined when she pushed his cheek away. She sighed before she opened the door, and then she saw her reflection. Not in a mirror. Her head was blobby. She could see ghostly curls, and two scared eyes. Not much else.

“J-j-cycle end jelly? It’s not even close to that time. Why? Oh…”

She did not fall to her knees, but she bent down too far. The light gold circle of gelatin matched her eyes. It had been cut into twelve slices for easy eating. Each slice had a piece of preserved sorrel apple in it. Each one was prohibitively time consuming to create. It was used to celebrate the end of a cycle. The end of something important in general. Like the end of a successful pregnancy. She knew exactly what sorrel apples looked like thanks to the traditional celebration treat. Light brown, with splashes of deeper shades when ripe.

It's over for you.

Is that what it means?

She dragged the shiny platter in with her foot.

Baam tried to stop her.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to eat it.”

Chapter 6: Year 5 (III)

Am I selfish?

The jelly was starting to smell too sweet. It wasn’t possible for her to eat all of it. Her greedy eyes were bigger than her stomach. The taste made her glow figuratively instead of literally. She didn’t regret not sharing, but it felt wasteful. The threat at her door was too much of a gift to waste, so she filled her guts with it. It was doomed to turn over from sweet to sour in a day, in her room, hidden away. She had no one to share it with, and she wasn’t kind or stupid enough to reach out to her neighbors one last time. Her burgundy bow was more than enough of an excuse, but she did feel a twinge. A moment where she thought it would be nice to have a group of normal, human friends to eat expensive desserts with. The dream drifted away like a stray leaf from her main tree, and her soul fell back into the current mystery she was facing.

It excited her.

The sudden storm in her future made up for some of the time she had lost to loneliness.

What am I missing?

She was supposed to be safe, forever. With her little blood blessing and her guaranteed place within an Enclave.

Do I know anyone super wealthy that doesn’t like me?

Her stomach was about to explode.

Baam chastened her. Ever conservative and reasonable. “Don’t eat any more.”

“I won’t.”

I can’t.

When was this dish made?

Was it brought in from some fancy kitchen, or did the perpetrator make it here?

If so the kitchen must stink of sweetness, and the culprit works within. I’m allowed to bring my dirty dishes into the cooking area.

I’ll start there.

It was going bad. The carefully prepared dessert was slowly turning into garbage. More symbolism, perhaps. Perhaps it was so symbolically charged that it wasn’t meant to be eaten. For all she knew it was a cheaper counterfeit version of the titular impressive recipe. She had no way of knowing. Her only companion liked to eat poisoned filth.

I’m going to leave this place with my head held high.

If I solve this, with Baam, I could…

I will be noticed.

Her stomach wasn’t sick. It was overfilled. Whatever the case the symbol wasn’t poisoned. Her tongue had the texture of jelly even after she swallowed, and it changed her ever slightly.

Suddenly, she hated the taste of her favorite mild and affordable roll cart tea.

I don’t even have room for breakfast.

“It’s time to go downstairs, Rachel.”

She felt like she was missing something. A puzzle piece. Not one that was attached to anything in particular. A single piece. A stare. A sneer that stood out inside the unfeeling crowd that was society. Her mind was hungry for clues.

I’m less afraid with Baam here. Such a personalized threat means the enemy has to know about him too. Baam is a major reason why I’m hated. Even the future laundry girls, my peers, don’t talk to me. I violate unspoken rules when I associate with him.

Her shoes snapped on.

His kind are heroes to most. Maybe I'd feel the same if I didn’t know how dumb…I mean single-minded…Demons can be. The teachers are upset that I’m not more respectful to everyone, but especially him.

Some of the girls here were saved from monster raids.

Is the enemy some righteous Demon-Lover? Catty worship like that isn’t allowed in here, but out there it’s more common. Which means it's a hidden norm, kept away from young Regulars.

The sun looked like it was struggling. Grey clouds were smothering it, fat with rain. Yet none was falling.

Baam was next to her ear, and he was also poking her. She had frozen in her thinking pose. He was getting impatient. “What are you thinking about so hard?”

She wanted to throw the jelly at the wall. “The culprit! It’s…I don’t know. I’m not used to mysteries. My life is supposed to make sense in here. There was supposed to be a plan for me…but…” She felt like she was falling, for a second, but it was all in her mind. “…there isn’t…” When she looked up at Baam he was stunned by her smile.

Even Baam, a big tough demon, doesn’t know everything.

He’s my backup and my muscle, but the key to this is inside me somewhere.

Only I can remember who threatened me.

Weather it’s personal or about him it’s all connected to me.

The shining jelly was stinging her nose. She kicked it away with a flourish, and she stepped in front of her confused bodyguard. The mess oozed off the plate, staining the wood floor and a stray sock.

“I have to solve this myself.”

Baam straightened his shirt calmly. “No you don’t.”

The floor creaked.

She pinched his cheek.

“Aaah!”

“You’re taking the wind out of my sails, Baam. Be quiet! It’s not possible for you to solve my problems alone either. Demons aren’t allowed to wander around in here freely. You don’t know where the secret spots are. I’m the only one that can trace my tracks and find clues. Just watch my back, ok?”

He waited for her to let go of his cheek. “I aehm…got hermission…”

She pulled it harder. “I know more than you.”

It came out garbled. “Argh…won’t leave uur side…”

Close enough.

Sounds like a yes to me.

The stakes have been raised.

She was about to confidently kick her door open. Time was of the essence. She had to find a notebook. Her skirt rustled. She had a few scraps of paper, and those would have to do.

Perhaps the enemy was smart enough to send an emissary. A dirty work assistant. Anyone could be associated with the culprit. Someone could have ratted me out to someone powerful too. I’ve snuck outside, and off the safe paths, too many times. Being dragged off to the extra double safety of a Watchtower was always in the cards for me.

I was careless.

Aimless girls go to the Watchtower.

If only I was more subtle about my…oddness as a kid.

Her sigh made Baam pause. He was about to turn the doorknob. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to do anything.”

She smacked his hand. “How about you start listening to me for once. It’s us against the world right now…”

Me and a friend, facing adversity. Painting outside the lines. I’m not afraid anymore. Perhaps the Outside World is my destiny. A coddled life inside an Encalve doesn’t suit me.

“…heh…”

He noticed her overflowing, strange excitement. His interruptions temporarily ceased while he let her giggle.

“Think of today as a test run, Baam...”

His eyebrows moved up.

“…If I can dodge this knife aimed at my back I can be ready for anything…”

He didn’t sound half as enthusiastic as she did. “That’s nice, Rachel, but don’t run out the door.”

Why not?

Silly Baam.

You’re held back by rules, and the hierarchy of your species.

Humans are allowed to break through that.

No blood required.

Only brains.

If I lose I’ll go down fighting.

I broke the law. So what? The Enclave is boring and the world is more enticing.

Nothing can change that.

She launched herself out the door. Her skirt swished. She reached her hand back to brush her bangs out of the way. Her back straightened up for once, and then her vision went black.

A solid wall squashed her nose.

“…ooch…”

“I told you not to.”

“What?” When she opened her rapidly blinking eyes they were not alone. Her heroic quest became an unreachable blur.

“Who?”

“I’m Aguero.”

She had slammed into a very familiar back. The same uniform. With a slightly looser scarf. Not loose enough to violate regulations, but the difference was still noticeable. The elegantly and purposefully ruffled stranger had hair that was nearly white. It shone blue. Hair color was just one of many ways to spot a Demon. Dye is common. The shine that usually belongs on silk is not.

It doesn’t even look like hair.

Her heel moved one step back, behind the threshold. Two of the same uniforms were blocking her in. Her fingers tied themselves in knots together, and she lost her straight posture. She glanced up at the other not-boy, even though they were the same height.

He has a notebook.

It was black, and made of leather.

Aguero addressed both of them, like she was supposed to know what was happening. Which was very rude. She did not, and he kept making assumptions as he went on and on. Moving at a pace she could not follow.

“We’re halfway through the interview process…”

We?

“You didn’t interrupt breakfast, did you? I don’t want anyone to feel threatened.”

Her eyes felt funny. Itchy.

“We have to be stern, Baam. Or they won’t listen. Most of the humans are underage with short memories, and they’re rather self-absorbed. They’re supposed to be focusing on learning and cultivating their abilities. Petty drama ebbs and flows like a river in closed environments. Rachel keeps getting mixed up with names and incidents that don’t belong to her. We’re not looking for a romantic entanglement, but those secrets keep coming up too. The current cycle of teaching staff told the residents to stay in the main hall, until everyone is questioned. Some of the humans will get uncomfortable. None of them like being ordered around, or much order in general. If someone does cry, yell, or complain it’s likely that the suspect is young. Young and not a threat…and that means you overturned this place for no good reason.”

Baam was holding her shoulder.

When did that happen?

“When the higher ups say “good reason” they’re talking about resources like food and water. I have priorities outside of that.”

Me.

That’s really sweet.

Isn’t it?

Aguero managed to look sarcastic without any kind of exaggerated movement. It was all in his eyes. “Yes, of course. We love our human friends and you’re so lucky to have one. Can you imagine how deep the divide would get without inspiring examples like you two?

They’re too blue.

I like eyes that look like water.

His are too strong. Like paint rather than a body part.

I know he’s making fun of me.

Not because he’s being unkind, but a feeling. One I’m too familiar with.

Why don’t I belong anywhere?

Is there something wrong with me?

Her neck felt stiff.

She didn’t look at Baam when she spoke to him. “Why…didn’t you introduce him to me?”

A loaded question.

One Baam didn’t notice.

Two working together implies that a team is forming, and Baam has been very successful amongst his own kind during training and skirmishes.

He pushed her forward, guiding her towards the place where she used to dine, before she stopped fitting in.

“You don’t need to know him.”

Her shoes slid. Walking felt like turning a crank. She noticed the halls were conspicuously empty. The top of the stairwell, surrounded by floating candlelight, looks picturesque. It was incorrect. The highest part of every stairwell belonged to the most popular girls on that floor. Those lofty young ladies enjoyed the privilege of judging whoever dared to walk up or down. They were a constant. She saw a green glass vase she had never seen in her life. One that was usually covered in leaning, lounging teenage orphans with great hair.

She started to panic.

“Ugh…”

“Rachel?”

Aguero was twenty steps ahead, walking down the curving stairs. When he looked up at her she saw the disinterest. The lack of care that lies above disdain.

He's only here because Baam asked him to come, without telling me.

That’s a team thing.

Did he join one or make one?

The idea loomed over her mystery, dwarfing it. Making a big enough impression to start a team is rare. Rules, regulations, and perks forced Demonkind to serve and protect together. Teams formed to support potential Rankers, mostly. Demons strong and smart enough to influence every Enclave. She was curious about who the unspoken pack leader could be. She wondered why Baam has never once mentioned a Demon he admired even once, after so much shared time. There was never a shadow behind him. Or friends calling to him, when they were together. She didn’t have any cards to pull.

I thought he was alone too.

He had to guide her down the stairs with both hands. She felt betrayed, but it was more than that. She was prepared to become even angrier. To wait for the right moment, and the right way to lash out. All of her previous bubbly energy was flowing into that.

“Lets go to the indoor balcony. We’ll wait for the results up there.”

Her head whipped towards him. “That’s where the teachers eat.”

That wasn't a direct no, so he kept moving her like a chess piece.

He turned, with her. He opened a door too. They entered a staff only hallway together. The skinny balcony above the kitchens seated twelve. It was empty, but the floor below was a forest of faces. The trees were of all heights. The cleaners and laundresses were being questioned too.

She sat in the back, as far away from the view as she could get. She wasn’t invisible. The Regulars who looked down on her could see her, above them.

Too many eyes.

“This isn’t what I wanted…”

They’re scared.

“Rachel?”

She buried her face in her hands. Her panic laced yellow eyes had caught six other patrol uniforms, and two fully grown adult Demons. A full team and then some. All of which were questioning Regulars and members of the support staff in long lineups. The ribbons of coughing, shuffling people looked like they were on trial. She should have felt more guilty than angry, but being cut off hurt more.

He has a whole life I know nothing about.

He was mistaken about her bent form, there bowing in a wrought iron chair.

“We have a lead. Don’t be nervous.”

She didn’t look up.

The lines on the carpet were crawling like bugs.

We?

There is no we.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?”

She didn’t move. Her eyes were buried in her palms. She was digging deep, trying to find a way to hurt him as much or more than she was hurting.

“Is it too loud in here?”

Her heartbeat was slow enough to count, so she did that. The questions and questioning and fearful complaints in the main hall faded after thirty.

Thirty-one....Th...

His hand moved away from her shoulder to pull her chin up. Peeling her eyes away from the darkness. The light hurt, and she saw flashes of gold before the shape of his eyes took form.

“What’s wrong?”

Chapter 7: Year 5 (☆)

I’m crying.

The witness made it worse. Aguero could see that she was upset. He didn't want to help.

Her back pressed against the nearest door.

Baam waited patiently like it wasn’t all his fault. Or even half his fault. She was usually happy around him. There to uselessly defend him when he did not need it. He trusted her too much.

When she did look back into his golden eyes she could see that he suspected everything but him.

“Are you scared of adults?”

Her throat pumped like he was choking her.

Scared?

I’m angry.

Has he ever seen me…really angry? We’ve been living an easy life together. Maybe it makes sense that he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks.

Maybe I should have seem this coming.

Am I too selfish?

Did he mention his friends before, and I forgot because I’m too caught up in myself?

I could try to explain, but I can’t find the words.

There was an easy way out, and she took it. Her breakdown, which resembled fear, had an easy explanation.

“Those are big demons, and I don’t want to meet them.”

The pair below didn’t react, even though their ears would certainly hear. The female with long, black hair left the room though.

With distain in her step.

I didn’t want to meet you either.

The silent version of rejection clicked out in those high-heeled steps.

“I wasn’t planning on introducing you.”

Her heart jumped out through her ribs, and it started crawling away from him.

The male adult remained in sight, but the only thing that stood out about him was the stick in his mouth.

Is that blood candy?

Her tears made any snooping impossible. If she wanted to claim to be sane locking herself in a closet was the best option.

There wasn’t one nearby.

The shadows available to cling to were thin.

Her face was soaked.

Baam was touching her cheeks like he was trying to turn off a faucet.

“Stop it.”

“No.”

There it was.

He wasn’t taking her seriously.

Not out of malice, but love.

He thought their invisible enemy was scaring her. The depth of her sadness and betrayal had bounced off of his shining eyes like butter on a hot plate.

Stop touching me.

She couldn’t bring herself to say that.

What do I do?

Soon, he’ll be busy with his team.

I have no time, and the enemy very likely is a scary adult. 

Someone who will hurt me on purpose.

She was far enough away from the balcony. To be seen and not heard. The other girls were eating sandwiches forlornly in line, complaining about her. She had lost what few chances she had left. The most gentle young ladies, who looked at her with pity, would never spare her another glance now. Her incoming adult life was starting to look bleak. It was supposed to be another chance. A change, and it was gone just like that. The walls around the Enclave were literally closing in on her.

The big pink bow on her back was never going to go away.

She was stuck with it forever.

Aguero looked offended by her rage and the sloppy mess on her face. It was like she was giving off a bad smell, rather than expressing her emotions.

“Why are you looking at him like that?”

She stuck her tongue put at the gawking demonic boy, who did not need to be there. If Aguero didn’t want to look he was free to go. In her fragile head it felt and looked like he was staying to silently mock her.

None of Baam’s friends approved of her irrational outburst.

“He can’t help you.”

It was dismissive.

“Huh?”

“Aguero is good at collecting information, but he’s never around humans. Trying to talk to him is a waste of your time.”

Is that…what it looks like?

I’m not trying to connect with him.

Quite the opposite.

I wish he’d go away.

I’d give and do a lot for another day of ignorance.

She looked at him again, because he was strange and new. It was only natural. He wasn’t going away. She was crying. Any human would back off. Aguero looked at his notes to avoid her teary stare, with his upper lip turned up too far.

She could see some of his sharper teeth.

Baam awkwardly unraveled part of his scarf, and he used it to wipe one of her cheeks.

It didn’t make much of a difference.

“When he told me he’s handsome I didn’t believe it. Ice demons are shiny. I don’t know what I am. Now that you're a woman do you like shiny things?”

His head cocked to the left.

She wasn’t paying attention to him.

He huffed. “Can you stop that?”

Am I being admonished right now?

When I’m clearly in despair?

I’ve never wanted a human friend more than I do right now.

An angry grunt pushed through her teeth. She rebelled in any way she could. Her eyes moved to the floor.

“What should I do?”

Baam was confused. “I’m not sure what you mean. I meant that you shouldn't look-”

She grabbed one of his shoulders, and her eyes did not move up. She really was starting to look insane. Clinging to him while ignoring him didn’t make any sense.

“You heard my theory. My ideas. This is about me. What should I do?”

Baam smiled. She didn’t have to see to know he was wearing one. Now that she wasn’t supposedly harassing Aguero he sounded normal again.

“The interviews haven’t yielded many specifics, but your records are telling. The truth seems to be…quite dark. This house is supposed to be an equal environment, built for human growth. It’s unfair that your human teachers don’t like you…”

Her eyes shattered.

“…the staff in charge are temporary for a reason. Humans tend to abuse unattached children. I can’t fathom why, because strength isn’t a must like it is for us. Your permanent record shows that none…”

She covered his mouth, with both of her shaking hands.

Aguero finished for him.

He assumed her desperate grabbing was some sort of sign of affection.

“They all hate you, and it’s highly inappropriate. The humans in charge here are supposed to be professional, and you’re not alone. You’re not the first late girl to be harassed. We unearthed a suicide plot that must be reported to the higher-ups in this Enclave. It was seven years ago. You wouldn’t know the victim, but her situation was similar to yours. No human friends. Favor form a demon, and pithy jealousy that should have been dealt with by the system we developed. It brings me no joy to know that vulnerable young humans are being stifled here.”

His eyes held no personal weight. He was upset because of statistics. Failure wasn’t an option for him. He was furiously writing detailed report after report, in his leather handbook. His work was no doubt going to improve the future.

“Bullying isn’t killing, until it escalates to that. A fascinating concept…”

Her tears dried up.

She screamed.

Everyone heard it.

“Fascinating!?”

Aguero looked at her purple face, perturbed, and he nodded.

“You’re very passionate.”

Her entire mouth tasted like vile salt. The tears within her were morphing her insides. She was never going to be the same.

The ground had grown freckles where her tears had dropped.

“Are you saying none of the teachers like me, so technically every adult is my enemy. All of them want me under watch?”

Aguero nodded, again. “Yes, and that means our suspect list is much shorter. I think I met the human that has to be trying to get rid of you. He’s one of the only people that could sign off on such horrible harassment, without getting charged. Now that we’ve got testimonies about more than one girl there will be no next time. Death should never be the proposed future for a human in one of these care facilities. That wasn’t the deal. In fact, it violates it.”

Her eyes were dry. “Uh-huh.”

Aguero was basically talking to himself, fascinated by the drams. “Ahem. I should keep it short. We’ll send word to him.”

Baam bit her hand, which had not moved away from his lips for a long time.

“Don’t ignore me.”

Now he’s mad?

“I’ll bring you to the meeting later. Have a sandwich and listen to some of the repeat offenders with me. I’ll be bringing them up soon. Who knew that the cycle isn’t perfect at preventing corruption?”

Everyone.

“I was shocked when I read the notes!”

I’m sure you were.

“Aguero, go away.”

He did. “Gladly. That much staring should be a crime.”

Bastard.

“Rachel?”

“What?!”

“If you have to meet all the people who hate you will you cry?”

“Maybe.”

He frowned. “You don’t have to chime in during the interviews. I just want you to commit their faces to memory. Human bullying seems to be very consistent. Like hunting, but all emotional…”

That sounds about right.

“…I don’t want you to get caught by a creepy stranger later.”

Neither do I.

“Ok.”

She sat down in her iron throne, and her eyes closed. She only committed the faces to memory, because that was all she could take at the moment. Baam had hurt her a thousand times more than the resentful adults in her life. He didn’t know. There was not a whiff of doubt in him. He didn’t look nervous, even though she never smiled at him. Not once during the hours of tedious interviewing.

She touched the bite mark on her palm.

She squeezed it too, until it actually did hurt.

The bloodless grooves began to sting, and a new heart grew in the cavern left behind.

There was no room for him in it.

What should I do?

Baam has made me a giant target.

A talent scout hates me, if Aguero’s state sanctioned bullying theory is correct.

Her tears were stony. Her face didn’t change this time, when the salt overflowed.

My dream was never going to come true.

My only friend is a shackle, and now I’ll never be trusted by my own kind.

What…can I do?

Imagining her future. A standard one bedroom apartment. A menial job, and forces that planned to keep her there. The unfairness of it all made her want to get violent, but that wasn’t her job. All violence belonged to demonkind. Defense and offense and dying was supposed to be their wheelhouse. She was supposed to be free of all that, but she had always been strange. Unable to accept safety and warm meals as the gift her ancestors saw it as. Her longing remained.

I knew it.

I would be better off outside these walls.

I’m not wanted, but I’m trapped here.

She did not eat.

Baam brought her a cookie.

“What’s wrong?”

Don’t ask me that.

If you don’t know I’m not sure if I can do it.

I can't...

No, I don't want to...

It was a painful realization. Ripping off a full body bandage would hurt less, but it had to be done.

You have no idea.

Baam jokingly pressed the sugar cookie against her lips. The interview process was about to end. Aguero had sent word to the main suspect. Her problems were not about to be solved, but unearthed. Put on display for all to see, and pity.

Look at that amazing, heroic demon.

He saved her from a lonely suicide under watch.

You can rely on the kindness of demonkind.

She took the treat from his playful hands before she bit into it. Eating out of them sounded like a disgusting idea now. Biting his hands in revenge wouldn’t work. He would like it. He liked her too much.

If she wanted to hurt him back she had to get creative.

He touched her hair.

“You’re frizzy.”

I hate you.

Her eyes did not move, and he liked that.

I don’t think I want to be friends with you anymore.

 

Chapter 8: Year 5 (☆☆)

I want to be alone.

Does that mean I have to lash out?

She blushed, in her seat. Unwilling to cry or fight with every paranoid ear out spying. Shame coated her like a blanket.

Her heart was full of mud.

There weren’t many options to choose from. Everyone with a beating heart hated her, and all of the girls her age were slowly filing out. Most of her neighbors had been removed from the suspect list. They were not at fault for isolating her. Adults and societal structures had turned their keys and puppet strings away from her offensive pink bow.

I have to look for a reason to stop.

I don’t think I want to be this angry.

She felt sick to her core.

Against all odds she tried. She wasn’t tied to her chair. That was just a feeling. Another psychological trick. Getting up, and peeking around the corner, led into a sea of eyes. Recognizing none of them made her angrier at herself.

How much of this pain is my fault?

I got so excited.

I always do.

Climbing walls.

Breaking the rules.

Not kissing ass.

I love it all, and now it got me exactly what they think I deserve.

Whoever they are.

She clutched her chest. If she knew any of those eyes, trailing back up the steps without her, maybe she wouldn’t be consorting with demons.

The most successful adults I’ve seen lie alot.

Guess I should get started.

Her posture righted itself, and she internally vowed to speak to the next person she saw. Even if that person despised her enough to lie to her no matter what she claimed. Even her heart didn’t know why she cut through the staff kitchen. Somewhere she had never been before. Walking past Baam didn’t feel like a good idea. She would hate it if her thoughts showed on her face, and he actually realized what she was grappling with.

It's very clean.

The temporary instructors who visited had to endure harsh travel conditions, so they were treated with special care. The kitchen meant for prepping their meals, and the heavier alcohols meant for adults, was white and cramped. If she had to guess a spare hallway had been converted into an extra kitchen. Her shoulder brushed against a brick wall, and her eyes locked on the back of a curly head.

Is that their special chef?

“Rachel?”

It felt weird, hearing her name come from someone else. She was more alone and lonely than she thought. When her throat cleared she tried to launch back into her daring plan.

“Do you know…”

“That’s enough of that.”

She went quiet.

He rubbed the back of his head, and he did not face her.

I’m supposed to be an adult too.

Why is it always me?

What do I have to do to get treated with common decency?

“Wait. Don’t cry.” He turned towards her, and the leather twine on his upper arm began to glow. The pure gold string inside it held light like a cradle. The way that she could. “I’m not trying to be mean to you, but I don’t think you should be running off. Sheesh. I know kids too well. Sometimes I think I should spend time with more demons my own age. I’m too in tune with this stuff, but that doesn’t mean I know how to fix your hurt pride. Hmm.”

She let him think, while she stared at the number.

His face looks older. That’s a first. That means he’s really, really old.

A Ranker. Number 117.

I should leave.

“I got lost on the way to the bathroom.”

“No you didn’t. If you want to cry you should do it with a mature old beast such as myself. Don’t my wrinkles make me look more approachable?”

He tapped his cheek, right around his crow’s feet.

No.

“Who are you?”

Rankers lead Teams. Is he in charge of Baam? How does it work? Does Baam do some of his scheduled monster killing, like an assistant?

Is he going to boss me around too?

“I’m visiting. My name is Jinsung, and I think the Watch Tower system is a little harsh. It might be my age talking again, but the Enclaves are secure enough. I’m not so sure about all these onion-like layers inside the human settlements. They used to look alot simpler, and Regulars like yourself did more. You look frustrated. Are you smart enough to figure out who your Locale Scout is? Running and hiding won’t do much good now. Humans are mean to orphaned kids. That’s just my experience. I don’t think any self-righteous posturing is going to fix that. Aguero was too cavalier.”

Her upper body moved, but her legs did not. There was no way to avoid the Ranker. Or even the conversation.

Being rude to someone in charge of protecting her was too audacious, even for her.

He stayed behind the chopping table, with the carrots. Away from her personal space. “Hello? It’s time to talk about your feelings.”

She balked. A demon capable of lying with kindness, like her instructors, wasn’t something she wanted to trifle with. The door was right next to her, but it was like a forest of thorns was blocking it. Roots were growing in her head, preventing her from moving. Despite everything, and her coddled lifestyle, her survival instincts were still very sharp.

“I…”

Lie.

“…don’t want to be in trouble anymore…”

Jinsung's hand moved down to his hip. “You should have thought of that before you started fooling around. You’d be under watch already if not for some good influences on Baam’s side. He stopped trying to sneak up sheer cliff faces with you because of us. I have no desire to see you splattered like jam on some random morning. The adventurous type isn’t always built for it. I have lots of good news for you though. Now that Baam has connections you can be escorted to more open trails, far away. You can even explore that frozen Enclave you came from. That’s a good option. The color white is better when it’s blanketed on top of everything. It’ll be really pretty.”

He was being indulgent, like he did talk to emotional kids all the time.

The tip of her tongue was bloody. “How often can I go?”

“I’d say once a year. New trails are always being carved out. Risk-takers like yourself should be the ones to test them out. Check the slope and such. Why, there was this one time. It was such an embarrassment. Six thousand bags of sand had been transported to create a path through this lovely orange flower field. It was going to be to die for. A great destination for the elderly in six. They couldn’t get up. I was livid, but an earth controlling Regular cut in some nice steps in about a day. Problem solving at its finest. I’d like to have more Regulars willing to help with that. It’s so hard to gauge what you need, and I hate wasting resources.”

It sounds like an adventure…

All of her fingers were twitching.

…but it’s not.

“If I’m not mistaken you’re asking me to go on a walk without you once a year.”

“Or twice. You’re such an eager young woman. I don’t see the point in stomping on your pride. I asked about your Locale because he tends to do that. It’s a shame when Regulars with powerful abilities get bumped to the top. He’s got a terrible personality. Rankers like me are allowed to gossip quite a bit. I’m certain you’d enjoy visiting me in six.”

He has a kind smile.

He’s here visiting Baam, someone I trusted until today. I was so willing to throw away that trust, for a few minutes, and now reality is here. It’s sobering.

It's telling me I’m overreacting.

“Did Baam tell you about me?”

“We know he has a human friend. I wouldn’t be dragging him off defence wall trellis balconies otherwise. You’re not laughing, and you’re not over-the-moon excited. There’s a path being built through black woods. A full grove of metallic trees. It’s going to be a hot spot near the Capital. Are you really telling me you don’t want to be one of the first people to go?”

The muck in her heart began to leak out.

“I want to be alone.”

Those words hung heavy in the air, like solid hooks. They could pin her down if she wasn’t careful.

“You’re not. Look at how lonesome you are, and that’s with Baam. You’ll meet other like-minded Regulars if you visit me occasionally. Wouldn’t you like to have pen pals and stories to share that don’t revolve around that uniform you’re wearing? Regulars with parents won’t give a hoot about what you once were. There’s a whole world waiting out there, Rachel. You don’t have to be all alone to experience it.”

Her heartbeat picked up.

She was being comforted, by an authoritative figure with alot of power.

In her imagination a metal tree looked like a living trap, and she did want to see it with other people who liked to venture outside.

“I’m afraid…I can’t accept.”

“Why not? I haven’t told Baam. You can shock him someday, with information he doesn’t know yet. Don’t you want to be well-traveled and worldly?”

Her imagination was too vivid.

That’s why she wasn’t falling for it.

She could see it. Fantastical spears of metal, ringed with deadly spikes, and wooden caution barriers. The root of the danger would be no more, replaced with beige and pink sand. Adorned with floating lights, so she could see better, and the mystery could be solved. Everything from the danger level to the internal structure of the odd wood would be resolved, by an enormous group on patrol.

There would be nothing left for her to discover by the time she arrived.

“I can’t impose on Baam’s friends. It would be impolite…”

She inched towards dangerous territory. Her tongue tapped an invisible line.

“…and I don’t know if we’ll be friends forever.”

Jinsung was too experienced to fall for her foolish provocation. He knew he had everything, and more, while she was about to stumble into adulthood with no clear path.

“If you don’t accept my offer you’ll be forced to deal with your Locale, who will never support you in anything. Unless you’re suddenly excited about living in a padded fruit field for most of your life. I wasn’t supposed to tell you anything, let alone give a position to you. You’d be a new type of Gatherer.”

New type?

“We’re calling it an Inspector. Analyzing plants and resources isn’t the main point of the job. It’s about finding the correct way to use the resources they gather, so more Enclaves can be built. More fun walking paths too. It is an honorable job. Perfect for passionate, prideful Regulars. Specifically younger ones that can handle a few weeks of travel. Are you telling me…”

“I would.”

He did not blink. His brown eyes weren’t very bright. He looked too perfect, in a different way. It was like he had walked out of the nearest lecture hall. The trustworthy teacher personified. Even now she felt no hostility, but she couldn’t shake it. 

He didn’t care about her, and being an Inspector sounded too good to be true.

So, it probably was.

“I would like to fight alone, and look the asshole who’s being bullying me in the eye. I’ve been threatened. I don’t want to close my eyes and walk away. That’s why I…”

She admitted it.

“…snuck out to question people who have already been interviewed.”

Jinsung had his hands in his pockets. It was much harder for her to identify him as a demon, without a uniform or shiny hair to tip the scale, and it her opinion that did not make him more approachable.

“Baam will be able to keep you out of the tower, but that’s about it. You’re rushing towards a very monotonous future, where you are a low-level Regular with a bad reputation and no family. The only thing you’ll have left will be Baam, and that’s not healthy. You’re mistaking your isolation for hatred, but it’s not his fault or yours. Taking on a more prestigious career is an easy way to jumpstart your life and bring new challenges into it. I’ll give you some time to think, ok?”

Her heart burned.

“Why. I said no! No!!!”

He looked slightly appalled by her bratty yelling. “Ack. Calm down…”

A hand touched her shoulder.

She recognized it.

The door was open.

“There you are! You can’t talk to Jinsung all day. We’re busy!”

We?

You took over, remember?

Her anger wasn’t gone. She had more to think about. More to lose.

Baam poked her side. Hard. Apparently, she needed to pay attention this time. Sitting in a chair wouldn’t be enough.

That actually made her happy.

She smiled. “What is it?”

His nervous side-eyeing made Jinsung just as interested as she was.

“They want you to go alone. I can’t come with you. A man in a mask came with a summons for you. I’m so scared…”

I missed it.

She tousled his hair joyfully. “Of course they want me. In the end this is my problem. Wish me luck.”

Baam looked lost. “No…”

Jinsung had left the table behind, to stand with them. Now that she wasn’t alone with him his approach didn’t come off as threatening. Everything about his kindness was calculated.

“I can go represent her, if she registers a request to be employed by me. I have lots of job openings for young Regulars. With that distinction they won’t be able to lock her away. I can vouch that she doesn’t need to be under watch.”

Baam tripped over his words. “Thank you…”

“Stop it.”

When Baam flinched she did feel like the bad guy. “I do not know Jinsung well, so I refuse to put my future in his hands.”

Jinsung’s eyes moved before he could stop them. It was noticeable enough, for her.

Oh, shit.

He hates me.

Good thing I didn't fall for it.

“…B…but…” Baam sounded like a broken faucet. “I know him…the cake, Rachel. They’re serious! I don’t want you to be unhappy. What if you cry every time I visit you? How am I supposed to live like that?”

She couldn’t shake him off. “You don’t have to, but I do! I’m the one who has to live my life. I have to do this on my own! What the hell is this?! Do you want me to hate you?!”

She heard him gasp, through the echos, like he was choking. Jinsung’s silent condemnation could not reach her.

“W-what? No. You’re not making any sense…”

Her upper lip curled with her bared teeth. “You took my letter. Give it to me.”

Her fingers opened wide.

The paper felt expensive.

Satisfying.

His extra-wide eyes made her feel better.

I did overreact, but my heart is right too.

I have to do this.

“Wait for me at the front gate. Send um…your friends home. I’ll be back. Bye, Baam!”

He didn’t wave back.

His empty hands were limp.

Chapter 9: Year 5 (☆☆☆)

To Rachel.

This is for me.

She scratched at it while she read the address. There was a song in her step. She made a beeline for an important, tall building. The sort of place little girls don’t go to.

A summons from the Talent Bureau.

If I have enemies there life will at least be interesting.

She was sweating too much, but that was good.

The worst case scenario was quietly becoming a menial assistant.

I’ve never been inside before.

The letter told her to arrive today, if possible. Not tomorrow or some other date, because it was a rare place. The Bureau was allowed to remain open day and night. Members of both species could be seen entering and exiting at any time. If you happened to be in the area, that is. Usually it wasn’t possible to see the faces of those on duty. The door was too far away. Her slightly cramped Enclave held some open zones, and most of them were private. The Bureau had its own plot of flat land. The hilly spot was unencumbered by flowers, beauty, and pomp. It was a place of work and progress. The very place where horses, gear, and hunters and gatherers congregated to receive their missions. Every Enclave had such a place. Children her age, with families and dreams, often watched those special Regulars get chosen. Plucked from boring lineups to be spirited away on adventures with doctors, scholars, and demon bruisers that could cut through monsters like paper.

I don’t have to peek this time.

She looked at the shiny stamp at the corner of the envelope. Again. The silver ink kept calling out to her. It had real metal in it. She was holding something with real value. Not a kind pittance afforded to all orphans for once. Tears very nearly leaked out of her eyes.

She was almost halfway there. “Woohoo!”

With that last burst of immaturity she found more speed. She was running away from her very self. Towards a story that would, if all went well, give her future color. Her pink skirts were about to turn grey. Plain, and she could not stand that.

Today, I will prove myself.

She didn’t stop for a tea, or any questions. Her fellow humans were innocently curious about her jovial jogging. The Patrollers nearby could sense she wasn’t nervous, and that made her even more confident. No one stopped her.

I’m grateful I’m being targeted by someone.

That means I get to stand out.

I’m closer to my dreams than I was before.

New adults with no prospective careers don’t visit the Talent Bureau.

I can’t blow it.

I’m passionate, and I don’t care one bit about dying in the wild.

I’ll do it, to experience life and enrich my Enclave.

Not every girl is a risk-taker like me.

There must be some value in that.

She jumped over a bench.

There must be.

She could see the tower, and scraps of the green flats around it. The Bureau was surrounded by row houses that belonged to valued families, and D&D operators. She did slow down a little, then. It felt odd to be surrounded by things like family history and stability. The children in this unknown neighborhood had opportunities she could not name.

Her letter bent.

This is my shot.

I wasn’t born in a golden cradle, walking distance from fame.

I cannot waste a minute on fear.

Or worry about why.

The gap between her, and the thousands of young Regulars in front of her, was ever growing.

She ran faster to beat it.

To make a more dangerous jump, to defy the boring and peaceful death promised to her.

There’s no guard.

She slowed down to a soft-stepped crawl.

I’ve never been this close before.

I see Patrollers every day, because they want to be seen.

They wave.

The guards present, out of sight, were there on purpose. Her coddled self was not used to being ignored. It was more unnerving than insulting.

The door is made of black metal.

How intimidating.

The dark grey stonework helped too. The shape of the tower told her what it was. There was no signage indicating she had arrived at the right place. She had learned the basics of the society she lived in through lessons. Only Bureau buildings are allowed to use oval stonework and doors. In order to step through you have to be fairly tall. An adult, or a very determined child. The shape did look impractical, up close. More like a portal than a door.

It represented a divergence from comfort. Hobbling through the misshapen doors was often a humans first experience off the beaten path. Many people had never walked over uneven land or tripping roots before. Finding the oval doors of a bureau building exciting was step one.

It meant you were interested in leaving the comforting embrace of society.

“Hello?!”

A mail slot opened in the middle of the oval slab of metal. The last obstacle in the way of many mysterious answers.

It was the perfect size.

She squished the stupid urge to hug the letter goodbye.

It slid through effortlessly. Her ears looked for footsteps, but instead she heard a gust of wind. It was carrying her message away, to be read by some guardian or secretary.

There’s a wind user on duty.

Neat.

I heard they can kill with the flick of a wrist.

She wanted to hop in excitement. Her letter was gone. The door clicked, like it was any other door.

Her presence had been acknowledged.

What do I do?

She had to push it, and she had to figure that out on her own. No one was interested in helping her.

Is this what being on the outside will feel like.

Uncertain, and strange?

The metal didn’t creak.

She had to lift up her skirt pretty high to enter. Her bow dragged over the lip of stone like a cumbersome leash.

That’ll be easier in travelling gear. No more girly clothes for me. I’m going to start dressing like a gatherer no matter what. Pockets. Long pants. Vests with lacing. I don’t want to see another bow as long as I live.

She touched a mosaic of identical obsidian oval stone.

How am I supposed to find, or even get to, where I’m going?

There was no room or office number listed. Only a generic summons, that didn't sound very urgent on paper.

The inside of the Bureau echoed the outside she so desperately craved, and that wasn’t symbolic. Important records and dangerous treasures were hidden out of reach of unwanted hands. Many of the offices and dormitories inside the Bureau were only accessible by wind or wing flight. A Demon could jump or crawl as well, but that was it. The sheer walls studded with oval holes were more inaccessible than an abysmally lonesome prison cell.

Her neck was starting to hurt.

“Stop looking up already.”

A man was admonishing her.

She rubbed her neck.

She did not apologize. That was the grace she chose to hang on to. “I…I’m here for a meeting!”

The same man wiggled his finger, to guide her over. It was patronizing but she had no other choice. She could hear voices, but those were all above her. She was only permitted to speak to and look at the Bureau members on her level. Unbeknownst to her the letter addressed to her only granted access to the first floor.

She wasn’t going anywhere near the top.

“Yes. I sent that over, but it was a white lie. I’m not the one you’ll be speaking with today.”

She was face to face with a talent scout. A beautiful man in a white robe. The metallic glimmers around his waist and wrist were braided precious metal string. The belt in particular was fabulously rich, and thick. Black tassels of silk were mixed with the tiny bands of gold. It looked like some holy polluted river.

“Do you like it?”

She nodded.

“Three makes metal mail and accessories. It’s a good place, chock full of stone resources. I visit all the time. Most of the fire talent I scout go there, and they always need an escort. Sometimes, those with talent do not like to be separated from their families. They do not like the fact that they have a duty. Some stupid, selfish Regulars still think demons can do creative work. Like that isn’t the reason why we bonded. Beautiful things are from us, and that means some blessed Regulars have to be mature about their gifts. Most days, I look like the bad guy. I count them all. More than half don’t like getting chosen by me. Having talent means work. Sometimes loneliness. Leaving the Enclaves beaten paths for the first time. You think you’re not like that, don’t you?”

It's not too arrogant to think I’m not like…half of people.

That’s not even special.

She nodded twice. “Yes.”

“Oh I hate bearing the bearer of bad news.” He had wide sleeves. He folded his elegant hands into them. “Walk with me, and realize your folly.”

She didn’t ask him about his equally beautiful rings. Those were folded away. She wanted to visit Three.

Folly.

I was a bad egg.

I broke rules when I was too cute and young to get in trouble, but what can I say?

I can’t imagine an obedient version of me in this hallway now.

His shoes were black and gold too. She saw the leather slippers, sparkling with gold, peeking out as he walked. The back of his neck was long, and pale. He had silky, flat blond hair. Which had been pulled into a high and twisted bun. She told herself not to be jealous, because he was a man.

“Aren’t you going to ask for my name?”

She was walking with him, as instructed. Her own rudeness make her cheeks burn. “Oops…hello…uh…”

“You’re so clumsy. Let’s see. How should I lighten the mood? I’m a water user, so I can’t go anywhere without a Ranker escort. The rain is our lake with me here. I’m also a talent scout because my blessed skills are admired by all. Since I’m so prized even the most arrogant younglings don’t look down on me.”

She was nodding, and walking, and stumbling. The ground beneath her was uneven. The oval path was trying to trip her up.

“It’s Hansung.”

She wasn’t interested.

He wasn’t the one she was supposed to meet.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you always stutter like an uneducated fool? Exactly how many classes did you skip? You lost your chance to become an apt public speaker to wander around in the swamp in your backyard. It’s a crying shame, and we’re already trying to think of ways to prevent more children like you. It’s too much of a waste.”

Her steps slowed, like he was stomping on her feet with his beautiful shoes.

She didn’t stop. “I’m curious! I…I want to go outside…I'm not...”

Evil.

He raised a thinking finger. “Yes. That. We have to stop that.”

A ball of crystalline water carried him through an oval hole. She was stunned to see water, the force of life, moving like a toy. She had to hobble through again, with her knees bent high.

“Why?”

“Yes. That too. What do you think lies out there, Rachel? Out in the great beyond?”

She only felt excitement. No one ever asked about her thoughts.

I knew I made the right decision.

Baam would only get in my way.

“Constellations I’ve never seen. New medicines. Trees with different shapes. I don’t know too much and I hate that.”

He didn’t stop walking, even though she was trying to stand tall for her little speech. It was supposed to be much longer. She had a lot to say, and adults never listened to her. Hansung was brisk to a fault, but that was bouncing off her skin like rain. He was interested in her and he knew about her. She wasn’t just a fly passing through these great walls unnoticed.

“How do I prove myself?”

He looked back at her, with nothing but pure disgust. His eyes were just like hers. He was another regular, and his eyes were the same color as his hair. Their powers were worlds apart, but that similarity made her feel like she was back home. Gossiping with someone in the dorm, before she became hated and marked by the bow on her back and her own strange actions.

Hansung had finally stopped walking.

Something he wasn’t supposed to do.

“I’ll tell you a secret, because it benefits me.”

She never looked away from his eyes.

That was their only connection. It was crazy but she felt like he would clam up, and start ignoring her, if she blinked. Her eyes were painfully dry, but she didn’t.

His smile was twisted. “Hunters and gatherers are not the only people who can go outside. Occasionally wealthy D&D badge holders come to see new discoveries. Products that can be used at their business. They’re always developing new services to sell to demonkind. To remain competitive the best, brightest and most influential go out. Sometimes far out, to find new ideas.”

She tried to look grateful, not confused. “Um, thanks but didn’t you read about me? I have no family, let alone enough influence to secretly join the hyper elite on a business venture. I’m….alone…”

“Stop mumbling.”

Her chin bowed down.

“Are you really alone? Really? My reports show a different story, and it’s not exactly a sob story. Remember what I said. Remember that you broke the rules, and you brought this on yourself. You think you haven’t gone far yet, but how many times have you left the path? Do you even remember? You’ve already seen poisonous flowers. Body-sucking bogs that used to swallow humankind for breakfast, and forbidden holes encrusted with ice. I’ve said too much, but it’s because you’re so frustrating. I have to escort you out as well, and I expect your face to be dry. No tears. No blubbering. That tidbit of advice is the only light of mercy you will ever see from me. No more mumbling either. That’s too obvious to be advice. No one will respect you if you continue to grunt like an animal."

She raised her voice. “Yes, sir!”

His billowing sleeves moved behind his back. He had brought her to another door.

Black metal again?

No...it's...what is it?

It was strange to her eyes. She kept blinking too much.

“Do you have the letter that opens this door?”

Hansung moved to the side. “There is no door. You have to close your eyes, and walk in.”

She didn’t believe it. “No way. You’re pranking me. You want me to mash my nose on stone. I won’t. Give me the key.”

Hansung reached out, but not towards her. Not to hit or punish her.

He reached into the void. “This is the darkness. The darkness away from any Enclave life. What is there when no paths are walkable, and society isn’t even a blip in a bugs brain. This is where predators lie weeping, given short deaths alongside their prey. Without even the comfort of a candle. If you really want to go outside, you will have to experience this. The one who called you here is waiting inside. You won’t see his face.”

Rebellion tore her eyes away from him. She lifted her burdensome skirt. Her skin began to glow. Hansung’s arm dropped in shock. Apparently, her pathetic ability wasn’t worthy enough to be included in his report. He backed away, before he realized her gentle light was harmless. Her ribbon flapped, and it became her set of wings.

The door was a trap. Not a straight line at all, but a twisted stairwell meant to trip up the new and fearful.

She waved at Hansung, like she was going on a walk.

Her light guided her from that point forward. She looked back. She wanted Hansung to be impressed, but he only looked embarrassed.

“I forgot about that. This test is yours. Bear in mind that the rest of your problems can’t be solved with a...skin lantern.”

He looked like he wanted to laugh.

As a water user he was far and away from her. Someone important enough to have a bodyguard at all times. Perhaps she was not the only wayward child being escorted by him today. He wasn’t her friend, but she couldn’t see the bottom of the steps.

She almost told him she didn’t want to go alone, but then her light took her away. Every step forward lit up more of the narrow hallway.

To her the darkness was just another path.

She belonged on it, because she was free of its influence. It did feel just like walking outside. It was uncanny. She could even feel wind.

She licked her finger.

A cold breeze was coming from the right.

The walls were closing in, but she kept walking. She asked not where she was, or where she was going. Her light took her away from her lackluster days of waiting for more. She looked for trouble, and she did not call out for help. She was panting. Back in her element. Looking for treasure and answers all on her own.

She hit an ocean of darkness.

Her light only lit about four arms out.

I’m in a big room.

The stairs are gone.

Is this the bottom?

She stopped.

Don’t stutter.

She assumed she wasn’t alone.

“Tell me why I’m here. Now!”

Chapter 10: Year 5 (●)

“Did you meet your Locale?”

A new voice.

A deep one.

For the first time she tried. Her hands flicked and she tried to spread her light further. She loved to use it on her secret adventures, but extending its reach would get her caught. She naturally, instinctively kept her light small. In order to sneak around in darkness much less intimidating than the walls around her. It hurt to spread a few more arm-lengths of brightness out. She didn’t have enough practice or experience to banish true darkness. Perhaps her regular blood would give her enough time, but that day was far off in the future.

For now, she was still a child.

He continued. “You don’t sound repentant.”

So Hansung is my Locale. The one in charge of approving all new talent, demonic and human alike. He bragged too much and I didn’t realize that.

I…am naturally rude.

If I was more polite would he have relented, and given me better advice?

I think he was merely calling me poor in a backhanded manner.

D&D ownership, and the special secret privileges it must come with, are of no use to me.

She crossed her arms. “If you’re a demon you’re not allowed to hide yourself! My Locale said I’m allowed to talk to you Mr. High-and-Mighty, so what’s with the smoke and mirrors?"

Her arms waved about haphazardly, but that didn’t help.

Her light just flickered, and her signature embarrassed blush took over her freckled face.

“C-come out!”

“You’re not supposed to see me.”

She stepped back twice. The oval stones in the stairwell pricked at her back.

“Tha…that’s illegal…”

“How convenient for you. All of the wrong you’ve done doesn’t warrant any punishment. Only extra care. Precious little regular, do you know where you stand?”

She didn’t want to lie. She needed to lay eyes on the only demon she had ever met who was willing to rock the boat. Any other would be in her personal space, in her bubble of light, in order to be identified by their uniform and Enclave-approved name. An ID badge should have been waving in her face. Baam keep his at his wrist, under his sleeve, at all times.

“…No…”

The voice boomed.

She had heard echoes before, in the educational halls meant for important subjects. Meant to house a thousand learning children in chairs at once.

All important buildings held an echo.

This one was the first and only to hurt her tender ears.

“This is one of the exit tunnels used by hunters and gatherers. If I left you here you would reach The Valley of Stars. A crystal mountain mined for raw accessory and armor materials. Your shiny doorknobs, candle-sticks, and promise rings come from there. It is a four days walk for a human or a weak regular. Many average citizens are not aware of the tunnels beneath them. They are just as important as the pathways above. This is how the weak access treasures from nature, without even setting foot under rain. The time spent outside is brief. Dangerous still, even for them. Every trip is costly in demonic power. Do you know who dies when humans go outside?”

She did.

“…no.”

“Lies.”

“Ok. Alright. Fine, it’s your kind.”

“Looks like you did go to class once or twice. That is why trips are so tightly controlled. You don’t die first. Someone else dies for you. It would take nothing less than a natural disaster for a regular to be eaten in this day and age. Travel isn’t forbidden, like you so clearly believe it is. It is a privilege. If you listened and learned you would know why.”

The wind touched her.

“Let me go alone, and I will give you anything you want.”

There was an offended silence.

“You shouldn’t say anything. It’s a bad word…”

“I know.”

“Humankind solidified many deals with us. Bindings that benefit all of you. Asking for more is dangerous.”

“Who are you?”

“That I cannot say, but I am…was working with your Locale…”

She wanted the wind. A glimpse of the interesting demon would be an extra treat, but her real goal was behind him. It was in her eyes. She was about to start rudely uh-humming him. Damn to his importance.

Get to the point.

He was in her way like all the rest.

“Do you want me to help you uproot corruption in the childcare system?”

He choked somewhere in the dark. “You’re overage…why would…Hmm. You do not know much. I’m sitting here thinking of what to share with you, so I do not overwhelm you. I’m not here to scare you, Rachel.”

The darkness gave no hints as to his location. She could have been facing the wrong way, for all she knew.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Perhaps I am lying, but I am not here to kill you. Troublesome young people do not get executed. They go under Watch.”

Her light dimmed. “Please, no!”

“Oh, hush. You interrupted with your stupid theory, but that gave me enough time. Your Locale will root up the corruption slowly and properly within a few years. He'll be getting rid of those…pink bows as well. Different uniforms make humans antsy. Even trained regulars. Ahem. As I was saying. I worked with your Locale on a special project. I requested the use of some land, and any path guards that could be spared. There is a cold hole near this Enclave. You visited it.”

Her heartbeat was in her neck. “I brought back an obedient patroller for you. You’re welcome.”

The darkness came closer. She was beginning to suspect that the demon right by her side was not in human form. Some of the darkness was moving. Fluid, even. 

She didn’t want to drown.

Her sass was not appreciated. He stopped lecturing her like he wanted her to learn. “I was cultivating a new Ranker, and you broke in. The guards on duty are bound to protect humans first. A group a worm monsters converged nearby less than an hour after you went off the path. Even the two following you for your safety had to fall back. There are few events more disastrous than a monster setting foot on a travel path. You looked…safe enough. That was what the two claimed, so desperately to me. You must have taken a random turn, and you fell right into a nest I created.”

She did consider apologizing.

He relayed the suffering she had caused him.

“We’re trying very hard. Demonkind as a whole owes the Enclaves too much. You could say we’re too entwined now. We need stronger demons. It’s a just and obvious and good cause, and we don’t love our children the way you do. The entrenched Rankers at the top are disappointed with the quality of their progeny. Soon, larger monster species will start approaching the society we have built. It’s too shiny and grand, but what can we do? It's what the people deserve. I’m not the one who hatched the plan. I was simply in charge of watching over it. Your tumble ruined ninety years of observation.”

He waited for her to say sorry.

“Ninety…whole years…you say?”

She didn’t want to think about Baam, or pity him. She was quite busy with the problem at hand. The wind.

“If you want him why are you talking to me?”

The Darkness groaned. “I have to go back to the drawing board because of you. He even had a name from his human father. We were trying to make a demon that can empathize with your kind more, but you ruined it. Now he’s just like any other, and the only human he’ll ever bond with is you.”

Her arms dropped. “That’s…a pretty altruistic project.”

Don’t let an Um slip out.

This is an adult conversation.

“It’s admirable that you’re trying to make friendlier demons.” That sounded mature enough. She had to find more strength.

An opportunity to reach the wind.

“It is for the benefit of all. What do you think uncivilized monsters would do to you, if given the opportunity?”

This conversation is getting too big for me.

“What kind of opportunity are you planning on giving me?”

If I’m not going to be a secret ear…what else can I do?

“My organization is called F.U.G and it’s a group of talented demons and Rankers interested in keeping order. About a century ago we chased off some troglodyte that wanted to be King. A Demon King. Unimaginable. Your kind must be able to create freely. People are not something to be hoarded. Don’t you agree?”

Why didn’t I hear about any evil Demon King in class?

“Uh-huh.”

Damn it.

“I knew you’d agree. After ninety years of work Vi…I mean Baam does have more potential than most. You drained away some of it, but I would still like him to be part of the first line of defense. Somewhere in One, most likely…”

She ran. Her legs pumped. Her light began to spread. She was in a tunnel. One lined with pillars shaped like enormous flat diamonds. She could see their huge and intimidating shadows, but not the demon in charge of the group of freaks who had once experimented on her only friend.

“He’ll never leave his friends.” She mumbled that to herself.

“Yes, he will.”

The wind left her. Instead she felt silk wrap around her ankles. Then, her thighs. Her flailing arms looked even more ridiculous.

No.

Where am I now?

Why am I so blind?

I have light at all times.

Night doesn’t even apply to me.

This is unfair.

The ribbons were not trying to harm her, but they lifted her up. Away from her longtime dream of seeing her mysterious world.

“Nooooo!!!” Her cries were loud enough to annoy the dead.

“I thought you learned your lesson.”

“You were wrong.”

“I was.”

“If you don’t want me, and I’m in the way, let me go. Baam will search for me, and he’ll become the most well-traveled and kind demon around. He’s good at taking notes. You’ll get plenty of information from him. Lie to him. Say I got myself lost, because I went out without him one last time before becoming an adult.”

The Darkness laughed. “He would never believe that. The Watch is already on your back. Don’t you want to listen to me, in exchange for the freedoms you have? You’re about to lose them.”

“I…I am?”

“It’s your own fault.”

Is it?

“Baam has an unusual aptitude for sewing peace between demons. If left alone his team could grow as large as mine. He’s missing the loneliness that could potentially make young demons more willing to learn human emotions. I theorized it would take at least two centuries of total isolation for a demon to be grateful for any company. I don’t need annoying, young competition. I need a generation of demons that can stay indoors without killing each other. Without coveting who has the best resources and humans. It was just the beginning, and now my team has even less faith. How dare they suggest we "move on". It seems like all demons are destined to have small hearts.”

She felt disgusted by his soft touch. He was babying her and complaining and talking over her. He was the embodiment of everything she wanted to escape.

“That’s not normal. Humans aren’t totally magnanimous either. It’s impossible to protect everyone.”

The Darkness didn’t like that. “That’s why I’m in charge and you’re not. What an awful thing to say. I need to show off my first successful experiment. More demons die than you think. Our penchant for violence is our biggest downfall. He’s a failure to me, but there’s still a seed of progress. A way to show that a tunnel for raising proper young demons is the way to go. They should earn light. That's my firm belief. You will tell him to go to One without his friends. He will listen to you. In exchange you will not go under Watch. Your Locale will give you a useless paperwork position at the Water Spout bridge. From there you will get a nice view of the great outdoors, through the mist.”

She hissed. “Though the mist? Is that all I get?”

“Is that not enough?”

“Are you stupid?”

“No.”

He’s still a demon.

He doesn't understand.

“I’m not scared of the wind or some shadows. I…I still want to go!? Are you telling me Baam gets to travel, and I don’t? You’re using me. What am I getting?”

“Your li…”

“I DON’T HAVE A LIFE!!!”

Rage pooled in her mouth with drool. It flowed out between her teeth, and her eyes began to shine brightly.

It was sudden.

The sun came down into the tunnel.

It was very temporary, but it revealed all the smoke and mirrors. The demon behind their secret meeting was wearing shadows instead of clothing. He had a generous chest for a male, and his long hair oddly blended into other parts of him. His skin held no color and his purple eyes were glowing lilac bright in her light.

“My name is Luslec.”

Finally.

“If you have something to give me you can have anything you want in exchange. I don’t you’ll find that something though. You’re too soft.”

I am.

I was raised that way.

I should hate Baam, but without Hansung I wouldn’t know what to do.

I would stand here crying, and I would give Baam one measly order that doesn't benefit me. Claiming I want him to send me letters about his travels, because I cannot go. That would be cruel enough, but not really.

Meeting that boy has shown me how little I am.

Despite all my dreams Luslec will never even acknowledge my desires.

If I do as he says that’s not enough to be worthy of a favor.

I am not enough.

“You said you’ll make Baam a Ranker.”

“I will. It’s the minimum of what he can achieve.”

I should be jealous.

She was on her knees. Screaming had tired her out. Luslec wasn’t holding her anymore. Her light was slowly receding. Coming back to her, from far away. Even then she could not see the exit or feel the wind. All she had achieved was a name and a face.

“I want a D&D badge.”

Luslec looked surprised. She had to cling to that expression.

“Don’t raise your eyebrows at me. It’s not a shock. I…hate Baam. I won’t sell him away today. I’ll lend him to you on the surface. He doesn't have to know I'm sacrificing him. I want Hansung, my Locale, to step in and terrify him. I want him to feel smaller than a bug. I want him to know he can do nothing to save me, and I’m about to be dragged into the Watch Tower. Where I will kill myself. I will threaten to do it, over and over, which would force the Watch to sedate me as soon as I arrive. Then, Baam would never be able to speak to me. I’ll say I’ll never forgive him for giving me hope. For putting on a big show, and daring to claim he could help me. He will drop everything to earn money for me, because it’s the right thing to do. I know he knows my peers were jealous of me, all because of him. It’s foolish that he thought his influence could shield me. He was too arrogant. If you want a kind demon I’ll give you one. Ill tell him to befriend everything he meets, in order to get more missions. Within a few years you’ll be able to claim that your grand project didn’t fail. I’m confident that he can pretend to be nice forever, if he’s tied down by guilt. I did give him everything, and I will force him to look at the suffering he caused me. It doesn’t matter if its all a lie, right? There are endless monster hoards to face, and I don’t want to do paperwork or live in a tower. I’ll say anything to get more. If you won’t free me I want to be powerful. Not some orphan. I can be convincing. I have the conviction only humanity possesses. He’ll feel it in his bones, until the stubbornness in them chips away. I, Rachel who named him, will suffer if he doesn’t give up everything. It doesn't matter if I "interrupted" when you claim he was your first...survival. If he starts to show improvement. Compatability with humans...your fellow Rankers will have to be impressed! If he becomes a model new demon in um…what was your team?”

“F.U.G is a ranker alliance. Our groups are the first to face new monsters.”

“I see. What do you think? I get the badge. He has to pay for it. That should keep him acting nice for some time.”

“Possibly your entire life. Those badges are too expensive on purpose. It's a good shackle.”

Her light had faded. It was completely dead.

Luslec was thinking in the dark with her. “Regulars live longer. That’s enough time to get a new generation of demonkind out into the world. Deal.”

I did it.

Isn’t deal a bad word, though?

Chapter 11: Year 5 (●○)

“So, you have been returned to me.”

He looked smug, but she wasn’t offended. Not yet. She suspected that the smirk on his lips was permanent. More like a tattoo than a feeling or an expression. Regulars with important, useful blood blessings often held an air of arrogance.

“I’m back. When will I see…that man again?” She had to show him she could be discreet and mature.

Hansung laughed. It was short. Like the bark of an animal in the middle of the night.

“You will never see “that man” ever again. You are to behave as if you have received all of your orders from me. It is fortunate that you saw things my way. The Watch is truly the end, you know. It’s living like you’re dead, down to the essence. Troublemakers go there along with the infirm, and I’m sure a smart girl such as yourself has realized the true purpose of such isolation. It’s a kind word for prison, but look at you. You’ve finagled your way out, into my waiting arms.”

She inched back towards the hole from whence she came. “I am not hugging you.” Her disgust did not close his open arms. “I mean it.”

His small nose twitched. “Hey, dummy I’m standing on a ball of water. Get on. You don’t have to hold me if you’re that confident in your balance.”

She had to cover her face in shame. In her glow of victory she could barely see, so the surging crystal below his feet had escaped her eyes.

“Sorry.”

“You should be. I saved your sorry self, and this is how you act. The next thing to behave like you will receive years of generous training and reeducation. Ahem. If you don’t want to grab onto my belt we can hold hands. It'll make me look bad if you break your neck.”

She looked up, and up at the hollow vein of stone above. Even the lowest hole was further up than most bird nests.

“…I’ll hug you…”

“Say it without spitting on the ground.”

“I…I’m just embarrassed about overreacting…”

“Hmph.”

She stepped closer to his shining form. The water below him revealed the truth behind his fine appearance. All of his robes and bits and beautiful pieces were made of or infused with metal. No knife held by a Regular could hope to pierce him. Only an axe would make the slightest dent.

It's cold.

His thick belt bit into her stomach when she hugged him. Her clothes were liable to tear if she moved too much. After that her skin would be forfeit.

We’re going…slow?

Is he kind or not?

The crystal ball pulled her up with him, and she got the treat of flight for the first time in a long time.

“I heard you scaled to the very top of these walls with Baam.”

“I did.”

“I fly the same way. The stairs are a dank bore. The sky is better. See to it that you don’t get in my way, and I may see more of your charm points.”

She looked down instead to towards him. In her heart she knew she had a long way to go. She did not implicitly feel trust for him, the way she did with Baam. It was sucking away much of the joy of flying.

She stepped off quickly.

“I don’t have to be charming. I own a Demon Day Operation.”

“Not yet you don’t.”

“I don’t think you can go against “that man’s will” unless you want disturb the peace.”

“Talking like you're clever is one of many steps. You’re on the stairs, but take care not to fall down. I was trying to gift you more friendly advice, you nasty little ingrate. You may have a badge, but you must hold it. All but literally. Getting one without the backing of some discovery or large family is unheard of. I honestly recommend that you carry it in your pocket always. You do not have a recognizable face. Most D&D holders have grey or white hair. Somewhat grey skin, and the ability to create useful things. Its not just unlikely but inevitable that your identity will be questioned in the future.”

She gulped in dry air. “Why are all the Operators from the same…line?”

“Being old has its perks, and keeping things in the family packs more on. It’s said that the Greys live longer than most Regulars too. You are not wholly alone. Across all the Enclaves about ten Regulars have grasped onto new badges.”

That’s not alot.

Less than one per Enclave.

“Don’t look so frightened. The Greys aren’t one big happy family. Actually, referring to them as such is a mite derogatory. You did not steal anything. Some houses cleared for D&D usage are always empty. There are never enough Operators to go around. Its a lot of power and influence to have, and it can’t be given to too many people. That would be illogical since the Enclaves don’t want their friendly demonic helpers indoors too often.”

Luslec’s strange goal rang in her head.

“Ahah yes that is obvious!”

Hansung glared at her solidly until she turned away. Then, he finally started walking to the right desk.

The Demon Day Operator Badge Clearance desk did get used. The Greys aged out and changed like all Regulars, and they had children that needed to learn their exclusive trade. Seeing a Grey mop of hair in charge smacked of corruption though. Rachel could not wipe away the frown on her face.

Does he think I’m stealing a house from some future young Grey?

“My name is Evan.”

I don’t hear a rude tone.

“I’m older than I look. You probably haven’t met many Regulars my age yet. I will be stamping your badge today, and since you don’t know anything I will spare no details. This is not a celebration or a promotion as usual. I am here to educate you and show you that a large learning curve is waiting for you.”

She nodded.

Hansung elbowed her side. His bone struck true, right under her ribs.

“Argh! Thank you sir!”

Evan went on. “Your badge will be the only one of its kind. That’s how it always is. It must be impossible to forge. Our demonic friends are unable to touch iron without some pain. Sliver without a lot of pain. Your badge is made with a special metal called Palladium.”

A new word.

It did interest her.

“It is beautiful. A stronger shade of sliver than silver. Your name will be engraved upon it, as well as the address of your first house. Most Operators only ever have the one. It’s a monumental task, and a privilege, and a challenge to ask about the needs of demonkind. They still do not know much about themselves. Every name held by a demon has come from a human mouth at some point. Some will want to touch a certain fabric, and it will be your job to procure what our protectors want as their reward. Fabric is but one easy example. Rejection is a standard you must set for yourself, and if I may say this Enclave has a large amount of Operators. If you would like to stick to more low effort requests I doubt you will run into any issues. We all, including you, receive a coffer every month. A chest which can be hoarded, used, traded or invested in ways to please your clientele. If having lots of money motivates you that’s a good thing. One satisfied client is worth more than a thousand, because unmet requests simply move onto the next house. Your clients will be patient but relentless. Never undercharge for time spent in your house. Never refuse random inspections. Those are there to keep you safe. Not to get in the way of your business…”

This is…alot.

“If you’re overwhelmed I will not be offering any condolences.”

She straightened her shoulders.

“Your badge alone will be worth more than a house that belongs to a Regular. You have no right to complain.”

Her legs didn’t tremble. “I won’t.”

Evan got up.

She was amazed at his height.

He was much shorter than her. He undeniably looked like a working man, with his beady eyes and his fit arms, but he was more than a head smaller than her. A shock, because she wasn’t tall herself.

“I will go light the forge. The engraving will take all day. You are not to move from this spot. That goes for you too Hansung. She can’t get around yet, so you’re stuck.”

Hansung just smiled.

“I’m aware.”

“Good. Rachel?”

“Yes, Evan?”

“Palladium can be melted down after it is forged. Your badge is a solid brick of one metal. Some like to encase it in custom glass, and wear it around their necks. Even more have it affixed to their belt with buckles made of cheaper metal. It is easy to destroy. With this badge comes a life few can dream of. If you are easily tempted you have damned yourself in a kind world that was built to protect you. Your badge will be part of your body. It can burn with you. Do you understand?”

I do.

You’re not really beating around the bush.

“I will wait patiently.”

Evan left to go visit the forge, which was far out of sight. Only three Operators knew where the expensive Palladium ore was stored. He had delicate work to do, and Rachel could feel a long wait coming.

She sighed.

Hansung was lounging on a comfortable looking blob made of water.

“He knows almost everything, so tell me how cruel you can be.”

She had to sit on the cold ground. Her light wasn’t necessary. The windows behind Hansung were huge, and the world looked brighter than before. A vegetable market was setting up down there, three streets away.

I did it.

I took the opportunity.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Are you a good crier? Most demons can’t tell when tears are fake, but Baam knows you. You have to send him off on a mission like you mean it. He will be picked up as potential talent for…the organization you were told about, and he cannot get suspicious. Demons with friends are a bother.”

She had more pressing questions. “Which house am I getting?”

“I don’t know. One of the ones on Clemency Street I believe. Those are the smallest and easiest for new blood to manage. Quit tapping your foot like you’re wagging your tail. This isn’t a game, Rachel. Have you…perhaps been dreaming of hurting Baam? A little sadism doesn’t hurt but I have to know what I’m dealing with. Hasn’t the weight of the task at hand hit you yet?”

She looked up at the intricate oval ceiling. The uniform shapes blurred in her vision, too numerous and entwined for her eyes to absorb.

“I don’t think we were going to be friends forever.”

“Demons are loyal if nothing else. Where did this doubt come from?”

“You’re human too Hansung. We don’t see our demonic friends alot. Our paths will always be different. The only people that work directly with demons are Hunters and Gatherers. Operators like…me only see the same demon client once a season. During Anlace demonkind might as well not exist. We don’t see any of the adults for four to five months. Baam was the exception. A little kid that could spend time with me, another child, when I needed it. That won’t be the case in another few years. He's already got a team with females in it. I saw one from a distance. I mean…doesn’t the change every spring reach you too? The bonded demons and little ones left can barely cover all the guard posts. I think Baam has been breaking the rules to see me so often when it’s hot. Maybe I don’t want to watch him slowly leave me, as we grow into different creatures.”

Hansung was half-hidden behind his sleeves. “You were destined for The Watch, and you will shut up now. Our unity can’t be as fragile as you say. You just can’t be confident in the bonds you have, because you know how lackluster you are. Please do channel that inferiority into your tears.”

Her hands were getting dirty. The hall that led to the forge was littered with black dust.

“I will.”

He took a nap.

She still had questions.

“Hansung.”

“Are you ready to start planning, or do you want to babble out treasonous spew again?”

Her chin was on her knees. “I think I’ll tell him how I really feel.”

Hansung rolled in his bed, and he rubbed his forehead. “Why are you so intent on losing…”

“I won’t. That will hurt him more than anything.”

Hansung opened one lazy eye, to scowl at her. His lips scrunched like he was about to yell at her some more.

He didn’t.

I’lI be okay.

Instead he pondered her crouched form, while the fires of the forge burned down below.

I don’t need Baam, and he doesn’t need me.

She didn’t know it, but the flames were dancing in her eyes. Drowning their pale color with bloody dye.

She wondered if he saw an equal.

His watery throne told her that wasn’t possible. She was just one fish in a grand pond, but then he relaxed. He unfurled to consider her with his silky hair all askew, after hours of waiting with her, in the ember-filled light.

“Maybe I should trust you. Let me make one gentle, painful suggestion. You, currently, have been summoned away by the head of the talent scouts. Me. Time infects all wounds, for demonkind. That’s a secret I happen to be privy to you. I’ll let you say whatever you please when you see him next, if you wait with me for a year.”

Her glowing eyes darted towards the sparks of her precious badge.

He smirked with his entire face.

He almost looked ugly.

“Yes, that means a year without your badge. A year of proper learning, in a private place. The Scouts live in a lavish dorm, and they’re all humans or Regulars. Demons rarely enter, and the truth is they’re not welcome unless a crime is committed. It’s the place most divorced from demons. Where we dedicate our time to searching for humanities next steps. You are unknown. Touching that badge will make you known. Come with me, for a short time, instead of being brash.”

“…isn’t…that what brought me here?”

“It did but you could get burned at this rate. You should learn more…I…erm…consider it an apprenticeship…” He faced the window. With his heels crossed.

“An apprenticeship?”

For me?

Someone who had no offers?

“You wouldn’t become a Scout. I don’t want you. Your light has no purpose, but you have to be alive to bait Baam with your stupid plan. What better proof is there? You can say I imprisoned you for questioning and reeducation, and you failed and will be sent to The Watch. Blahblahblah. The plan will go off without a hitch then. I am obligated to help as a supporter of F.U.G and all.”

It was generous.

She wasn’t used to that.

Her heart raced towards the future.

“Can I still take my badge?”

His shadow grew. “No. It will bear your name, but you don’t have to take on the responsibility yet. Evan will be obligated to keep your house empty, and the badge in his desk. Ready for pickup. I’m important too. I can demand things. The Palladium is an accursed metal. Demons can sense when you hold a badge. Touching you can hurt them. It's not wise to take such a power quickly, without thinking or planning. Do you think you’re ready? Are you too foolish to see past the bridge of your huge nose?”

If he's worried for me I must prepare myself.

She thought about it.

Baam will worry about me a hundred times more.

“I’ll go, but I want to hear Evan make that promise myself before we leave.”

“Of course.”

Chapter 12: Year 6 ($)

“What did you learn today?”

A mantra.

One she took seriously.

In the care of the Scouts she was allowed to ask more questions, and learn about plants. She had very recently learned that grass could be edible, and delicious, if prepared correctly. The outside world was starting to feel more like a smorgasbord, instead of a monster infested wasteland. She had tried her hardest to learn everything from the ground up, and she was still there. Reading about roots. The scouting records were vast and thoroughly organized. Every poisonous plant seemingly ever had been identified and eradicated inside the walls and beside known paths. Her rule-breaking was more dangerous and interesting than she knew. A few missed steps could have blistered and ruined her skin.

Or her heart.

Her stupidity was starting to become undeniable, even though she loved her free childhood memories.

“I’ve been diving deeper into herbology.”

Hansung drank some coffee. The smell was too strong for her, even though he was ten steps away. He was mad for it. He never seemed to sleep either. She always met him in his round, wood lined office once or twice a month. He had more energy than her always. Another noticeable and admirable Scout trait. They were ever busy and also older than her. That left no room for attempted friendships. Only admiration.

The slurping stopped. “Don’t tell me you trust mother earth. You are fed because of cultivation and team efforts too large for you to comprehend. The hundred Scouts for this Enclave are the biggest organization you’ve seen, and even now your eyes are too wide. Almost a year has gone by, and you haven’t learned what I wanted you to learn.”

That was such a nebulous idea.

She did not care one shred about it.

You’ve never been clear about what you expect of me, so why should I dwell on it?

Arrogant bastard.

Hansung seemed impossible to please, and she saw the opportunity she had for what it was. A way to learn. A Scout, naturally fearful of change, was more her enemy than anything. Hansung wanted her to find reasons to be afraid, and yet every week she found new ways to survive in the woods.

“Once I get my badge I’ll start making arrangements to join a Gatherer group on a trip. I can pass any written test…”

Hansung was staring into his coffee. “What good will writing do when you hear a rustling in the bushes? You have no caution. You haven’t matured at all. I’m only happy because you’re simple enough to be entertained for an entire year inside one block of buildings. With a yard. Are you sure you care about adventure?”

She looked out and away, past the cathedral windows into the flat and lush gardens that separated the Scout Dorm from the streets. “Baby steps are important. I do know more now. I need to establish myself before I start asking for big favors. It doesn’t hurt to quietly plan ahead though.”

“You’re not quiet.”

“The other Scouts don’t know what I want. I haven’t told anyone anything. It’s none of their business.”

“They know. You’re very embarrassing.”

Her legs melted from shame, causing her to slump in her seat. “Why is everyone in here so damn nosy?”

“It’s our job. I'll have you know forty-two refguees were denied entry this month. These are humans who wish to leave their original Enclave for petty reasons. Oh, no my divorce was messy. I don’t like my neighbors…”

She started to zone out, but then Hansung bit out her jugular.

“You’re the same. Some whiny Regular. You could still get denied in a snap. Do you even know what services you intend to provide with your Day House?”

She let him change the topic. It hurt to hear that her longing was seen as a petty problem, much like a bad breakup.

“I already told you at the beginning of the year. Hair styling. Perfuming. A small bath house with privacy. The local demons will like it.”

Hansung was playing with his empty green cup. A habit of his. He has deft hands. He did not drop things. His thick waist belt was always pressed. He was wearing threaded orange beads over it today. His loose white robes were more comfortable than her skirt, but he remained neater than her.

I should air dry my clothes better.

She wasn’t used to wearing adult outfits yet, after a lifetime of uniforms. Looking different was a jarring joy. Her accursed bow was gone just as she had dreamed of. The stinging from her peers had gone like a lie. Leaving Baam behind was her only regret. She was drowning, or rather swimming, in information and new experiences. Her black skirt was freedom, and Hansung’s platitudes could never hope to erase the fuzzy feeling in her chest.

The tapping of the cup didn’t break her gentle smile.

I’ll read three more books before I sleep tonight.

“Oral history hides important facts from paper grinders like you. If, and only if, you had the wherewithal to ingratiate yourself with your neighbors…you would know more. Instead, you isolated yourself in yet another fantasy. You’re beyond help, but you did your job.”

She wasn’t listening.

He rolled the cup off of his sharply shiny desk on purpose. The smashing sound knocked alertness into her eyes.

“What?”

He looked at her with false pity.

“I took away your choices. Didn’t you realize anything? Why aren’t you angry with me?”

She wanted to rub her eyes and check if she had fallen asleep in the Records Room again.

“I…have a future to look forward to, and nobody but Baam talked to me before. I don’t hate these meetings with you.”

Admitting that felt too tender.

Hansung rubbed his forehead. “Don’t pretend to be nice and grateful…”

I really wasn’t.

“I am the Locale, not some middling office worker. Don’t I have a reason to distract you from the one thing that makes you important?”

Dread started to set in, because she wanted to be important on her own. The shards of greenish ceramic on the floor looked like hollow bones.

“Baam already joined hands with F.U.G and you’ve been regulated to an afterthought. It will go as I said. You blame him and ask for reparations, but his grand quest to save you is already happening. I didn’t want you to accidentally say the wrong thing. You’re not here because I gave you a chance. Isn’t being out of sight safe what you hate about this life?”

Change can’t happen overnight.

Maybe I’m not special, but I’m here.

Her head bowed.

She tried, and not looking at the floor saved her. Looking humble was hard “Thank you.”

His chair slid back loudly. “Ew. Never thank me again…and…and get your fakest tears and screams ready. You won’t be seeing me for two months. I decided that you will move into the Watch Tower for those two months. It’s got to be convincing.”

I’m not crying.

I have been learning.

I know I will be free.

It'll come.

“Where are you going?”

He slowly twisted his ponytail into a bun. “I’m married and now’s the time of year that my wife remembers I exist. She’s outside a lot. No, you’re not going to meet her. No, she would never teach you anything. Go pick fruit with the invalids. Obediently.”

She was standing too close to the desk. “Do you want me to hate you?”

“Yes! I don’t want you to act like you know me when I’m done with you. That thing you found is a great investment though. Thank you for your service. Goodbye!”

She didn’t move. “What’s going outside during Anlace like?”

“You’re not shocked.”

“Well, you’re handsome so…”

He oiled his hands. A habit of his trade. The Scouts, who inspected dangerous things and people, had to constantly inspect their hands for smoothing oil.

Any mark could be deadly.

She wanted to borrow some for her trip, but the right time to ask had not come.

The slick sound was a bit gross.

“I’m handsome. That’s part of the deal. Indeed, you are capable of listening. Only the very prettiest citizens get spirited away. I can pinch your cheeks to make them even fatter and redder if you’d like. I can’t let you lose your one advantage in this life. That’s why you didn’t receive any fitness training. You’re so comfortably ugly.”

She had half a laugh for him. “That’s the one comfort of it, yes.”

His hands didn’t stop. “Yes. I’m heading out, and you are to wait by the back gate. Grab a hood. Cover up. You don’t want to be recognized when you’re set free later. The humans have to think the Watch Tower is permanent. That’s what feels rightest and safest….just like being ugly.”

He kicked on his sandals, because he was often barefoot in his office.

“I’ll visit when you open.”

She didn’t expect that. “Thank you.”

“My nosy people told me you really listened, and you never snuck out. Even when I was away rooting out the dangerous from the beneficial. I must fully dedicate myself. You could have gotten away with it.”

“I didn’t because I don’t want Baam to find me, and I had no idea he was already with F.U.G in another Enclave. You…could have told me. I’ve had time to digest and get even more excited about life.”

He looked past her.

She was accidentally blocking his exit.

“I’m going first. Come on.”

She did come. He had a tendency to bark when he ordered people around. Following his back made her feel soberly grateful, considering the season that was coming.

It wasn't pity, but she was glad to not be in his shoes.

Going outside during the chaos is totally different. I do have to respect his sacrifice. Being friends with a demon yields all sorts of benefits.

Love is another matter.

The sun was beating down.

Hansung’s neck was too white. He spent too much time indoors.

“How do I look?”

They were in the tallest and least neat part of the garden. The viny fence that framed the exit. The only place to hide halfway, inside the nosiest walls around. When the rustling air disturbed his hair it looked even more brightly blond.

She tripped over herself, and she wasn’t good at compliments. “Very handsome!” She chirped it. Lost it. It was a flunk of a compliment.

He wasn’t satisfied, or he was trying not to laugh. He was biting the inside of his cheek. The thin shadows around them were conspiratorial.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

She didn’t want their last conversation to be too painful, so she tried to guess his next move the way a Scout would. “Wait. Is it that I’m not important, and the greater powers that be only care about raising Baam?”

He didn’t fix his hair.

“Halfway.”

She couldn’t see one of his eyes.

“You fail.”

He was faster than her, with training to match. Combat belonged to special Regulars like him. When he touched her neck it was cold and smooth the way water is. Her body only had time to lean back. Not to react. Her expression remained blank in that flash.

She looked brave.

Another shadow appeared.

“Sir! I would advise that you do not touch anyone!”

She was panting. Waiting for a slap. The ring of pressure didn’t worsen or loosen.

Hansung left.

A patrol demon that had previously gone unnoticed left with him.

“I…”

She had fallen on her ass.

Forgotten, in the dust.

I didn’t know people get followed inside during Anlace.

That’s scary.

Chapter 13: Year 6 ($$)

Hansung was her only necessary goodbye. Her dorm neighbors had done little else but spy on her. During her stay she had realized that being ignored is better than being a target. Her heart had grown addicted to polite nods and unlimited outside time.

My dedication did pay off.

It doesn’t matter if the plan started without me.

Baam didn’t find me. In spite of his constant annoying successes I held up my end of the bargain.

She felt successful. Her head was swelling, unbeknownst to her. Her attitude had turned towards “every man for himself” before she even knew it.

I’m excited to get my badge.

Yelling at Baam is the last step.

She left her door key on the dresser. She had three outfits and six cloaks. The darkest one swallowed her up.

Avoiding going under watch is more than worth it.

That was in the background of her strange quest. Temporary imprisonment over the real deal was the most obvious choice on earth.

I don’t have to pack.

I think people under watch have to wear certain clothes.

I’ve heard rumors.

I’m sort of disappointed that I have to go at all, just to be convincing.

She slapped her cheeks. The infirm reflection of her in her only window was melting away. There were very few traces of her in the corner she had been granted.

When she closed her door she became solid again.

Real.

She no longer had to hide, for some plan.

When I get my property I’m taking the biggest room.

It’ll be wonderful.

I’m sure Baam’s team is taking care of him.

She galloped to the gate. Her eyes were instinctively looking for the same uniform Baam wore in her memories. The beige was easy enough to catch, but she did not find it.

Her escort was not what she expected.

A single woman, with a dome of extra blond hair on top of her head.

“I’m here to take you to the transient area.”

She sounds older than me?

“Thank you. Who are you?”

“How docile. They really shut you up with that badge. Are you ready to act crazy?”

The woman, a stranger, had immediately decided to say a bunch of things she wasn’t allowed to say.

Rachel balked.

“Tell me who you are, or I’m not going with you.”

“My name is Apple, and I’m half-sure I got my position because of my name. I watch peaceful, messy people pick fruit. When I’m not doing that I’m watching the transient floor. You are going to stay there, on the ground floor. Away from the main orchards. You will be listed as “under observation” and you will do what you were told to do. I am not aware of what that is, and I am not your friend. Nor your ally.”

She did not nod.

It sounded like Apple was reading from a list. Her purple lips were barely moving. She had stiff and broad shoulders. She wasn’t entirely slim, despite not being fat. Her breasts had been flattened by tight layers, and her dark pants looked like they had been sewn on.

“If I may…can I ask if I look unique like you?”

Apple’s dark eyebrows were her only source of expression. “You need to improve. It looks like you’ve been wearing a uniform for too long.”

She followed Apple, at an entirely human pace.

“Are there any demons with you?”

“They stay outside, as it is with most important buildings that require privacy. People under watch don’t like to meet demonkind as well. They are less curious. More in tune with routine. Almost every person locked away doesn’t have a blood blessing. It would take multiple systemic errors for someone unfit to receive the blood. The people I see every day really do require extra-special care.”

“Fascinating.”

She wasn’t lying.

“You aren’t one of them, so don’t come running if you see something undesirable. It’s only temporary.”

Apple was wearing high heels.

Something she had not mastered.

“Ok.”

They waltzed together through sunny streets preparing for summer feasts. Trifles preserved in glass buckets with ice were lined up in front of bake shops. Tables were unfolding and shopping was naturally being done outside where it was brightest and customers were in their best mood. Ice delivery servicemen were trudging through the heat, delivering wondrous relief.

She’s swift.

Following Apple’s silver-buckled heels meant no tripping or falling. They always remained right out of the striking range of the vendors too. No one tried to stop them. They looked busy. Apple had done away with any possibility of suspicion by standing out. With her made up looks and hair it was hard to guess that she was escorting a secret.

My hood is starting to feel silly, but there is a chance I could be recognized.

I did cause a big incident, and then I vanished.

Perhaps I am a local legend.

That made her blush honestly. If the gossip about her had turned away from her bow in her absence that would leave her pleased pink. She wanted to be known for anything else, and causing trouble was preferable by far.

“Stop smiling like you are demented. You don’t have to act.”

She wasn’t, but she created a circle of lies. To protect her pride. “Sorry, I’ve been trying to practice whenever I can.”

“That’s admirable but unnecessary.”

She pulled her black hood over her entire face.

I have to be a better liar.

Walking turned into panting. Apple did not tire. She felt obligated to act tough. After so much time away from the woods and breaking the rules her legs were weaker. Out of practice. When they arrived her real complaints frothed out as spittle.

“Why is it so unwelcoming?”

The internal barrier wall was all grey. The entry doors were plain and windowless. The outer rim of the watch tower zone looked like an ideal horrible prison.

She was suddenly worried for the people inside.

“You’re easy to read.”

Uh-oh.

“The inside is what counts, Rachel. This isn’t a public area and a controlled environment is safer for the residents.”

It felt like a lie, but only to her. She had heard the same thing her entire life. Organization good.

Outside bad.

Apple opened the door.

It was thin. A set of wooden planks painted grey in an arched hole. Apple was the most colorful thing in sight for about five blinks.

“Wow.”

Green.

Everywhere.

She continued to follow Apple at a slow pace. The watch area was attached to the main Enclave, put it stuck out into where good earth was like a leaky tumor. The manicured grass from the Scout Dorm became a dead and lifeless memory. Leaves tickled her feet. Birds were chirping twice as loud as she could take. Her ears were actually stinging.

“This is the kind of simulation they prefer. Not too many people. Lots of color. Fresh food. It takes care of them, and I watch.”

“I take back what I said about it being underwhelming,” She immediately noted that most of the wandering fruit pickers were elderly. “They look happy.”

The Tower was still far away. Wooden buckets were scattered around, half full of precious fruit and herbal remedies that needed to be processed.

“They come at night to get the heavy buckets.”

Her head turned back to Apple.

“Demons are allowed in here at night?”

“These resources are especially precious in winter. We need them to fight off animals and transport the harvest for us. The residents are perfect for gradually picking, but as you can see heavy lifting isn’t their version of fun."

A wrinkled man was carefully inspecting fruit eight steps away from her. He was experienced. He was good at it. He had shaky hands. He wasn’t climbing any of the short ladders or trudging through the lush bushes. He was sorting. Removing rot from a colorful pile. He banished rotting berries back to the ground with a flick. Then he took a break. A choice he had anytime he pleased, all day long. The shade from the trees was teeming with human life. Younger Watch residents were napping loudly and making rude faces at each other. The rotten fruits were their toy of choice for pranks and fun.

Everyone looked well fed.

I would die of boredom here.

Convincing Baam will be a breeze.

I could never survive somewhere so….simple.

“We made it, and you didn’t complain. Go out at night if you please, but you must stay on the ground floor in here. The sick and the violent are upstairs. Now that I’m not escorting you my post is here."

Apple sat down in a yellow chair near the entrance.

She didn’t have a desk.

It was her job to watch.

“Enjoy the orchard.”

She stopped. “Where do I sleep?”

“Anywhere outside, or over there.”

Apple pointed at a hallway labeled “transient” and it was not promising.

“You can’t be serious.”

Around the corner lurked a row of bunk beds. She could see a small figure in one, and it looked male.

Apple was seated with crossed legs. “There are no locked doors here. Only high upstairs, and those are few in number.”

Rachel was faced with a dilemma. The Tower was much too wild. She wanted to launch herself back to the dorm of learning by catapult.

“I don’t belong here. This…is a barn.”

“You don’t, and no refuge for livestock is this comfortable. There are no doors for the safety of the staff. It’s nothing personal. I will call you when your “visitor” comes. You will be escorted back out by me. If you feel you’re being bothered by someone in the transient hall you only need to scream.”

She didn’t want to go in. “Can…I stay with you?”

“I leave at nightfall, but yes.”

The man lying on one of the bottom bunks didn’t look friendly.

He was speaking to no one.

“I can’t believe I almost ended up…up here…” Her breathing was wrecked with unspoken sobs.

She haughtily trotted through the shared temporary quarters with her nose in the air. She would have to sleep at some point. To her dismay the wrought iron beds were both new and clean. Brightly painted wooden signs were advertising very basic rules.

Be kind.

Be helpful.

Be brave.

Pretty words. Even simpler than the messages of peace posted throughout the Enclave.

I’m getting hot. It’s clean and everything is soft, but there aren’t enough windows.

She left her cloak on a random bed. Her skirt and dress shoes were out of place. Strangely, there was a bucket of clothes in the corner. It looked abandoned. Clean, again, but left in a heap in a wide wicker basket. Against her better judgement she shoved her hand inside. There was nothing here to read. She had to learn with uncouth hands. Blouses and pajama pants parted and she noticed a tag on the back of the bin.

Donated clothes.

I guess they all just pick new ones whenever they want.

How free.

They're all baggy.

The man sounded more like a boy, and she hated hearing his voice.

“Chirpy, who is that?”

Is there another person in here?

Does everyone have silly nicknames? I hope I don’t get one.

He had red hair. She saw no other mops or lumps that were human.

It can’t be a baby.

She stayed close to the edge of the room.

I want out.

It’s already all I can think about.

Should I have thrown caution to the wind and taken my badge that day?

Was I tricked?

Does Hansung intend to trap me here?

Apple reassured me otherwise, but I met her today.

I can’t stay here.

She could not breathe.

She was clutching her throat.

“Outside…maybe…”

She darted past Apple over slippery grey floors. Her ankles screamed. It was so shiny and clean. Her shoes touched fifty blooming plants and a veggie garden. The smell was unreal. Just what she was looking for, but made all wrong in a giant fortress.

Not in nature.

“Ah…”

One of the berry pickers to her right wasn’t wearing clothes.

Not a stitch.

She ran back inside like her shoes were on fire. Apple didn’t look too surprised when her new charge hid behind her.

“It’s only temporary. We know you wouldn’t fit in.”

“Put me in the loony isolation room if they make me stay here.”

“They who? You’re doing so good. I haven’t heard a bad peep about you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why would I lie? Transient is often used to protect people. Sometimes from themselves. Placing someone under watch is not a decision taken likely. You did what you were supposed to do. If you didn’t you’d know.”

“How much do you know?”

“I know you won’t be here permanently.”

“Please tell me that every day.”

“You’re not the only one I’ll be reassuring. You might have to wait in line.”

“I will.”

“Good. Be brave.”

Her heart was too strained for that. She left Apple to cry and there she sat. She ignored the emerald orchard and every time she peeped around the corner she saw people walk in deeper. Mostly alone, wandering in and out. Apple reassured her that the beds and communal baths for proper residents were much bigger. They had a food hall too. Apple eventually admitted that transient was less comfortable. They got a meal cart. She only had one roommate, not two. The row of twenty beds always felt too full, because he wouldn’t stop talking to himself. Or rather, his stuffed bird. A soft thing that was rounder than a powder puff.

She didn’t feel obligated to keep either of them company.

She covered her ears with a pillow at night.

He did it non-stop past dark. Her sleep schedule was doomed by week two. “Chirpy, tell me who that is. I know you talked to her. I want to make friends too.”

I didn’t talk to any stuffed bird.

I’m not talking to you either.

Who would…can befriend someone who repeats the same thing all day?

I’m tired of being tense. I just want to sleep and rip Baam apart for subjecting me to this.

Why must misfortune and opportunity go hand in hand because of him?

This is so hard.

She sniffed pathetically. Her freckled face was perfectly clean. The shower wasn’t even private, but there were at least curtains to hide behind.

I’m going to start sleeping in there at this rate.

Let this end soon.

I want out.

She dreamed only of her badge, and patience bearing fruit. The smell of growing life had dulled down her nose. She sneezed, surrounded by too much pollen. Outside she was missing festivals that honored Anlace.

I’ll ask Apple when tomorrow.

It feels like I’ve been here forever.

One day her hands began to shake uncontrollably. From then on she could hardly lift her head.

An apple landed on her pillow.

"He's coming early. Cheer up."

 

Chapter 14: Year 6 ($$$)

I’ve heard of speaking in tongues. It’s a religious act. One that shouldn’t touch my ears. The old religious ways never helped with unity. It’s all shared as a joke now. It’s gratingly strange to know where it came from. If I lived in a dirty hut without the light of civilization the noises coming from my fellow men…well…

It makes me long for a godly savior.

Someone that can make sense of it.

I hate this meaningless noise.

I crave understanding.

The visitation desk had scratch marks on it. Weak, human claws had worn it down. It was barely big enough for two.

Apple stared at her with near-loving approval.

She was playing her part perfectly. The daily taste of fruit had molded her face into something uglier. Nearly unrecognizable underneath the sweet smells and tongue wagging from her thousands of hallway roommates.

“I will be a silent observer.”

I bet you will.

“You don’t seem to like it here.”

See. You’re chatty. You lied.

“After a few days even regulars tend to give it a chance. Aren’t the Towers more merciful than leaving the weak to their own devices?”

Rachel wanted to eat glass, if only to change the expression on her caretakers face. “Threat heard loud and clear. I didn’t take it seriously enough before. I acknowledge that. I’m being…given a great gift…instead of eternal drudgery during my long life.”

“Nobody ever threatened you, Rachel.”

“Can you be honest with me?”

“Maybe.”

“Did Hansung keep pushing for me to be sequestered here, after he manipulated my badge away from my hands?”

Apple was watching the outside. Not her. She wasn’t a threat. With fear fully in force, controlling her every breath, she was no longer an issue.

“Someone did.”

She copied Apple. Her eyes were both soft and dull. She wanted to be just as free of complicated questions. Apple seemingly could not resist her copycat stare. She smiled with an air of playfulness, like her charge for today was an entertaining toy.

“If you feel ready now all of the extra pain is worth it. You shouldn’t doubt kindness when it is given.”

I’m trying, but all I can think about is making Baam cry. How dare he almost damn me to this place, with the pantsless hooligans and the lazy.

I’m better than them.

It was a very active night. Cool and inviting. The stairs were full of dull residents rolling their way outside to play regardless of time. The stars were out in full force, draping the fields in white finery. Her love for the skies had paused in her pursuit of freedom. She could not afford to dream every day.

That was the Tower way.

It was why her freedom had very nearly been torn from her, and she needed it to live.

She had to focus.

Everyone gets a fair trial.

That sign had been knitted. With needlepoint, by a skilled hand with a love for fabric and color. It was the sort of artistic thing her new clients would be allowed to demand from her. It was the first time she had seen such a piece. Chasing down wishes was starting to sound more and more costly. Her new privileges and wealth were soon to be squandered on vapid things an incomprehensible species liked to obsess over.

It was more exciting than here.

I can’t stop convulsing.

I’m even convincing myself.

I am trapped here, aren’t I?

My performance today is everything. What will complete or break my future.

It was past her favorite time. The shift changes she used to use to escape had come and ended, back in the freer world. The moon looked larger than usual, looming above the fertile field. It had a blue tint. She knew, from experience, that none of the windows were meant to be opened. Instead the Tower had nail thin holes in it for ventilation. Only the first floor had any real openings in it. She was about to meet Baam on the second stairwell corner, with a sheet of glass and nothing but waning natural light and a candle. In that glorified broom closet his fate would be sealed. It was a peaceful scene. A great many people were still outside indulging in their easy work. It was almost time for the nightly harvest. A time as safe as any other.

I need my dignity to live.

I would die in here.

They were coming. Figures rolling barrels and pushing even larger iron crates. The pickers and slackers came out to greet them, and it was a friendly scene. A horde of undressed and dressed and sloppily dressed fools prancing around the civilized in their uniforms. When she did have the mental fortitude to watch she only saw demons, carefully dancing through the mess and transporting the precious produce. She had to assume there were more regulars and humans like Apple, but they went unseen. More interested in the bigger picture and being a watchful eye. As usual, demonkind had been saddled with the heaviest grunt work.

They’ll die in here too. That crazy…bird boy won’t pass his fair trial. This is it for him. An entire lifetime of sweet plenty, without the joy of cooking or cleaning or any control over yourself.

The friendly chaos outside was growing louder. The visitors were being welcomed, in some strange and uncivil way. Noises were slipping through the holes in the walls, and almost none of them were words. To her abject horror some of the residents didn’t know how to talk, and others seemed to have forgotten.

She wished she had someone to hug.

Baam’s smiling face was in front of her mind.

She had to destroy it, and make his obsession serving some shadowy organization she had only touched for a minute.

It wasn’t about choice anymore.

She really was angry.

“How did he get permission to see me early?”

“By working. It is a wonderful sign, Rachel. Your friend must be of great value to society.”

What about me?

Her tongue danced around the question. The badge reserved for her assured her value. She didn’t have to ask Apple. Despite her comforting voice and her boring eyes she was less influential than Rachel from the future.

Be offended.

Act like you’ve never done anything to deserve the eyes of the Watch.

She didn’t hear the footsteps. Apple assessed her for the thousandth time. Rachel looked into her own eyes. Into the only window that was about to be blocked by her closest friend. She looked hollow, like a rotten seed.

Wow.

Baam will be fooled by this.

It’s fullproof.

Her airy striped pajamas sealed her misery together perfectly. The streaks of black made her look unhealthy, and her frizzy hair had gone days without fixing. She became distracted by it.

This is what I became?

After mere days?

Her silent sobs were real.

Why must I regret every choice I make?

My love is meant to be.

I know it.

The sky wasn’t all that beautiful at the moment, but she had to believe that feeling would come back.

It had to.

She needed it to live, and so many other little things. Her grasping hands were stinging down to the bone with want.

Apple cleared her throat.

“Huh?” She wiped drool off of her mouth. Thirsty for a dream whose taste had been temporarily soured. “What is it?”

Her chin bent down, tired of waiting, and that was when she saw him.

“Baam?”

He had broken a little unspoken rule. His chair sat empty. She could still see people curling up to sleep under the trees. The formal setting had been shattered.

I wonder if I look that different.

Long hair could not obscure much from her. It was impossible to not recognize him. He looked like he had arrived in a hurry, and his familiar uniform was gone. The nondescript beige and the neat vest that defined him had been swallowed up by black. Not too much of a surprise. The man from the darkness wore robes too. It had to be a signature choice, but she was disgusted by the painted red eyes around his slinky skirt. A tough boot with an iron toe was sticking out from under that. He looked ready to fight, not defend. He had gotten down on one knee, to look at her bobbing chin and her lowered eyes.

Why?

Later in life she wanted to believe she would have cried with him, if he shed tears for her. In the end independent souls like herself are equally susceptible to honest love.

Stop it.

His eyes were shining, but not with tears. Hers dried at the sight. Not a single drop fell, making her silent sobbing all the more akin with madness. Her light, confused whisper of his name died out like a match. Then, her skin began to glow.

“You.”

The desk was not fastened down. Her muscles didn’t feel a twinge of effort. The block of wood and metal hoisted high above her head.

Apple sidestepped.

Baam did not.

Her vision blurred when she threw it down.

*SMASH*

Splinters scattered. A nail bounced away under the closed door. Baam sat frozen, on both knees now. He shook his arms like she had dumped a cup of water on him.

“Calm d-”

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

His lips sealed.

She pounded at her chest. “Me!”

He was starting to realize the gravity of the situation. She had not touched him once. His curled up pose next to her had not granted him a single poke. Or even a kind word. His hands and fingers started to jam together, like he was trying to quickly finish a puzzle.

“I-”

“I gave you everything!”

A lie.

“You wouldn’t even have a name without me!”

Another lie.

She was the one without a family.

“I should have left you to rot! If you knew me at all….you would have come sooner…”

That much was painfully right. On paper she had spent four seasons under watchful custody. He would have found her mute and drooling if that was true.

“You abandoned me,” Her closed eyes sold it, but she was really thinking about the day she met his real friends. The ones he had kept under wraps. “Your arrogance has ruined my life. I came up here knowing it’s too late for me. They’re going to keep me here.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

So much confidence.

F.U.G must have given him a narcissistic boost.

His eyes were bright inside her glow, but his massive mop of hair kept falling over them. It was like he was flashing in and out of existence.

“Hah. Do you really think I’m going to wait for you? You arrogant prick. I can’t stand it here. I can’t bear to look at you. Do you even understand what your arrogance did to me? I couldn’t attend my own LATE graduation. Everyone I’ve ever met has probably written me off for dead…all…all because you wanted to show off your stupid new friends!!!”

She was spitting in his face. The spray of it heated up the inside of her mouth.

“You’ll be out soon,” He shamelessly held out for forgiveness on his knees. Waiting for touches that will surely come. “I told them you would hate it here. Some demons are allowed to support their friends. I…”

She knew how to scare him stiff.

“I’m not waiting.”

“Huh?”

A dumb sound. It didn’t match his crystal clear voice. He was taller too. His baby face was slowly being overtaken by an adult body. Some of the nails on his fingers looked too sharp, shyly hiding in his sleeves. He was already in the process of polishing himself into a weapon. All she had to do was take his power away. Make all that effort moot, by calling up an eternal debt he couldn’t pay. Neverending guilt would plague him.

This she knew.

Baam trusted her to never give up on herself.

He had watched her dance on top of the walls, full of dreams and plans for her tomorrow. She had met few others so purely motivated by their little dreams.

“Can’t you see?”

She came in closer, until a ring of her light appeared around his pupils.

“There is a way out of here, and I don’t believe in you anymore.”

He broke her trust and her pity completely then. His hands hit the ground and he clawed away from her. He launched up to report her suicidal ideas to Apple in a snap.

“Did you hear that? How long until I get an answer? She doesn’t have any family to check on her. Please.”

She was laughing at his back.

Apple played along. “I’m not sure what you mean sir, but you are behaving erratically. If you are deemed to be a bad influence I cannot let you be involved in this woman’s life. She needs a safe environment.”

Baam had to stay calm.

There is no place for an unstable demon on the inside.

His protest came out wrong anyway.

“Did you not hear her…”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down.” Apple had her hand out. A deeply intimidating gesture for any demon to see up close. “The sight of you has agitated Rachel, and she was fine yesterday.”

She’s good.

Her heart was beating red.

“I hate you.”

Baam’s gold eyes flashed back to her, but he had to watch Apple. He had to keep his posture correct. He wasn’t allowed to question her methods. For all he knew Apple had spent a year with her, and this was her first outburst, and he was the cause of it.

Apple condemned him.

“This will be your only visit.”

A bold move.

Rachel’s pumping chest slowed down somewhat.

“What can I do to get her out of here?” He was talking to Apple. The authority figure who held control over her. He sounded so calm.

She tapped Baam’s back. Her knuckles rapped over it like he was a door. That forced him to turn.

“Rachel-”

“I need money.”

“What?”

“Newsflash, Baam. Corruption is the way to go. I need the highest position you can buy with that tough body of yours.”

She punched his back for emphasis.

“I’m not asking. This is your fault. If you ever want to see me again figure it out.”

He was torn between being respectful of Apple, and answering her.

“Sir, do you need to leave? Are you feeling upset?”

His spine actually jerked under her fist. The feeling almost made her shrink back.

“No, ma’am. You haven’t told Rachel she’s being inappropriate, so I assume it’s the truth. I can buy her way out of here.”

Apple shrugged with a sigh. “I’m not supposed to be talking. You’ve broken so many rules, but it’s as you said. Rachel has no human family and I feel the need to advocate for her. You would need to take on a substantial amount of debt to lift her up high enough. The Watch is nearly unyielding.”

He didn’t hesitate.

“I’ll do it.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything, but you must stop trying to press me for information now. I am this close to throwing you out. Understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Apple backed away into the corner furthest away from all the splinters. Then, Baam knew he would get no more threats or help.

Time to dodge.

He knows what he has to do.

No point dragging this out.

I don’t want him to get any ideas.

She crouched behind the hunk of ruined wood. “Go away.” Her petulant tone and Apple’s threats had made the atmosphere so unwelcoming and heavy.

A swishing sound wiped up a pile of splinters.

She sneezed, and when her eyes opened Baam’s head was above her.

“Don’t leave me.”

You’re supposed to cry when you say things like that.

“I wasn’t waiting for you in the first place. I’ve been praying to heathen gods for my life back. What can you do? From here it looks like you came to say goodbye.”

She was backed into a corner on her own violation, coated with sawdust. It looked like extra freckles. Her eyes were stinging, full of even more dirt.

“Don’t you want to see me again?”

He had to tiptoe around her desire to die, because of the witness. He balanced on that razors edge, begging while she taunted him for not trying hard enough.

Her chin was on her knees now, and she mumbled the same way her crazy bunkmate did.

“How could you leave me here, when I lifted you up out of the hole you hated the most? Kindness doesn’t pay. I see that now. Is playing with your friends in the woods fun, Baam?”

He flinched, because he was like every other demon. He had a deep bond with his Team. It was only natural, and it didn’t mean he had forgotten her, but a year is a long time. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe he had spent every waking moment in pursuit of her. No, somewhere in there he was in the woods with caring hands. He wasn’t fighting all of his battles alone. It was an absurd belief, but she felt certain that he had allies within F.U.G too.

She wanted to say it was only fair. Her thoughts had drifted from him long ago.

It wasn’t something to forgive.

She was the same way, but the blood on his hands left her with some questions.

He was hiding it from Apple. A steady drip. His thumb was ripping into his pinky finger. She felt squeamish. Nervous to see bone. The smallest finger on his other hand was nearly gone.

Down to a stump.

She had not noticed.

He laughed.

“Haha.”

Her good acting had blinded her for a few minutes. Baam’s hands were hidden by the front of his robe. They were on his knees. Streaks of black were falling over the eyes that adorned him. Unexpected and gory tears spread all over the fabric, and a metallic scent reached her dusty nose.

“You’re so funny Rachel. You’ve got a great sense of humor.”

No I don’t.

What’s wrong with him?

“I won’t hear any more.”

Is he actually angry?

Either way I should be in the clear as long as F.U.G recruits him.

“I’ll go see the Debtor in the morning. You should be out after a few sleeps, but I won’t be able to see you again.”

“Good.”

A long, pregnant silence reigned beyond her barrier. She wasn’t looking at him on purpose. Too disturbed by his injuries to keep acting under his stare.

“There are a few positions and families that don’t ever go under Watch. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. It’s a very good idea Rachel. Can I ask you to wait…”

“No.”

The stony floor was freezing, so she hugged her legs.

“No? Do you want to die that badly?”

He was whispering, and he wasn’t supposed to do that. Apple successfully pretended that she didn’t notice, and Baam laughed again. Pretending that their conversation was going normally involved lots of fake laughter to him. He wasn’t a great liar.

She had practiced plenty. “You don’t know anything. I’ve…hated every second of this place. I have nothing. I am nothing. If you were going to take a break from adventuring to save me you would have done it already. Was pretending to care fun, Baam, when you needed a name from a human?”

This is starting to feel too real.

I can’t stop smirking.

Maybe I’ve been holding this in since before he did anything wrong.

“I don’t know when I will see you again.”

“Don’t touch me.” It felt good to say that.

He was fully leaning on the fallen table. Bought to his knees by her apathy.

“When did you start to believe I left you behind?”

A long time ago.

She didn’t answer him.

“Why are you still here?”

It was like he didn’t have the strength to get up. His ruined finger had reached over the barrier, but his arm was limp. Her light was finally gone. His eyes were reflecting the moon. Cold, with his skin tinted blue too.

“Won’t you miss me?”

“I will not, but you owe me. If you have any shame you’ll get me out of here.”

Her eyes found two black holes. Somehow, he was able to turn off his light too. The natural reflectiveness of his eyes could easily be turned on and off for stealth.

Or, for intimidation.

He was showing her how serious he was in his way. Not the human way.

“Are you lying?”

Was I too hammy?

She didn’t skip a beat. “Your unlimited arrogance gives me shivers. Shove your pinky back on and get to work.”

His eyes remained dark.

He hid his hurt from her, because she wasn’t sharing it. He felt too vulnerable to show anyone his feelings. Including her. In the dark he could pretend that she would care, if only she could see him clearly.

What a baby.

She wondered how it felt for him. To know that she didn’t give a rats ass about his blood. Her built up resentment had solidified her act.

She was enjoying it. “If you don’t leave soon I’m going to scream.”

“Go ahead.”

“There must be a time limit. Are you trying to anger the watchers?”

“I’m not.”

“Do I have to scream to be rid of you?”

“Why don’t you believe in me?”

That was an easy one. “You’re weak, easily distracted, slow, arrogant…ah you’re altogether useless. You’ve proved it. I gave you time Baam, and you wasted it. I’ll never trust you again. Not even if you help me. I wish I made a better friend.”

I sound convincingly suicidal.

“If I leave now will you promise to leave as well?”

Comforting him would ruin the buildup of pain.

“I won’t promise you anything. Why should I?”

“You should because I am going to do as you asked. I have a way and I only need to see the Debtor.”

Listen to him. Trying not to yell. The easygoing Rachel he knew is gone.

“Do it anyway.”

“What?”

“It’s the same weather I get out or not. I only want you to suffer.”

She rubbed her brow then, and she found sweat.

“Suffer?”

“Don’t you have keen hearing? You heard me.”

“Suffer.”

“Stop mumbling.”

“I have been suffering.”

“Lies.” She would have yelled it, but she didn’t have the energy. “Roll the dice Baam. If you beg and sell yourself I may walk out of here. You might see me again, when you scrape together some freedom, but it won’t be for long. My plan is to forget you.”

She heard a scraping on the floor. He was looking for his finger.

“Are you sure you won’t regret it?”

“What part? Hating you as you deserve or finally standing up for myself? You were always a pushy, uppity bastard. As I breathe in this sweaty and sweet place I know you used me. If I wasn’t your perfect savior we would have never been friends. Demons only need merciful humans who give them gifts and meaning. When I die you’ll find another.”

He had eight fingers left. She could see them all, gripping the table.

“How heartless.”

“Now will you finally leave me?”

“If you hold my hand.”

It had gotten darker. She had to be careful. Touching can be hateful too. She convinced herself of that. She was done talking. Her heart sounded like thundering hooves. She had said everything and more. Hansung and those above him would no doubt be satisfied. She had really, truly given her all.

It's almost over.

A groan escaped her throat, like she was too annoyed to keep fighting with him. Like she was only going along with him to make him go away. As if her mercy came from the eagerness to see him gone, hopefully forever.

She only took one of his hands.

The bone should have been disgusting. The blood was dry. Spongy. The table was totally ruined, caked in blood and dirt. She did not hold it hard. It was a weak handshake, really.

“I thought you knew me.”

A sharp edge, a nail or a bone, grazed over her palm when he pulled back.

He didn’t wait for an answer.

Apple opened the door, and he was gone. She received more words of approval. Even a pat on her bent back, and just like that it was over.

Her role in Baam’s life ended.

Chapter 15: Year 17 (¿)

The last book she had read was about the bottom of a lake. A place she would never see. For medical purposes a Hunter had gone down, into one. An unfathomable concept, but the one who went had a good memory. Good enough to stir the imagination of humans like her. The lower realm had no forests as we know it, and the pressure is immense. Like being squeezed on a blurry, hot summer day. So harsh was the pressing that the demon below wondered how drowning really kills. Then, he was distracted by living stones. Rubbed with colors more vibrant than jewels. The longer she dreamed of it the more she felt it. The passage had brought her there. Beyond where drowning could take her. There existed an amazing realm where she could breathe and float.

If only her body could handle the pressure.

The joy of the wonderlands beyond her could only be seen by uncaring eyes. Not hers. In that bitterness she had to dream, even if it was dangerous.

Her toes touched the bottom.

****

“Ugh!” Getting up gasping left her with a wave of tiredness.

I’m supposed to be refreshed.

Enough time had passed, but even the tips of her fingers felt drained.

That…wasn’t a nightmare.

Have I been overworking myself?

Her cat-like eyes slid over to the book by her bedside.

The Siren Saltwater: A memoir and record.

Two more unfinished tomes were waiting, and she had various product samples rotting on top of her dresser.

Her nose twitched, even though the seals on them were tight.

I should throw those out.

Her fingers flashed out to catch six shapely vials. All of the skinny glass tubes sat obediently while she looked for her slippers. She had steady hands. The uppermost apartment was all hers. No one could interrupt her. Nobody was even allowed to knock. Her space was by invitation only.

I want to be done today.

So, she spent her mornings in a voluminous linen nightgown, and reed green slippers. Long sleeves covered her arms, and her hands. The glass vials were lost within them, and the lace around her neck wasn’t itchy. That used to be a novelty. None of her suits itched or bothered her either. Everything she wore was of too high a quality, and it was professionally tailored. Most of the services she required could be home calls, but she preferred to go out. Trust was not her forte. Even with a special badge sewn into her side pouch she feared mistreatment. Another scheme. Her downfall.

Normal things like that.

She could still remember the way her burgundy dress felt, like it was yesterday. Even the way her dried blood felt, when it seeped into her undersized shoes. She did not wear bows. Not in her hair or around her ankles. When frills came into style she left that for the demons, and the houses that had tailors. She did not know why. She loved the freedom to not wear a uniform, but sometimes when she worse something too close she sweated through it in minutes. It was only natural to cut out feelings that got in the way out her next adventure, so she dressed like an undertaker.

She was somewhat known for it.

One sliver of her dream, where she wore silly outfits, had died. She focused in solely on the outside world, gifting only the bare minimum to her duties. That was where her instincts guided her, to keep her away from the bad feeling. When she began to inhale too hard to function. The lack of air could even steal her sight.

The slight shift had saved her.

Her heart lifted again thinking of her next excursion.

There’s more to dream of, even though I go out as often as I can. I am thrilled about it.

New things aren’t frightening.

I’ve wanted them all this time.

Next I’ll see if there’s a lake excursion. Even if the water isn’t salty I’m sure “medicine” brings people out there.

She opened her most intimate door. Her living room would occasionally have a guest, but never there. Her disgracefully plain and empty bed chamber had to stay a secret. Calling an interior design team would be easier than ringing a bell. The rest of her quarters looked well groomed, busy, and it was bursting with framed slices of her adventures. Bits of the forest and valley cliffs too. So many preserved flowers lined her walls. Those who entered wondered if she was obsessed with the sky or beauty itself.

My room is a wooden pallet bed, because I don’t want any of this.

She dreamed of sleeping outside, unsupervised.

Another impossibility.

Breathing underwater tomorrow would be more likely.

She passed a pressed ochre bloom taller than her, framed in gold.

If only I could spend every day outside.

How much further can I go?

Flying is a no-go.

Too many monsters.

I’m not selfish enough to ask a precious Hunter to die for me.

Are the mountains too far away from my Enclave?

That’s not an excuse. It’s a reason.

The further you go the more likely we get cut off at the back.

I've heard that line a hundred times.

Her heart kept beating fast. Telling her the same thing as always.

I’ll ask anyway.

It feels like I haven’t gone that far at all.

She opened her trash tube. The pretty glass samples tumbled down. They were far too ugly when compared to other products on the market.

I’ve been slacking.

Parfum is a popular request, and I don’t sell it. I’ve touched weighty bottles that feel like treasure. Bags of powder so silky it makes me wish for a pillow. The other badge holders really know how to make things appealing, artistic, and beautiful.

Small wonder I’m disliked.

Her thumb and pointer were rebelliously hanging on to the last vial. A plain one with a flat bottom. A skinny triangle with no shining features. Her reflection looked like melted butter in it. The stopper was glass too. A twist top.

“I can settle.”

That was true. Her D&D house had eight rooms total. One sprawling upper apartment all for the owner above that, and her “bar” below could maybe seat twenty. She had no room for dancing, or demonic family reunions. Most of what she provided included drinks, and music. Her address had very generously been dubbed The House of Lyrics in the Enclave Weekly Editorial Chapter. It sounded fancy enough. The writers tried not to be offensive when they spoke of her address, which was empty too often and niche at best when it came to requests.

Her working hours were short.

The singing gimmick was at the end of the week, and it was done sparsely, but somehow she had made a mark on the map. A random passing thought had netted more clients. She allowed some clients to choose lyrics, or rather voice when they did not like a song. Once, she had watched a demonic guest request twenty song changes. For an astronomical sum of money. Before the singer started crying. It was a novel experience for them, and the singing nights that with this special privilege were always full.

Is annoying a random singer really that fun?

Becoming The House of Lyrics was such a simple thing.

It’s luck of the draw if the singer is the one left crying though.

Everybody wants to befriend a demon, but being observed and picked apart isn’t so glamorous or financially beneficial.

I do hope rumors about my high compensation rates are running around too.

Her suit enveloped her. It fit like a glove, and she chose black ones to match. She had plenty of softer spring colors, but it was all in service of looking professional or traveling. She was too eccentric. When she got an approval letter for an excursion she ruthlessly kicked out clients, and she left. Leaving a “closed” sign up for days.

No one had punished her.

She was, by all accounts, doing well. The other badge holders just hated to see her slack. It wasn’t normal to watch a nobody rest on their laurels, but that was exactly what she was doing.

I don’t have any bills, so it’s hard to even appear worried. Or humble. I couldn’t give my neighbors what they wanted.

“A nobody who admires them”.

She smirked while she adjusted her tie. Her jacket stopped at her hips. Her shoes were shimmering clean, ready to run into the woods at any moment. Her office had some paperwork in it. She spent about twenty minutes looking at it when the mail came, but no more was necessary.

Evan had started questioning her openly at the yearly meeting.

“Who is covering your costs?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?!”

It wasn’t a total lie, or even a malicious one. She did not know who was paying her household bills. For all she knew it was the shady organization she had met once. Baam was somewhere locked inside it, but his missions and their profits were a mystery to her.

I’ll check until there’s change, but for now I’m covered and I can travel too.

That was what Evan furrowed his brow about most. Her voluntary research excursion passes came at a sky-high cost, and she left every two to three months. The Hunters in charge of such missions knew her by name. Over the years she had become a little too known, and her mysterious financial backer was of great interest to many.

Evan did not like watching other hands pry into badgeholder business.

She clipped hers to the side of her leather belt.

Time to go to work.

Chalk dusted her hands. She wrote her hours for the day on her open sign.

Four should do.

The usual was twelve, with a full staff.

She was alone.

It had just turned out that way.

Time to do the check outs.

She took four keys off the board. Casually, she tapped room four open with her wrist.

Empty.

No punishment needed.

She wrote that down, and she wrote it three more times.

That was where she got the most ire. Her eight rooms often sat empty. Passing Rankers and Hunters stood dumbfounded in front of her closed business, unable to check in, equally often.

She paused at the last room.

A wooden pallet bed, in the middle of a pale space.

“It looks exactly like mine.”

In the beginning it had shocked her to see how much the D&D rooms resembled her old room. It felt fitting that she slept in the same condition as her guests, who cared not for fluff or pomp.

Only privacy.

She truly felt the same way.

The triangle in her hand looked prettier in the sun.

I’ll send this today, and I’ll start doing parfum services.

I have been slacking a little.

She walked down to her bar to man it. It was stocked with a below average supply of rabid beast alcohol. Brewed by humanity, but flavored with disease. A peculiar greenish drink favored by many among demonkind. The monsters outside were one blob of madness to humanity, but to a demon they held many flavors. The human power of fermentation created new ones, but not the buzz of alcohol. So she saw her fizzy wares as a delicious selection of food.

A customer was already waiting.

She did smile.

Still wary of the memory of the way their kind get mistreated at human establishments. It wasn’t a memory she liked.

With parfum, alcohol, and song nights my menu should be full enough. I went slow and steady. F.U.G has never contacted me directly.

I have what I want.

“You’re sweating.”

It was one of her repeat customers.

“I ran down to check on the bar. It’s been a late morning. Good thing I did. You’re here.”

She had been completely desensitized to handsome faces, and the demonic way of speaking literally and bluntly. He had choppy white hair, and red eyes, but she really knew him by his earrings. Floppy, long, fake silver things. The red gems hanging from them liked to swing around when he moved, and he wore an elaborate jacket when he wasn’t on duty too. That was one thing demons clearly loved about staying inside. Putting on their silly and flashy clothes that they found charming for some reason or other. Another regular of hers wore a certain fabric for its natural smell.

“You never check on the bar.”

Harsh.

She skipped over his pointless unintentional harshness. After seven years of him she was confident. He knew she didn’t know his name, and he liked it that way. Perhaps that was why her house had gone without a name for so long. So many of her customers were squirrelly. New to socializing. They preferred anonymity, and Rankers seemed to avoid the crowd she brought in.

That meant her crowd was low ranking, but she didn’t mind.

She grabbed a random bottle, and she gave it a shake. Dark, cloudy scales the size of her palm rattled around inside.

Her neck bent when she presented it to her customer.

“Will this do?”

She didn’t know the flavor, and she had no name for it, but he could easily tell with a look.

“Yes.”

He’s easy.

He wasn’t finished.

“Would you like to know your future?”

She did not like how new that sentence was. She had done nothing different today. The same old song and dance was how she kept calm. In those months between her breaths of freedom.

“No, thank you.”

Firm, but kind.

He opened the bottle. She charged him. Drinks were by full cask only, because a spill could kill her. She turned away to pack her bottle sample.

“No one will be able to get in at night, if you close at that time.”

He was pointing at her meager business hours.

Her smile was sarcastic. “I know.”

He didn’t open the bottle, which was sealed with hardened resin. “If you don’t want to talk to me you should listen to the singer that will visit you today.”

Fuck, no.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He stayed for two hours.

To her horror the bell did ring, as soon as he left, and someone who clearly wasn’t a customer walked in.

“Hello?”

Go away.

Wait, I can do that.

I’m in charge.

“Please leave. I am closing early.”

She was used to being listened to. To demonkinds total obedience. Her skin felt like it was peeling away when the brown cloak came closer instead.

“Wait. Let me explain. I’m here to work.”

Don’t say it.

“I’m a singer.”

Well, that means one of my repeaters has creepy powers.

Yuck.

Chapter 16: Year 17 (¿¿)

“May I sit?”

She asks too many questions.

The stranger was too confident, and also too tall. Her slender figure loomed the way all polite, huge people do. With a slouch. In order to meet the eyes of small creatures like her.

It’s not a bow.

I’m being treated like a nervous child.

“May I?”

I heard you.

I want you to give up.

I’m ignoring you.

You know full well that my badge grants me every protection.

Be afraid.

The nosy stranger had already asked more than five questions about her preferred type of music, and instruments. She even answered some of her own questions.

Ignoring her was ineffective.

I’m getting to know her against my will.

I don’t like it.

Her fingers were most apt with a lute or on the piano. Classics. Well loved ones. She was basically talking to herself, as if Rachel was madly curious about her. With passion. The woman was intent on selling herself.

I haven’t said a word, and she’s still going.

Can she not see my glare?

“It’s been a long walk down the path. I loved going downhill, and sinking into your glorious forest. The buildings here are so small. Totally swallowed up. I feel like neighbors actually know each other here. There’s a real sense of community. I’ve heard about small town quaintness, but I didn’t think it would be in the air…”

She has the wrong idea.

This valley hides the same drama in her Enclave. I’m sure no one Enclave is a special exception.

It’s starting to sound like she’s running from something…

Rachel’s lip twitched.

It’s none of my concern.

A set of strange, glossy pink lips kept flapping away. “I’ve seen a lot of interspecies friendships in the street, and I haven’t even been here for a day. There’s so much formality in One. In comparison this is one big picnic! You really won’t regret taking me in….I was sent because…”

She’s finally noticed my frown.

Her opponent was stunned.

Her broad, sharp shoulders fell. “Well…we thought you’d be thrilled to have me.”

What fantasy does she think she’s spouting? Is there a prince on a white horse too?

Rachel hid behind her bar, far away from the rounded table the stranger wished to share with her.

I will not be fooled.

Dodging the most important question would do her no good. “Are you a demon?”

“That’s not it. Can't you see how emotive I am?” The stranger had taken off her hood. As soon as she stepped in the door, in fact. As if she had expected to be welcomed. Her appearance was suspect. Too gorgeous and treading on inhuman. “Miss Rachel I am a private singer from The Hotel One in Enclave One. My name is Yura Ha.”

That uniform.

It's silky.

Rachel’s trips into the great outdoors had taken her far from humanity. She had lost interest in visiting the other Enclaves, because she already had a way out. She no longer had a seek a benevolent master. Her joy and her natural studies had left her history knowledge to dry up in its thirsty wake.

Her clothes are fancier than mine, and that’s weird.

I see a tailor myself.

Yura’s sapphire blue uniform resembled the flashy off-duty colors demonkind adorned. She was even wearing a tiny, garish striped scarf at her neck.

“I thought you would recognize this uniform…I wouldn’t have worn it otherwise.” Yura was starting to look positively green with embarrassment. “It’s prestigious. Shit I sound like a narcissist because you don’t know. Let…me close the door. A chill will get in. I forgot to do that.”

Burgundy curtains flapped when Yura closed the doors she had recently flung open. Rachel was being a poor host, in her hidey-hole. Yura’s chosen table had no cups or plates on it.

The unwelcoming atmosphere was starting to get to her.

“May I have some water?” She said that with one pathetic finger pointed up.

I’m not giving in. I just don’t want her to cry in front of me.

“Flip the sign to closed.”

Yura rushed back and forth two more times to obey her.

Rachel tore apart every detail of the other woman.

Her fingernails are turquois, like her eyes, hair and even some of the accents on her uniform. Is she some spy from an opponent of F.U.G? It could be even worse. Another Scout sniffing around me, questioning my ability to run this house. She’s too good-looking to be an ordinary regular like me.

Yura was hugging her grey travel cloak. “If you won’t listen I’ll sleep in a corner until you have time. It’s been a long journey….”

Her patience cracked like an egg when Yura began to sorrowfully unroll her balled cloak. It would have to do as a sleeping bag. It was all she had on her person.

She walked to me without any stops planned between, and without delay.

She turned away from the pity party, and her nails dug into the wire mesh doors that protected her from falling bottles. The drink prison made her bar look as intimidating as a hell pit, when her back wasn’t turned to it. Her palms pressed into the grooves, like she wanted to melt away today.

“Lie down on my floor, and I’m screaming for help. Sit down, over there, and keep your distance. I don’t know how sheltered you are, but this Enclave favors old citizens over new arrivals. You’d be out back on the road or worse before dark.”

Yura looked like a lone blue flower on a tree trunk in her plain bar. “Baam sent me. He was sure you’d be delighted. I didn’t even pack, because I was gifted the ability the leave, and a generous travel fund. I intend to loyally give you the change of course. It was for incidentals. To get me here, to you.”

It's like she expects me to have a letter.

“I wasn’t aware of this.”

Yura did not blush in the usual way. Instead she ate her small lips, and she nearly sucked all of the gloss off them. Real shame isn’t cute. That’s how Rachel could tell she was being honest.

“I’m a surprise.”

Yura’s hands opened pathetically.

She did not laugh in response. “My present for today is….a woman? That’s new.”

More like out of nowhere.

“What sorts of gifts do you usually get?”

Yura’s jewel-like eyes were shimmering with curiosity. Her tight ponytail made her face even easier to read.

“Money. I have rejected all else.”

Yura’s head bowed and she hugged her cloak even harder. “R-rejected?”

“Yes. I don’t talk to Baam. We only exchange letters.”

Then, Yura’s lip began to bleed.

A nervous biter.

Looks like I’m not in danger.

This is no assassin, and she doesn’t sound very jealous of my rare position.

“I would have never guessed. I understand that friends of other races meet less. Our most important guardians often gather in One, together. In my Hotel tense Team alliances get signed off on, and those demons constantly complain about how they have no time to visit their human friends. They do, though. At least once a year. I knew Baam was a hard worker, but goodness. He must be working like a slave.”

Rachel did not flinch. Instead she pinched the thin skin at his wrist under the bar. Her struggling fingers found a wet spot that needed to be wiped. When her hands emerged Yura saw an effortless mask.

“He has other priorities besides me. Were you told to come to me because he feels guilty about not visiting?”

My letters are quite cold. Once a season or less I get word that he’s alive. I told him to send less. He listened. I can hardly even remember his voice.

Yura was nodding. “I think that’s true, but I’m also the perfect fit for your advertisement!”

“Is that so?” She rubbed the spot with a black cloth. “I put out one last week. How did he know? What makes you so ideal? Were you planning to move to this Enclave before then or…”

Yura crossed her arms, dramatically indicating a “no”. “That’s not it! Entertainers inside the Hotel cannot easily be dismissed. It’s no exaggeration to say I’ve been saved by you…”

What a nut.

Rachel was about to call for help, but Yura was a fast talker. She was also still oblivious. Yura could not fathom a scenario where she would be in trouble, for some reason. The version of Rachel she knew of would never do such a thing.

“…The Hotel is the only “D&D House” in One, and there are more rules because of that. It’s a thirty-seven story building carved inside of the Mountain Where The Deal Was Struck. Life gets stranger the closer you go, and the monsters grow larger. The population of humans in One is smaller too, so our patrollers are beyond paranoid about our safety. You’re very blessed to live in a forest that naturally repels flying threats, Rachel. You really are. I…I understood my situation and I lived a wonderful life inside the hotel…but…”

Rachel’s neck felt like it had been stung by bees. Living within the walls was suffocating enough. Spending most of her time in a singular building, no matter how grand, would have killed her.

“Do you mean to say you lived and worked in the same place?”

Yura blinked ten times fast. “Yes. Won’t I be living upstairs here?”

“No. Ew. That feels wrong. Everyone in this Enclave gets assigned housing depending on how much money they make. The powerless humans get the smallest rooms, but no one lives in squalor. D&D houses like this are usually owned by influential, long-standing families. We have shared bathhouse for most, but everybody has privacy. I only live upstairs because I own the place.”

Yura rubbed her eyes. “I…I’m going to get my own home?”

“It will take some time and paperwork. I haven’t decided if I want you yet.”

Yura was fast. Her nails made a tinny tinking noise when they dragged over the ground. Her forehead slammed on the stone floor.

Rachel didn’t even have time to react.

Yura started begging. “Please. You don’t understand. I can’t go back. One is such a happy place, even though it’s too strict for my liking. I could have lived my life out happily. I would have sang and retired to a nice Sharehouse. I…I…I would never go against but…” She was eating her lips again. “When Baam came it was such a serendipitous opportunity. He said I’d be perfect for you and your business, and you’ve been doing too much work alone. With only drifters going through your small Hot…D&D House. I jumped. I said yes that day. This has been my hope. I…”

My heart isn’t involved in this. Only my head. Baam is a demon to the core.

There’s no way that he noticed her real motivation.

She's trying to use both of us.

For a reason.

The reason.

Her face is a dead giveaway.

Rachel leaned on the bar. She wanted to look at the trembling figure bowing before it. Looking away felt too cruel.

“It’s part of the deal, Yura.”

I said it too softly.

She’s going to have hope.

“I haven’t been chosen yet!!!!”

Yura did not look up. Her howling bowing was hiding rage and desperation both. Her arms went limp, and she stayed flat in her bow.

“Rachel, please. It is nowhere close to the season. Around four thousand happy, beautiful women live in One. Nearly all that I have spoken too, even in the darkest midnights, would be honored to be chosen for Anlace. I am one of the very few that would prefer to remain single. It’s got nothing to do with my personal feelings towards anyone. Don’t you…isn’t it unfair that beautiful people have to smile and say yes?”

Rachel was faced with a conundrum. She benefited greatly from the responsibility beautiful male and female regulars bore. She wasn’t part of that group, so she didn’t have to worry about a friendly demon wanting more.

“…I’ve never wanted power through marriage…”

She’s mumbling now.

“…There’s so many…but I am the most beautiful. I was the most popular private singer at the hotel. Everyone told me it was inevitable. Every day. Every year I fear the seasons changing, and I don’t want to live that way. If I can’t have this dream I will go into the woods, and it can have me.”

Someone on patrol will find you before then.

I can personally attest to that.

“Are you truly not at all resentful that you were sent to me as a gift?”

Yura wasn’t crying. The floor under her bowed head was dry. “I am an entertainer and a singer and I was sent to the hotel as a young adult. It's what I trained for, and being talented enough to transfer Enclaves is an accomplishment. I can mop floors too. There’s no need to fuss about the pompous place I came from. I will…”

She broke.

“Sold!”

Yura didn’t laugh.

She had to continue. “The Enclave takes care of all of your basic needs anyhow. It’s no loss for me if I offer you the position, which in turn will guarantee you a citizenship card. You must promise me though. If you are chosen in the future you must go without complaint. I won’t have my name mixed with a traitor.”

“All I desire is a chance to live a different life. It doesn’t matter how long that freedom lasts. I will never even try to avoid that fate, if it is coming. This is enough. Meeting you is more than enough. You are a real softie. We haven’t even hammered out what your percentage of my tips is yet.” Yura was slowly rising to her knees like a wounded beast. Her ripped lips were bleeding profusely, and Rachel found her dream more charming than her first impression.

“Very funny, but stop with the jokes. Keep your tips, but don’t spend them all on drink. Demonic alcohol and human alcohol bottles are highly overpriced in this Enclave due to wagon costs. Your pay won’t cover many luxurious things.”

Yura had dropped her cloak. She forgot it on her wobbly way out.

“Thank you…thank you. Thank you.”

Is she going to pass out?

Rachel left the safe bar barrier behind. Yura wasn’t moving in a straight line.

“Are you all-”

She gagged. Two long, spindly arms had connected behind her back. They were crushing her. The hug was lifting her off the ground.

A singer?

What singer is this damn strong?

She coughed with teary eyes until Yura let her go.

“When should I come in tomorrow?”

She’s crying so hard she can barely see.

“Go upstairs. You can sleep on my couch for now.”

Chapter 17: Year 17 (¿¿¿)

“When should I start singing?”

Why is she already dressed?

Rachel waved her arms, to motion that Yura needed to sit down and stop moving already. Hearing footsteps in the morning had woken her up. She was dressed too, out of politeness.

Yura kept talking over her.

“I noticed that the house is closed. That’s not on my account is it? Is the training you have in mind…intense?”

She doesn’t look afraid of that.

“Yura, I have yet to advertise your presence. Usually I only host one night of singing per week. It gets canceled on average once per month, because I haven’t hired a full time singer. Most of the houses on this street don’t have dedicated singers either. Alot of our demonic helpers spend most of their days outside, for weeks on end. You…seem like you’re used to the high Rankers that regroup and plan with Regulars often. Baam might have told you already, but I’m very new. I don’t think I want you performing more than twice a week. You can help with everything else too. In an ideal world I’d leave you to run this place while I’m outside.”

Yura clutched her stomach then, and her bright smile jerked. “It’s true. You’re not just a scholar. You like it out there.”

“I love it.” She made sure Yura met her eyes at that. “However, this place cannot be opened without a badgeholder inside and I’m not from an established family. I’ve been told that my “closed” sign is rude. So I’d love it if you could sweep the steps, tend some front flowers, and apologize to demons who can’t come in.”

Yura was now faking her enthusiasm. Her pumping, hyper fists were too tightly strung. Her thumbs looked like they were about to pop out.

“I will.”

“You have to. I have very few uses for you. Surely, you’re not afraid of being rude to our heroes? You came here in spite of the deal, on your own two feet.”

Yura’s bright eyes were spinning. “Yes! No, I will do as you ask. An in-person explanation is much better than a closed sign. I will bring good cheer and better rumors to the front door. My songs will seal the deal. I’m confident I can handle any requests, when it comes to vocals. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone more experienced than me.”

She has an accent.

Her voice keeps rising at the end of each sentence.

It’s cute.

“Your job for today is buying a uniform. You’re my only employee and as such you may choose a white blouse and a pant in your personal style. I mostly wear suits, as I wore a uniform in my youth. We’ll mostly match as long as you wear pants. Your distinctive uniform is a foreign concept here. Here, only the badge owners matter. There is no standard color for employees.”

“That makes sense,” Yura looked thoughtful. “I only ever saw the Proprietor from a distance. There were hundreds of us. We had to function as a team, and we weren’t replaceable the way I am here. I will try my hardest.”

We’re nothing alike.

“Do you really not want to try something new?”

“I do not. My second specialty is self-defense, if you are ever interested in learning.”

Rachel tapped her belt. “No need. It would only embarrass me to be seen scuffling. Your Hotel sounds more rowdy to me every minute. This Enclave is not so exciting.”

Yura had yet to sit down. “Defense is the best form of exercise. That’s what I was taught. Do Regulars not train here?”

There was a tinge of real interest in that. “Our valley is stuffed with monstrous beasts. Less Regulars get the opportunity to travel and fighting is very gauche here. Walking in the morning is our fitness passtime, and it’s a bore. That’s why you’ve seen so many tea and coffee carts. Everybody walks. Large carts aren’t actually allowed in without a reason. The few around transport the elderly and food.”

Yura finally sat back down, realizing that no work was ready for her in this strange new place. “It’s all carts where I am. Covered ones, because of all the giant birds. Exercising indoors is the only thing that makes sense. I think I will adore walking for my daily coffee.”

She was rubbing her chin thoughtfully and greedily, thinking of what bean to try first.

“Bring me…erm…I should come with you. Let’s go now.”

I’d like to look competent in front of my employee.

Yura looked at her solemnly. “Allow me to change into your required clothes, and deliver your coffee order to you.”

I’d be a terrible servant.

Just hearing her talk angers me.

“You would deny me my boring morning walk? Please. I am not some highbrow client. I haven’t sniffed around much, but I am sure I am the smallest house. I don’t hold my head too high. Don’t repeat this but I don’t spend much energy running this place. Do you judge me for that?”

Yura was looking out the window.

“I am not sure. Baam sent me here to help you, but I feel no connection to him. I heard of his hard work, but it’s none of my business if my employer is enjoying her life. Who am I to know a demon?”

“They’re not that scary.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Sharp, like a shot bird. Yura’s face was clouded in the light.

I have to make her stop fearing me.

“I understand why they’re scarier to you than me. You’re part of the deal. When I see good-looking people I do sometimes feel a stab of pity. It makes no difference to me if you like Baam or not. I’ve seen the size of his Team. He’s not lonely. Or, are you worried he approached you because…”

Yura shook her head, still obscured. “I know that’s not the case. I…I simply…my new home is so different.”

Rachel shrugged on her longest chocolate brown coat. The perfect color for a coffee run.

I usually do tea, but I want her to relax.

I don't think barking orders will work for me.

“Come on. Stop being overwhelmed. It’s time to move on with your new life. Wear your old uniform. No one is going to recognize it. One gets alot of guests and important travelers, but not here. Here, you’re just wearing blue.”

Yura re-tied her scarf around her neck. Her hair went up in a bun, and then she looked the way she did the day before.

I did brush my hair before coming out to her.

Her neatness makes my nesting feel more sloppy.

I hope I like her.

Throwing away a gift is more awkward than refusing one.

I was surprisingly confident yesterday, but now I’m even more sure she’s actually here for me.

Should I be flattered?

Is it actually possible that he knows me well enough to send me someone who doesn’t like him?

She shook her head.

Yura opened the front door for her, and she checked if the closed sign was still flipped. Already sliding into her door duty job.

This will be good fod me.

“Should we go to that one?”

The closest cart was too plain for her newly refined tastes.

“Always go to the furthest cart you can see. There and back is the perfect length for a walk.”

Yura squinted. A cute reaction. “Oh my, the far one is purple!"

She was correct. Their target was a push cart wreathed in a deep purple tablecloth. The lineup wasn’t too long.

I haven’t seen that one before.

I’ve gotten spoiled. Used to the fancy drinks served on this street. I hope it’s not someone sneaking in from the Regular neighborhood.

I’d like to impress Yura with the best.

“Should I go to that linen store?”

“After, yes.”

“I love looking up and not seeing any wings.” Yura breathed in deeply. “Some of the shadows were larger than the hotel itself.”

Her joy was too loud.

People were staring in amusement at the joyous and gorgeous young woman.

This isn’t so bad.

Yura’s long strides took them to the cart quickly.

Rachel pointed downward, to show Yura the menu.

“Lavender coffee? Wow.”

That’s a weird one.

Good for a new arrival, I suppose.

She read the menu with Yura, equally new but less excited.

Salted lavender ice. Salted lavender cold coffee. Honey lavender hot coffee.

A short menu, but it must be expensive. Half of it is frozen with ice.

Where are the prices?

It...can't be...

They were next in line.

Her smile was trying to match Yura’s. Their shoulders were touching. They already looked like friends. Rachel realized her blunder a moment too late.

Damn it all.

It’s a promotion.

I should have known as soon as I saw ice on the menu.

“Good morning Rachel! I am so shocked to see you. I thought you were out again. Could it be? My product is more magnetic than I thought to get you out here.”

I have to know her name.

Her family runs the house diagonal from mine. They have three small properties.

We’re fellow small fish.

That’s why she’s acting so familiar.

Lee Sowa.

That's not a big name.

Please be right.

“Good morning Sowa. I must ask what you are promoting.”

It’s not flowery ice that’s for fucking sure.

Sowa prepared a palm sized glass plate for each of them anyway, without explaining. Despite the veiled discomfort clearly surging in her eyes. It was a delicate preparation. The three glasses made shot glasses look large in comparison. It was all free. An invitation of sorts. The fine print was right below the menu. Passersby kept eagerly and quickly lining up, but no line grew. Sowa was too fast. Too professional. Her straight brown bangs had been pinned with at least five barrettes. Her red sleeves were edged with purple, and gold. Despite her plain face she dressed with flash. A badge holders assistant with something to prove.

Something she preferred to avoid.

“It looks so delicious!” Yura was busy heaping compliments onto Sowa. She did not blink when the cart owner did not ask for a payment. She assumed it was yet another cultural difference.

We’re fucked.

Rachel wanted to dig a hole and hide in it. She was already holding her own crystalline glass tray. It was balanced perfectly in her palm. The perfect size. A luxurious experience in one hand. Yura used her tiny silver spoon first. The crushed ice in the dessert cup looked like painted snow. Her spoon automatically went there, towards the attractive purple syrup.

“Did you make this?”

Sowa was politely flattered by Yura’s fawning. “With some help. My brother and I have to put in alot of extra work. We have a mediation coming up. Are you Rachel’s friend?”

“I am her employee.”

“Of course. Yes, that is to be expected. I wouldn’t attend a mediation by myself as well. You can both come. It’s three nights from now, and the menu will be far more fantastical than this. I plan on making the crushed ice shine like jewels. We have spared no expense…”

Yura was having trouble keeping up.

I have to take over.

She tried the iced coffee. “Mm. You look so different with your hair back. I almost did not recognize you. Will you be sending someone to pick us up, even though we live on the same street? There’s really no…”

If there’s no pickup I can accuse her of rudeness and not show up.

“No expense will be spared. I assure you Rachel. Our house has gone above and beyond in preparation. We are hoping for eight to make it to the night, and our best wishes are going to be extended to the family.”

Eight?

That’s stupidly arrogant.

I’ll be shocked if one gets approved.

They’re trying to show off.

The hot drink was her favorite. Other people were finishing their samples, and returning their trays.

Yura was a fast eater.

Damn.

Sowa nearly burned Yura’s eyebrows off with a door glare, when the woman tried to return her icy palmful of cups.

“You may keep your trays.”

“My new employee wasn’t sure you would approve of her. You’ve made her day.”

Sowa’s neck made the smallest cracking noise when she turned her head. “As if I would turn away a badge holder. You must be joking.”

Her hands were still moving, preparing more ice.

The public has been warned.

A mediation will take place.

Those in the crowd taking the cups home have been invited.

This is an excessive gift.

Yura is worth less.

The tiny cups are pretty, but they aren’t the star of the show.

The little plate is still frozen cold.

It’s permanent.

I don’t even want to know what rare material it’s made of. Such a detailed crystal shine too.

This must be the first mediation for the house.

I haven’t done one yet.

“Rachel?”

Sowa’s intense gaze had melted back to normal.

“Are you waiting on my brother? I’m sorry but he hasn’t looked up from the paperwork side of things in days. I will ensure that he greets you when you arrive.”

Sowa bowed, because she was not a badge holder. Her father and her brother held the responsibility.

“See to that.”

Rachel turned on her heel, and she balanced Yura’s arm. The precious plate was tilting in her hands.

“Hold that more carefully. How much do you know about mediation?”

Yura's straight posture failed. “A what?”

“You’re staying with me for the next three days too. We can’t step a toe out of line. I can’t even leave the walls if I want to, until this is over. It is our priority.”

Yura sped up with her. They were immediately going home after getting caught in a coffee trap.

“Is it part of the deal?”

“No, and that means the result isn’t guaranteed. I…I intended to never attend or host one. It’s a fairly rare event. I will educate you. Close the door.”

Yura did so.

Fast.

Chapter 18: Year 17 (♡)

“It’s perfect.”

I shouldn’t be so positive.

They were shopping off the rack, in a store lined with glass mirrors. It wasn’t too busy. Yura had a decent amount of time to learn how to blend in.

What a lovely smile.

Yura raised up the long, light green cloak even higher.

A nod.

A nod back.

A vanished shadow.

The scent of wax candles burning during the daytime, simply for the scent.

It almost feels like a day of fun.

Her new acquisition could not feel the urgency.

My pulse is out of control.

I’ll be questioned at this rate.

Her eyes were having trouble focusing too. She looked to be in poor health. Being fussed over by anyone on patrol was the last thing she wanted.

As a last resort she tried to channel Yura.

It was easy enough to blend in with the woman she was shopping with.

Yura was ever-prepared. Not put off at all by the idea of attending some stuffy event.

She was.

After a day of bluffing and fluffing around they were shopping. Rachel, the one in charge, wasn’t prepared in the slightest. Yura didn’t know all the details because she lacked confidence. She had accidently made the mediation sound like a masquerade party.

Stay quiet.

Cover your face.

Eat an excessively luxurious treat if it goes well.

Maybe I made the process sound too easy for Yura.

Yura daringly raised a light pink cloak with a larger hood. She did not get a darling, sweet response in kind.

“No. The green will be wearable for work as well, so I will buy it for you.”

“You’re such a generous boss. Tonight is the night. Do you think I need to be briefed beforehand?”

Considering that you are a foreigner and I danced around all the real issues yes.

She smiled back at Yura. A yes should have come out.

“Nothing bad will happen…inside the house. The meal afterwards may leave a bad taste in your mouth though.”

Yura sounded light and breezy. “I don’t think so.”

“How can you be so certain?”

You’re also too sure of me.

Are you a fool?

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t experiencing culture shock, but this is a very progressive Enclave. I’m happy I get to dive in head first, so I don’t act too conservative in front of your clientele. Every time I pass out on your couch, worrying, I’m thinking about how to fit in. If you don’t want me to have rabid fans that give you gifts for sponsoring me…I need to change.” She flipped her hair at that, like an extra accessory would help that transformation.

That does sound different, but I don’t have time to learn about the mountain peoples. My hands are full, and I need to grasp the main point before I set her up for failure.

What if she throws up?

I can make her wash bar glasses in the back room, somewhere unseen.

She wants better though.

“We are shopping last minute because everyone will be dressed similarly. Even the hosts. This is exactly how I will be dressed.”

She motioned towards her half caplet, which was hiding a long skirt that matched. “As you can see it’s all the same color and the hood can cover my entire face. I thought it would be too depressing to buy you something ugly, so that subtle color will do.”

Yura had a sticky question. “Why do you have to look ugly? I thought this pink one would suit you.”

It was a warm thought. The candles were flickering in the mirrors, and she could see hundreds of shades that weren’t grey. Those options would reflect badly on her as a badge holder.

“I’m the one with power in the room tonight, so it would be tacky for me to try and stand out. We’re supporting a smaller house by showing up. No one would be able to say a thing against me if I showed up without a hood, but I would never show off my status at a mediation. It's not about me, or the hosts, or even the Ranker that will be watching. I really don’t think I’m going to enjoy being involved in such a personal matter.” Her sigh shook a row of silk scarves next to her.

Yura folded her greenish choice over her arm. “I won’t make you shop then. You’ve been fretting like a bird all day. I know exactly how to act, but can I please ask why you’re not telling me what the mediation is for?”

Her knees knocked together when she followed Yura. Her subordinate had a weird tendency. Which was walking in front of her, even though she was supposed to be the one teaching. She was secretly flattered that Yura felt comfortable with her. She operated like a social butterfly, and she slept like a log. Her scripted perfection had shifted to reveal a good companion, and she had to return that goodness with information. Their relationship would never be entirely pure, as Yura had been delivered to her.

I have got to stop beating around the bush.

“We don’t technically have to know. We’re not supposed to. A mediation takes place when a human, or a regular, that has been taken for Anlace has questions for their new partner. Requests, really. The other people present are supposed to show support by numbers. It’s an easy way to get a demon to understand these requests are important. The conversation between them will be by written notations on their table. We won’t actually see or hear anything. The questions are often the same, as you can imagine. No one wants to lose their old family, since divorce has been normal for humanity for centuries. Pretending not to know is only common courtesy.”

She thought Yura was scared, and she felt sorry. Her chin had suddenly raised, and she looked even taller.

“They get a choice? That’s not part of the deal.”

“I know. It’s an individual relationship matter, which can be argued to qualify as fine print.”

Yura paid before she could open her pouch. She looked thoughtful. “There is no mediation where I come from. Based on what you told me I thought we were attending a divorce hearing between two humans. How novel! The lack of flying beasts down here has tipped the scales alot.”

“Yura-”

“I never liked watching families dis-”

She jerkily waved an arm in front of Yura’s pretty pout, to shut her up.

“The mediation usually fails.”

“Ah.”

“The vast majority of Enclave residents are against it.”

“I see.”

“Only well-known families, badge holders, and the children of teachers or doctors get this privilege. It’s more of a wealthy taboo than a freedom.”

Yura blushed hard from immature shame. “I should keep my mouth shut in public about it then. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You didn’t know. Obviously, the children of doctors and badge holders are particularly valuable. Throwing them away for Anlace leaves property up for grabs and rare lessons wasted. That’s all it is.”

She’ll soon grow less naïve, as I did.

“The curse of the beautiful…” Yura was saying that to herself, but it made her heart twitch.

They were almost home.

“Any saved life is a good thing. I’ve always thought of it that way.”

Yura respectfully opened the door for her, hyper-aware of her position now.

How do I fix this?

She kept talking. Hating the stuffiness that was growing. “I…I mean imagine not liking your wife, and you were planning on divorcing, and baam! The season is upon you and you get dragged into the woods.”

Yura did laugh, but she didn’t look back.

“I will get ready right away.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“You look at me strangely when I stand in front of you. Sorry for that too. It’s hard to be outside and know there is nothing in the sky. I’m too used to being the bait. I used to like being brave, when I did get to go out.”

The stairs creaked.

“I knew it sounded too good to be true.”

I know.

She returned in minutes.

Yura knew how to be serious. Her green hood hid all of her fantastical hair, which had been bunched up with pins. They looked like genderless chess pieces.

It's natural for us to favor other humans, but I’m not too invested in the results.

As long as the Ranker doesn’t need to step in I can wait.

I can eat my cake and leave.

Yura was very close behind her. Her billowing cloak kept bumping. It was closer than holding hands. The walk was short. Her time to think had come to an end. One of the many, many D&D duties she had avoided was here. Sunset was coming, and the mediation process would of course end at night. Then, the Ranker would make sure the devil on trial was out of sight.

Out of mind, while everyone else remained as a wall of witnesses.

Just to make sure.

Of what, she did not dare to know.

Even the most obvious questions were supposed to be hushed and private.

“There you are, Rachel!”

I hate being important.

“You’ll be seated at the front with us.”

Damn.

Sowa’s brother had come to greet them, or rather her, as promised. He looked ready to hold a badge, and his respect for her was like iron. It had to be. Ceremony gave all of them meaning. Even an upstart like him, who had to bow to a crippled father who only owned one house. One of the few smaller than hers.

Yura was ready.

Rachel copied her.

He pulled his hood up immediately. Sowa was already faceless inside. His name didn’t matter to her. Complete silence was expected until both mediated parties had left the building.

Even his father would receive no greetings from her. He took them all the way to the front in his rippling purple cloak, which was easy enough to follow.

She could feel the heat.

Twenty tables had been shoved into a dining hall smaller than her own. They were all touching the walls. One in five guests had to sit squirming, pressed up against solid back-breaking brick. The “front” table was another circlet of five, nearest to the rectangular mediation table. It was short. Short enough to slide a letter across without issue.

It's sparkly and toasty.

More like a wedding than...this...

All of the tables had been wrapped in velvet, and tiny stones were reflecting shards of flame. These fires had a purpose. Every corner of the room had to be lit, and it had to look better than usual to welcome a Ranker.

I’ve never seen curtains that long.

Sowa’s family was shrouded in dark purple to match the walls. The color caught the high sunset well. It played with the flames, and above the sky high curtains came the last seat. An uncomfortable looking shelf covered in layers of draped fabric. Where the Ranker would sit and observe everything the demon being questioned would do. Without any interruption. It would be their foremost duty. Even though the seat lay empty the crowd was calm. Aware that the scheduled Ranker even had to follow their charge for the evening outside.

It would be like a shadow.

In and out.

It would be impolite to look up.

Two stacks of paper sat in opposition a step from her elbow.

It’s too crammed.

They shouldn’t have accepted this request.

I, at the very least, can see everything.

Even the sweat on Yura’s hand.

She touched Yura’s shoulder before she could stop herself. Yura made it look natural, like an order, when she started pouring ice water. A servant focused on serving, with no fear or anticipation.

Her frowning lips were hidden inside her hood.

It’s not water.

Overly fragrant lemon tea mixed with ice isn’t the best idea. The sourness will get watered down to unpleasantness.

She drank anyway.

The human came in first. Enrobed in white. An easy color to spot in the sparkling abyss. That part of the planning wasn’t too sour. The couple was going to stand out as they should.

I can’t help myself.

Her head did dip a bit.

She wanted to see inside the white hood. Yura had not been chosen. By all accounts it was likely the star of tonight’s show was even more striking. Perhaps even more so than her demon.

Thwarted.

She’s wearing a lacy mask under her hood.

It’s even covering her throat.

The demon had arrived, and the nameless glowing stars began writing.

I want to be bored so much, and peeking is bad, but I’m sure I can see.

What issues are there in mixed relationships?

Perhaps it’s not so obvious, and my gossip with Yura has no bearing on reality.

The spoiled beauty that demanded this meeting doesn’t seem upset.

Even though I’m so close.

Maybe she doesn’t have a husband or children, and they’re discussing how many months will be spent outside.

When doctors are needed exceptions are made.

She could be one.

The sound of scribbling felt less damning and more petty. There were no tears, and she felt no need to look up at the Ranker on standby.

This mediation might be hosted here because…it’s not all that important.

What a relief.

She was closer to the demon’s side. The only chair closer belonged to Sowa’s father, and that meant his back was turned away from the action.

He's missing out.

Let’s see what nonsense this picky couple is arguing about.

Her head tipped to the side this time. To peek and indulge in more gossip to share with Yura.

I’m a fast reader.

I’ll get that page before he hands it off.

A love of studying nature did not let her skip a single word.

She swallowed wrong.

The sour taste ruined her. A stifled cough accompanied her insane heart rate. Her ribcage crawled around inside her like a spider. Her feet readjusted under and over the velvet, like she was being shoved.

“Ugh-”

There was a deeper silence.

It did not take long.

"Kranos."

An shiny boot landed on the table, lightly. Only the candles next to their shared inkwell stirred. A pointed red spear that looked too heavy for anyone to carry came out. The end of it poked the demon's neck. She silently took in the rounded hunk of rock that was supposed to be a stabbing weapon. Clearly, it was meant to pierce through beings hundreds of times her size. It looked more like a bulky parasol than a spear, and it was surging with power.

Too many raised heartbeats warranted a Ranker checking in.

I’m supposed to have better control.

It was true. As the sole badge holder for a house her reaction meant everything. It had made everyone else nervous. Including, most unfortunately of all, the bride. Who had shaking fingers, and a bent neck.

It looked like her head was about to hit the table.

The Ranker lifted it up, avoiding all possible injuries.

Being near a Ranker isn’t fun for most people.

I should have been staring at my empty ice plate.

Two hands hit the mediation table, and the Ranker checked all of the notes for any threats. Kranos had been left on the floor like trash. She didn’t beat the demon unconscious, so everything shared was above board.

She’s a tall one.

Rachel’s head twisted, too much, again.

Do I know her?

She did recognize one thing. The Ranker in charge was wearing a huge wreath of red petals around her ponytail. Her ink black hair ran all the way to her ankles, even though it was being held up.

“You can start again.”

She looked.

I forget her name, but I saw her with Baam once.

The Ranker didn’t inspect her in return, because there wasn’t much to see.

Her only concern was at the table.

I should be professional too.

I don’t even know how many friends Baam has now.

The renewed scribbling made her focus. She looked into the crowd. Not at the table, or at the Ranker. Which eventually brought her eyes to Yura, who was doing better than her.

It's…odd.

She’s in green too. A short dress covered in pockets. It’s the same boring shade as Yura’s outfit.

She forgot what was on the paper to her left.

What an odd coincidence.

Chapter 19: Year 17 (♡♡)

It’s cold and crumbly.

The taste didn’t register on her tongue, but the closing dish soothed her throat. All writing had stopped. Capes were shuffling, and everyone wanted to leave.

Forget what you saw.

Tis the season.

The curse.

That beautiful woman, hiding in her creamy robes, knew what might happen when she grew up.

It’s normal.

What wasn’t so normal was her own presumptuous nature. She wanted so badly to impress Yura. Someone she barely knew. A less-than-a roommate who had yet to become useful. Her constant trips outside, out into the woods, had made her a clumsy badge holder. Peeking for gossip scraps was beneath her, and the couple that magically became “friends” when spring fell away was not her business. Not meant for idle chatter.

Perhaps they were both angry in those letters, and such emotions are acceptable. I’d like to believe that. Flaws make a relationship whole in those few soft booklets I borrow.

I shouldn’t have looked.

I shouldn’t have looked.

I shouldn’t have looked.

She wanted to smash her nose against her hands, needing a wall to punish herself. Or that rapping stick her teachers liked to use on her, before she was allowed to choose her own clothing. In some ways Rachel did not feel grown up, even though she had experienced more than most regulars. Her fits of whimsy too often pushed her to do the wrong thing, and now she had egg on her face.

Staring at her, the most influential person in the room, was offensive. It was happening anyways, because why wouldn’t it?

Even Evan questioned why.

The whole truth was like mist, flitting away with time. When Rachel was totally sober, in her office, she wondered if she had missed too much. If enjoying her privileges was too naive and she had to be even harder, even though she didn't want to be.

My heartbeat is calm, because I committed no wrong. Looking. My pulse. Those things are usually the concern of much wealthier badges.

After I leave, I can go back to my dreams.

She resolved to turn on her special internal light tonight, for a romantic reading. The coming darkness wasn’t boding well for her. She wanted to banish it, and she had just the body for it. Her blood bound blessing was a mere parlor trick, but it was soothing too. She wondered if Yura would like it. Maybe like to be near it while they read over something particularly vain. No more cultural exchange. Just light and sleeping like two logs. She came back to her seat in a blink. Yura was watching her. Worried for her. No.

Even a foreigner like her knew the mediation had not gone perfectly.

The Ranker, nameless but recognizable in Rachel’s blurry past, was still down on the ground. Her hand lay on the grooms shoulder, ready to force him outside after all the humans left the building.

This was why the Enclave was against such mediation.

It was a perversion.

Often perceived as a violation of the deal that kept everyone warm in their beds.

Rankers alone cannot protect us.

That is not a slogan. Worse, it is a fact.

When the bride left first she didn’t get any supportive nods. Her supposed supporters had measured her by value, and the public was very astringent to say the least. What are you worth? It’s a wildly inappropriate question in a world where everyone gets a chance. Demonkind gets a chance to fight for something more. Humankind has the right to survive.

A beautiful sentiment, until notepads start scratching and individual lives come into play.

Sowa’s brother was escorting the woman out. She had a tail. Loppy rows of white circles and more lace dripped down her back as she left. The cloying curtains had hidden the extra precautions on her. Her robes hid everything from the shape of her to the length of her.

She’s gone.

Yura rose with her.

High ranking guests get to leave first.

They breathed, in the twilight.

Wisely the two ladies took to silence. Rachel did use her status to avoid goodbyes. She didn’t look back, and Yura didn’t have to either. Yura’s cute caplet swished. Rachel wanted to be in her smoothest nightgown. The one edged with embroidered sunny flowers.

Yura’s relief was real, but Rachel’s eyes refused to stop wandering.

She saw a flash.

A sight that should have been comforting.

The supervising Ranker was walking in the alley behind the main road of houses. With them, but so far away. Her wave of impossibly long hair always vanished last behind each house. The middling devil clutched in her left paw was a baby to her. Easily dragged along, despite his anger.

Kranos.

The Subjugation Weapon on her back was even more comforting than the Ranker herself. A single slash would absolutely obliterate the baby in her grip.

I’m almost home already.

She stared at the “Closed” sign on her door. Suddenly, truly guilty for not providing the services she should.

“Rachel. We should go in.” Yura was less than a whisper. “I think we both need to lay down.”

That’s very true.

It opened.

They were in her house, and it was so much bigger. Even her wall of bottles looked lavish. Her high ceilings. Her slim windows. Natural light longed to enter her badge address.

“I’m going to peel back the curtains early from now on.”

“Great idea, boss!”

"Kiss ass."

They ascended the steps on wooden legs.

I’m not going to make it to my bedroom.

Her skin filled with light.

Yura looked too relieved. “I like being a little stronger, but you’re very unique. I’ve never seen someone like you.”

I’ve met lots of strong regulars, and I envy them.

“Thank you. I used to nap in that armchair before you took over the living room.”

The implication was small.

Her living room wasn’t barren like her bed chamber. She wanted to be cozy tonight.

Yura yawned, and she pulled on a crochet blanket. They were still in their robes. “Thank you for staying with me. Goodnight. Don’t turn off the lights.”

She didn’t. Yura did not know that meant she had to stay awake. She had to think bright to stay on, but that was fine by her. Yura started snoring like a whistle. The gauzy upstairs curtains were all closed. The moon had come. Light, from her, was dancing on Yura’s cheeks.

What continued to possess her to stay awake?

Did I ever learn her name?

Baam can’t ever be as strong as her.

It’s not possible.

Her memories could not help but compare the two demons. It wasn’t a generous comparison. Baam’s messy hood and hair was an embarrassment next to the slinky Ranker. She pondered over why F.U.G had bothered to invest in such a boy, with women like that Ranker to command.

I’m fully awake now.

She changed into that gown, which was more for reading than sleeping. Despite her desire for silliness her hands remained empty. Clasped together. She only ever glanced back at Yura, with her light shining bright.

Unable to look away from the windows.

Light casts shadows.

She could see where people stood, when she had it on. The gauze made it more obvious. The silhouette was too distinct.

The Ranker, who she did not know, had come up.

The same long form was crouching on her windowsill.

She did not call out, but her badge was always on her person. It did not offer perfect protection. Only a threat, and that wouldn’t be necessary.

The Ranker has come to tell me off personally, about my unprofessional heartbeat.

I’m never attending anything ever again.

Forget it.

I’ll let Yura sing, and I’ll be home by….

Her nails were gold.

“No.”

I still want to go out, and I can’t run from the sunset. That’s the privilege I fought for.

The shape in the window had gone. She prepared to leave the sleepy floor. She was about to open the door and accept her guest.

I have a bad feeling.

She squashed it.

The steps were easy and familiar to follow with her light.

I should be used to this creaking.

Bottles began to glimmer. Her abandoned casual bar looked extra poisonous lit by her. The greens were darker.

I’ll swing the door open and say I saw her.

It’s night, but I am here. Sulking about looks silly around me.

Her ankle bowed. She felt it intimately.

The weight on that bride.

None of them can be here after darkness falls.

Telling me off it’s a community emergency or a fire.

Am I really dreaming?

When she reached the bottom of the stairs there was a clatter. A slappening of bare feet on wood. The halo around her revealed Yura bouncing down disheveled, holding a broomstick.

“Um…”

They stared at each other, immobilized. Unsure of what to expect or why they were both dreaming up curses.

Must have been the close up sight of ink bleeding into those ugly, damned purple curtains.

Yura was staring beyond her now, which didn’t seem good.

“I heard a noise.”

I didn’t.

A little stronger often meant a little better too. Her ears had not been so blessed. If Yura heard a sound it was likely not a dream, and they were really together. Crowded at the bottom of the stairs in her hazy halo.

Waiting and hoping for a mouse to run by.

It didn’t happen, and Rachel had their eyes. She stepped three slow paces away from Yura. Bringing the bar into view.

“There’s the source of the…the…”

Noise.

Yura mouthed that.

There on the ground lay two bar stools, and Kranos. Due to its strange cylindrical shape it had fallen over. After being propped up all by its lonesome against her bar.

She didn’t have to go any further.

Only her gaze needed to move.

Be brave.

The way you are when you walk off the beaten pathway smiling.

She did it. A dimpled smile greeted the stranger she should have known.

Her flat voice was full of charm.

“I’m Yuri.”

It’s not the same color. I just recognized that pocket dress. It was at the boutique. She was there too. 

Don’t tell me she has a letter from Baam, and I’m in trouble for ignoring my precious demonic friend.

If only that sweet delusion were correct.

A stick moved in front of her. It even brushed her cheek. Yura could see it all too. Yuri was still holding the dissatisfied groom.

“What do you want?”

Three of her fingers were inside him. In his neck, and the joint at his struggling shoulder. The mediation had left the devil fuming. He should have been alone in a swamp, getting spanked by Kranos. For being a naughty boy.

That wasn’t happening.

Kranos is too heavy for me, or anyone, to pick up.

It’s the only thing that can save me.

Us.

How sadistic.

Her bare arms moved in front of Yura’s broom. There they were. Two awkward little women, fighting over who would die first.

“I remember you, Yuri.”

“You do? Gee thanks.”

She wasn’t grateful.

There must be someone stronger than her. She weighed her own value before she came.

Yuri’s fingers tore in deeper, to frustrate her charging bull more.

What can I do to save myself?

She forgot to think of Yura, but isn’t that human self-preservation? It’s probably what saved her.

“You don’t want to let go of…that. I have a guest coming.”

“Oh? Who?”

I hate her voice. I’d love to here her sing, low and cool. Her and Yura would bring society to it’s knees.

“Aren’t you still friends with Baam? Didn’t he tell you?”

Yuri’s red eyes did not believe her. “I didn’t see a return letter, and you annoy me…”

Her pointed nails began to slide out of the meat.

“I write him in secret, you dullard.”

Offense made her nails clench, leaving the leaking groom hanging.

I’m a bad "friend".

I knew that, but I also knew demons aren’t allowed to retaliate about that. Humans are allowed to be bad friends. Friendship isn’t quite so black and white for us. I can’t act innocent. I know why she’s here. One of Baam’s very oldest friends. There since the start before I even sent him away to work. It can’t have been easy in F.U.G if righteous vengeance for a friend is here.

“Think, Yuri…”

Don’t stop now.

“…my options were few. We meet outside to talk. Letters aren’t prudent. All of his begging and gift-giving is an act. I…in…additionally I asked for a companion out of loneliness, because I miss him dearly. This is who he found for me. Yura, say hello.”

Yura coughed a huge ball of phlegm on the floor. “H-h…”

“Now that the hellos are over we’d like to go back to bed.”

“I’m not sure if I believe you.”

The thrashing at the end of her light made her the best actress in the world.

“If I was lying Baam wouldn’t be as happy-go-lucky as he is. I did name him. Being apart is hard. It took years for me to make it work. Why…why do you think I neglect my duty so much? Why do you think I’m out there so much? It’s not just for the sake of new sights.”

She had not seen his face since that day.

If Baam wasn’t “happy”, which was a far-fetched guess, her life was over.

She had doomed Yura too.

Yuri stalked over to Kranos, and she kicked it up like a kid with a ball.

“You should have let him tell us.”

“I have my own problems in here on the human end.”

I really don’t.

“Don’t try to get me punished. I’m more important than you.”

The man on her arm frothed.

In that second she felt more angry for the bride than herself.

It wasn’t quick.

Yuri left with her twitching toy assassin like no one would dare to follow. She was right and it stung and she left through the front door like nothing was wrong.

Yura’s broom was still tripping up her feet.

“Stop that. It’s time to go to bed. We’ll open the store early…the day after tomorrow.”

She could feel Yura’s tremors in the air. The broom sat next to the garbage bin, awaiting their next grand battle.

Her light could not remain on forever.

She had to rest too.

The night came as always.