"Sentient beings always think they have the upper hand when it comes to me. It's because I led them to believe such things. It is much easier to make new deals when you have a reputation of not screwing over your clients. I always get what I am due regardless." ~ The God of Oaths/First Devil

The fire seemed to almost be a distant sensation as Serena focused on the source of the voice. Blinded and mute, she couldn’t address it, but she had the sinking feeling the speaker would be able to understand her words.

If you are going to tease me in such a manner, it would be better to fade away.

“And here I was going to offer you my help,” the male voice huffed. The sound of rattling chains, of primal screams from dying throats, and the caw of crows echoed in the distance.

Serena frowned underneath the mask, her mind connecting to who was likely here. One of the Ancients, spoken into being with the first binding words of the Storyteller...At least that is how it is passed down through the empire. The First Devil, the Oathkeeper, had taken a personal interest in her.

I know better than to blindly trust the Lord of Lies, Serena thought, though there was no viciousness to her words. Much of her formal personality traits had been chipped away with the abuse and no longer needed to play diplomat. Still, only a fool would try to fight with one of the survivors of the first deicide.

The gods fell, mortals ascended and prospered, and they too would be destroyed. History does not repeat, but there are patterns, which was why having a Loremaster was so vital to the stability of the Celestial Empire.

“What a smart girl,” the Devil crooned. He seemed far more pleased than upset with her lack of respect. “Few remember that name, and even less would dare be gutsy.”

If you were going to hurt me, you would have done so or just simply let me die.

“That would be a waste. It is so rare to find someone of your potential, lineage, and condition. I would be amiss to not take advantage of this opportunity.”

So a pawn or a tool? Serena thought, grimacing at how that had been her life until now.

“Not a tool. A representative or right hand would be a better phrase. Besides, even if you were a tool, it would be better than dying.”

Serena decided not to even respond to that and the Devil went on with his sales pitch.

“You can not consult a lawyer before making a covenant with me.”

That happens often?

“You have no idea. Lawyers are a special kind of evil.” That said a lot came from a being that was more neutral or seen as dark.

You need my help, and more than that you need my permission to act in regards to me, Serena realized, and that changed everything for her. The terms of the negotiation will be allowed to be changed and updated, by either side. Said terms and conditions must be fulfilled, by either party, to the spirit, intent, and letter of the covenant. Do not mistake some ideas or desires to do what you want with the excuse of meeting the demands of the contract.

The man was silent in consideration, and the flames moved higher. Screams were ripped from her throat as the fires licked at her bare feet, scorching and scarring the flesh. She writhed in pain, twisting and trying to escape the encroaching blaze. The blistering agony made thinking a chore but she hung to his words.

“Very well. I will tell you my plans when we reunite. Suffice to say that you would be rather relieved at the possibilities. For most, you will be acting as my second, my ward if you will.” The First Devil hesitated for a moment. “Is there anything I can do to show the sincerity of my words?”

You can start by having me not die. That would be great.

“That would defeat the purpose of this covenant.”

Then I want to be ungodly powerful, keep my name, keep my abilities or knowledge, or at the very least be able to relearn them, have tons of friends, have limitless wealth, and all reality will bend to my will. Serena responded, sarcasm and spite dripping from her thoughts

The Devil was no doubt bewildered and amused by this turn, and brought up an interesting idea. “Would you like me to add in the Harem and Yandere clauses, just in case?”

Those are gimmicks and everyone knows it.

The pain soon became too much and she barely felt fingers at the edge of the mask.

“It’s over. You can rest for now.”

In the beginning, there was only light. Then came a gentle sensation of floating, a brief

repose. There was warmth and a vague restlessness, provoking a desire for Serena to remain in the emptiness.

There was no pain in the Void, just endless energy that she was infused by. Her heart beat a few times, almost as if returning to a normal state due to the energy. She could see once again, and in the emptiness was the start of everything. Twinkling stars and galaxies were borne and died around her, creating new dimensions, realities, and lifeforms in the process.

Life moved on, leaving her as the recorder of their fates. Not that she minded.

In a daze, she had nearly forgotten herself and become one with the void.

Before she could linger on such things for long, sensation returned to her. A moment later, her mind registered the cold and the touch of rain on her skin. From the heat of the flame to nothingness and finally, to be cleansed in water, the sudden onslaught of alien yet once familiar sensations caused panic. Serena began writhing in distress, caught up in a violent struggle to breathe. The pain was nearly unbearable as the lungs—the entire body, each and every cell—cried out for oxygen. Unable to remain calm enough for rational thought, all she could do was thrash about.

The overwhelmed, unresponsive senses ravaged by agony left no option other than flailing in pain. Strangled by these things, she easily lost consciousness. Fully free of the emotions of an entity who hadn’t wept in ages, Serena sobbed instinctively.

Marama stared down at the corpses with a complicated expression. The warrior had come to the village of Ferina to hunt some Mist-corrupted monsters, but the streets had been deserted. She didn’t know if it was due to the attacks or the rain, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

A bolt of lightning had illuminated the darkness of an alleyway for a few moments, revealing an all too familiar sight. There were several bodies of dead and gutted men, leaning against the walls. Cold, glazed-over eyes stared out of their skulls as hot fumes emitted from the gaping wound in their abdomen. Rats burrowed into the large hole in their stomachs with their tails twitching in the rain.

This was likely several ogres who were behind the massacre and would be easy enough to deal with. It’s the two newborns that are going to cause me a headache.

There were two more bodies, one she supposed, along with a healthy and living baby boy. The heavily pregnant woman was attacked while trying to find someplace to give birth, only for the ogres to jump the men. She went into labor and had a stillborn child and a healthy one.

This wasn’t an unusual sight for the monster hunter either, as she had long come to believe that sentient beings were the true monsters.

What was surprising was that the little girl came back to life, though in great pain before she passed back out.

Corpseborn, huh? The Institute would love to see one up close.

Marama averted her eyes from the scavengers and searched the woman’s body for any kind of identification. There was some plain-looking jewelry on her body, that a glance over with any kind of sensing ability would show up as magical in nature. They were likely modified to hide whatever purpose or worth they had. Likewise, there were hidden containers filled with a good amount of supplies, jewels, trading goods, and money.

A merchant or a run-away noblewoman? I suppose it doesn’t matter.

The armored woman nodded to herself in thought, pocketing the items into a small pouch. She then placed a magical seal so only the two children could open them. She could already hear her teacher complain about putting a storage device inside another storage device. Marama never cared about theoretical things. If it ended up causing a rift in dimensions, it just meant more work and pay.

Satisfied for the moment, Marama cleaned the newborns as best she could before using the mother’s clothing as swaddling. Finished for the moment, she picked up the babies in her arms and continued on.

She walked forward as she went through the details of this mission. The heavy tapping of rain hit the roofs around her as only sound while her feet sunk in the mud.

The village of Ferina has a serious problem. Dozens of have shown up over the weeks and the villagers suspected that there were one or more Mist-Corrupted beings hiding amongst them. There should be four.

The heavy rain made the mood among the villagers even worse, along with raising paranoia that a monster lurked in one of the houses somewhere. That was the reason for all the closed windows and reinforced hatches over them.

Marama took a slow look around as she noticed the wooden signs that revealed stores, a blacksmith, and three different taverns. Outsiders couldn't enter them at the moment.

The hooded figure reached a silent conclusion. They're terrified, which I can’t blame them for. So which one is the village chief´s house?

Marama threw one glance at the largest building illuminated by another lightning bolt across the sky. The hooded figure sighed in a bored manner as she headed straight towards it with slow and steady feet.