Thal

Amy

She sipped her tea, tasting the piping hot ginger lemon. It was a delicious break from the destruction she caused earlier. The delectable cheese tray of her own make was an added bonus. Being a cheesemaker was not for the faint of heart. This was the main reason for her unfavored title. Cheesemaking was an art and science. It took an experienced maker to create the amazing treats she feasted upon and she had three millennia’s worth of it. The impromptu tea party was held in the middle of a forest outcropping near the road. Her demons and new minions were enjoying themselves.

“Alistair, eh? Don’t see many kids these days!”

Sable, the elderly man made of bones wrapped in leathery flesh let out a wheezing laugh.

“Not a kid.”

Alistair sat across from him, deciphering the odd table instruments. It was his first tea party.

“You look like a kid,” the elderly man shot back.

“Kid can’t do that,” he pointed towards the massive plume of dirt and ash off in the distance.

The elderly man blinked, gathering up his tea, “fair point,” he sipped, offering no more arguments.

Amy scoffed laugh, adjusting her large red floppy sun hat.

“Hah! I did that. Alistair here punched demons really, really hard. He took out a greater demon like that!” she snapped her fingers for effect.

“Then it appears I’m in good company, eh? What’re your powers- your metiers, boy- just so I know where to stand in case of a confrontation.”

Revent turned his visored head to Sable, “based on my first impression, it would probably be far away from the fight.”

“Baha! A good guess- the best defense is to not be there, after all! But no. Metiers?”

Amy was the first to speak. She was the best, after all.

“I’m Amy, My metiers and titles are Angel of Magic, Angel of the Goetic Demon, Angel of Treasure Seeking, the Inciter, and of Astronomy!”

She left out some titles, but everyone was better for it.

“Eh, eh? That’s a long list of titles! A Mage, a summoner, and I’m unsure of the rest! I knew angels were strong, but hell’s bells that’s a bit much, eh?”

She felt the warmth of his praise lifting her wings high. She smiled back, adjusting her violet hair.

“Yeah, I'm the best, aren’t I?”

Sable grunted, turning to the boy.

“And what about you? My best guess, based on the scars- you’re the worst whittler in existence!”

“Strong,” he retorted, giving him that intense stare. To an old crotchety man, though, he might as well have been smiling. He rasped another wheezy laugh.

“Eh? Just that? Muscle? A bit scrawny for a strongman, kid!”

“Looks don’t say much.”

“Eh? Well- yeah you’re right, kid! Me? I’m Sable, the Botany Mage!”

She knew that specialization. Capable of affecting the growth of plants, and creating plant based magical properties. He was a support mage and based on his current constitution, he would need to be miles away from a fight if he were to survive. It was going to be tough keeping him alive, but that was the price of minions!

Amy looked at the old man, inspecting him intently. His wrinkled wizened face was crooked, his eyes were sunken, scaled over with a milky white shell. His white, thin, and frayed hair tangled past his neck. His ragged robes had seen better days; or perhaps not at all based on the garb being closer to rags than robe. His thin and boney frame would give way to a light breeze. Something wasn’t right about him. It clicked.

“Sable, why are you old?”

Faithful Ones didn’t age! The decrepit man belt out another laugh, which became a wheeze, then a hacking cough. She was worried he’d be her first minion to fall.

“Hah! Oh- forgive me- I can tell you’re new...” he stated as he waved them away, recovering from his coughing fit, “Faithful Ones age once their calling- their metier becomes stale!”

So they aren’t so busted after all!

“My other metier- which helps little in a fight, let me tell you- is ‘Governor’. I can rule over a small portion of land, increasing productivity, resources, and my strongest ability- it’s a major niche ability, let me tell you- is that the consumption of fuel is annulled.”

“Sounds weak,” Alistair grunted as he eyed his tea with mild disgust.

“What does that have to do with growing old?” Amy replied.

“I’ve been a governor for close to... one millennia now, only losing it after being deposed by my rivals- and I had plenty, let me tell you!”

A swishing lizard tail peeked up next to Sable before quickly scurrying away to the other side of the table.

“Skreee!” Henry chastised.

Amy looked to Gup, seeing he had stolen the man’s walking stick, waving it around in his chair.

“Gup! You big idiot- give that back right now or so help me!”

The older man waved away her shouting, “let him be. He is a curious demon. What type is he?”

“Gup? He’s a little thief, that’s what!”

“Eh- it really is fine, your worship. As I was saying, I only grew old because my metier had gone stale. So now, I can either find a new calling- A Prophet of Doom sounds about right, let me tell you- Or become a Governor in a way that stretches me. That, however, is a difficult prospect! I know too much, learned too much- put down enough riots and enjoyed enough women, let me tell you!”

Gup held tightly to his new walking stick, content to nibble on the cheese tray. Amy gave him a good bonk, reminding him the cheese was the edible part and not the tray itself.

“So now that you have a new metier, you’ll begin to grow young again?”

“Most assuredly! Or- well, if the calling fits. Who is Sable? It’s a mystery I tell you- even for me!”

It was almost afternoon and she wanted to gather her Thrones quickly. Everyone appeared sated on her tea and cheese.

“Alright, I think we’re good here!”

The demons hopped out of their seats, all to aware what that meant. She snapped her fingers, vanishing away the impromptu feast into her theo ambry- her personal inventory. Sable fell to the ground with a wail, backside crashing into the soft grass. Alistair was still sitting in the air, his legs trembling slightly. He stood, cracking his neck as he glanced around the empty grove.

The old man flailed on the ground, grumping for his walking stick. Gup quickly stored it inside his sack, eyeing the man with a vacant smile.

Amy frowned at his mischief.

"Come on Sable! You can use my stave."

Amy handed the older man her glinting weapon. He finally got to his feet, inspecting it.

"Silver outer casing… Steel core, eh? Why not a reverse that? It would be a far more superior catalyst!"

Amy smiled, knowing right away.

"Because that's too powerful for Amy-Lyn, the moderately trained, strong, independent wizard with a dark past!"

Sable eyed her with a knowing look.

“Ah, so this isn’t your actual physical form?”

Amy scrunched her face back at him, “No? Why would it be?”

“Well it’s a little- I mean your worship is gorgeous and all, but as a disguise…”

“What? Is my hair not violet enough? Should my heterochromia eyes be brighter? Is my strong and independent past not dark enough?”

Sable’s face showed both a mixture of pity and cringe.

“It’s well- too obvious- sorry to be blunt, your worship!”

The words kicked her in the stomach.

“What!? How? It’s perfect! I’m the best, after all!”

She looked to Alistair who matched her gaze with blank look.

“Village burned really well-”

“Oh, come on!” Amy barked. The boy shrugged. Sable appeared to be distracted by his new stave.

Revent spoke up, his calm voice smoothing over the edges, “Master, as an assassin, a subtle disguise is critical.”

“But you disguise yourself as shadow, and I’m not going to run around like that! I’m Amy! I’m important and powerful and the best- I won’t skulk, no sir!”

“Then how about a new disguise?” Sable interjected.

“Like what?”

He continued on despite her withering gaze.

“Become plain. I could tell easily! You’re an Angel trying to pretend to be human.”

She glanced away to the swaying conifers.

“Mimicking a human…”

The words cut into her. Was it so obvious? She was the best, after all! Was she? She clasped her hands, trying to nurse the battered ego. She felt tears starting to form. Her Liberal Arts was supposed to help with acting. Why was it so bad? Gup put a hand on her robe, looking up at her with his bulging, scaly eyes.

“Uh, master. Amy. Gup impressed no matter what!”

She let out a huff, smiling down at her big idiot.

“Thanks, Gup. You’re right, though. I need to change!”

She had a sudden inspiration.

Go, Liberal Arts! Don’t fail me like you always do!

She channeled deep. It needed to be subtle, forgettable, and be a passing shadow to any witnesses.

“Sable, are there any spirits here on Thal?”

He blustered at her sudden question, “Uh- yeah there are! One time, a water nymph visited me- let me tell you!”

“OK! I’ve got it!”

Her form changed, wrapping into shadow. Inspired by old world mythology and taking a bit of Sable’s identity. He was real so it wasn’t plagorizing.

Her physical form was about the same style as her actual physique. She was bent over, garbed in a bague raggy dress with ragged coverings. Her flesh changed and withered, covered in sores and wrinkles. Bones wrapped in dry leather. Her face was contorted into a permanent sneer, one eye larger than the other. Her long ratty hair hung loose and unkempt. She channeled her character, becoming her. Amy’s disguise was complete.

“Ta-da!” she croaked, her voice coming out as raspy and hoarse. Sable blanched back at her, understanding flooding him.

“A- you’re a- uh!” he stammered over himself.

Alistair showed a hint of worry, betraying that he had already dealt with one before. She felt her character act. She mockingly crowed back at them, pausing to wag a finger between each stutter.

“Yes, I am a- a- a- Baba Yaga!”

Sable looked askance, “but those hags are terrible! They can’t come to town either- I made sure of it, let me tell you!”

“You’re not governor, are you now, my luv?” she replied, taking on her character.

No small parts, only small actors.

“But I… Well yeah, that’s true, yeah- but no demon in their right mind would-”

“-Stop me from entering? Could they? Who would know my nature?”

In her hands materialized a carved wooden mask from her acting days and a walking stick closely akin to a cudgel. She donned her mask, appearing as nothing more than an old frail woman. Sable did a double take.

“But, eh?-” he stopped, tapping his nose, “enchanted!”

“My dear Sable, you are correct. My pet, what makes a good disguise?”

She turned to Revent. The demon nodded solemnly.

“Misdirection. Master is an Angel disguised as a Baba Yaga, a powerful spiritual entity, disguised as an old woman.”

“Clever as always, my pet,” she rasped back.

“Don’t like those hags,” Alistair shook his head as he crossed his arms.

She channeled her inner witch, letting out a cackling laugh, spooking Henry. Everyone looked at Amy with a mixture of concern and admiration.

Oh, I’m good! No- I’m the best!

"Marvelous… As expected of your worship!”

“Thank you, luv. Now, this mask is enchanted with shrouding. I’ll appear as just a plain nobody. Built in peripheral blindness as well, luv!”

She tapped her walking cudgel on the grassy ground. She pointed to Alistair, “You are my adopted child,” the boy responded with a scoff, but nodded in the end.

“And you,” she gestured to Sable, “You’re my greedy guide looking for an easy payout. I didn’t know you were a governor.”

The older man nodded with a thoughtful look.

“How many demons do people usually have?”

Sable furrowed his brow, biting down his lips as he thought.

“Most have only one. Some will have two or even three, but those are special cases.”

Amy in the form of the Baba Yaga lifted her mask and smile a crooked grin, “Well, luv, it appears that I am the special case. Come along!”

She trudged the road with her demons and minions in tow. She made sure to keep her pace above crawling. She could appear as a wizened old lady, but that didn’t mean she needed the achy joint pains to match.

Hours passed as they trudged the road. She spent most of that time thinking through her backstory.

Yam-yam, the Baba Yaga. She came to be when the village she lived in was destroyed. She was a house spirit when it happened and broke, becoming a twisted parody of the woman she served. She now takes vengeance upon whomever she pleases through evil eye and withering grasp.

Gup followed just behind, sack shouldered, Sable’s old walking stick in hand, and Alistair’s blue hat with the white fuzz-ball adorning his head as he waddled on two legs.

Yam-yam lauded her precious poopsi. He was always stealing stuff, the little devil. A creature after her own twisted heart.

Oh wow, I’m really getting into this! Maybe… Maybe being the Angel of Liberal Arts isn’t so bad...

She saw the buildings peeking over the horizon. Herdetor, the largest city on Thal. Demons and humans were the largest groups, followed by wild creatures and some surviving spirits. Spirits were usually benevolent, however the outward environment could affect them for good or for worse. Demons corrupting environments was the leading causes of spiritual entities falling to darkness. They could heal over time, returning to normal, but not until the cancer was cut.

And Amy was the knife. The harbinger of the great end. For Lucifer’s glory.

Keheheh! I’m the best!

Herdetor’s gates came into view. The walls of the city were forged from iron, standing over twenty feet in height and flowing like raised ribs. She spotted the dark shadows of patrols, shaded by the large towers and spires. The city was shrouded in dense fog, obscuring view of the internal bowels. The city itself was surprisingly tiny and well defended.

This was by no means Belphas Village.

A brute force approach could work if she had other angels to support. But she was alone and thus her tactics would evolve. Two statues adorned either side of the gates, the winding road led them directly to the city’s maw. As they advanced closer, Yam-yam’s eyes saw the truth. They weren’t statues. Amy’s spirit whirred at the demons. Their large triangular shaped bodies jutted out, revealing large shark-like maws with tiny eyes. The fifteen-foot bodies were rife with coiling threaded muscle underneath black rubbery flesh. Adorned in ceremonial armor, none could mistake them for anything but gate-keepers.

Amy reached out with her angelic sight, seeing that they were only at an imp classification. Destroyer imps. They were all brawn, lacking even basic brain functions. Their purpose was to be an empty pile of meat under a user’s control. She spotted two guards, standing just beneath the demon’s calves.

Oh my Lucy this is so cool! Demons! And humans with technology!

Sable was the first to speak hurriedly as they neared, “My liege, these guys are tough- true Faithful Ones- let me tell you! I was outwitted, outmaneuvered, and out-brutalized. My own demon… Ah. I won't bother you with stories. Be alert and be ready to bribe anyone and anything!"

Yam-yam nodded, letting out a raspy chuckle.

"You worry about the guards, I've got the wealth, luv," she squirmed a hand into her robes, revealing a coin pouch.

Sable nodded, a look of relief on his face, "eh? No, it's not just gold. Many of these garbage heaps want payment in your spirit."

Amy understood. Demons could extract a person's power, energy, and memory. The Belphas villagers were an extreme case of over consumption, reducing them to borderline empty husks. She halted, gesturing to her demons. Revent hid beneath her shadow. Henry crawled up inside her robes, giving her a hunchback appearance. Gup was Gup and followed along.

Alistair let our a grunt, the worry evident in his voice.

"Slaver demon from before… Said children are rare…"

Yam-yam turned, addressing her follower.

"Don't you worry, luv, Gran-gran Yam-yam will keep you safe!"

He blanched at her response, shaking his head.

"Creepy."

They continued on, spotting the guards behind barricades. They were completely out of place, wearing advanced military equipment. Black, armored, and intimidating. She spotted the slung pulse gun and couched anti-material rifle. Weave body armor with berylite plating adorned their body and enough equipment to pacify a mob. Their eyes glowed back from their armored encased helms, weighing the potential intruders.

These guys aren't joking. It's not even the same league as Belphas! I suspect my imp hordes would be cut down easily by just these two big idiots...

She sensed great power amongst the two guards. They were a match for her. Aged and experienced. Warriors of might and renown. Her spirit cried out in fear at what she determined.

Ridiculous! I-It-it's not fair! This idiot is six millennia?? I'm only three plus however long I was held in Gehenna! This is dumb! This is bad!

larger imps mimicked the soldiers, gazing at them with hungry interest. Yam-yam heard their comms click and rasp as they spoke. City-wide communication would be painful to deal with. Modern technology in an ancient setting.

“...Suspects approaching,” the guard paused as he listened, “roger. Preparing for check in.”

The guard armed with the pulse gun marched to them, holding a hand for them to stop. The bassy digital voice grit with an electronic edge, all of it were ambient threats that set the others on edge. Not Yam-yam- she was old and tough enough that it took a whole lot more than tots with tin-tinker-toys to rile her.

“Halt and prepare for processing.”

Sable was the first to approach them, empty hand raised.

“A good afternoon to my fine upstanding officers of demonic enforcement!”

“Contracts,” the guard replied, unphased by the greeting.

“Well- that’s new,” Sable nodded with a shrug, couching his stave as he clasped his hands together, unraveling a ghostly scroll. The guard inspected the contract before pointing firmly at the ground.

“Next.”

Yam-yam was next. She oh so painfully hobbled to the guard, thinking up her excuse. Sable gave her a dire look, as if he didn’t expect this.

Think, think, think! You’re not under a demon’s contract! No sir! But you have demons that are under contract... Let’s see! Think, think! Grab Belph’s contract. Copy it. Replace all mention of his name with Yam-yam, the Baba Yaga. replace all verbiage of Belph’s demonhood to Yam-yam’s spirithood. Add a clause about the spirit being a guest and my demons as well and… Done!

Yam-yam trudged to the soldier, making a grand show of how old and wretched she was. The guard was unphase, staring at her intently. She breathed heavily, speaking with her froggy voice.

“Ugh, with every season this journey gets longer! These old bones! Ugh, I say!”

“Contract.”

The soldier’s tone was calm, unamused, and apathetic to her elderly stature.

“I’ve got it here, luv,” she followed Sable’s gesture, focusing on revealing her counterfeit proxy contract. The soldier closely inspected the phantom paper, glancing to her briefly. He pulled a small scanner from his vest, sweeping her form.

“Mask off.”

She felt a chill in her spirit. They weren’t kidding. She obliged, revealing Yam-yam’s face, her enchanted wooden obfuscation lowered. The guard paused, looking from the contract to her twisted face.

“Uh, reporting elder class spiritual being at north gate, please advise,” his comms buzzed as he gripped his weapon cautiously. The soldier nearest to the gates hefted his anti-material rifle with both hands. The destroyer imps shifted, turning to the group.

“Roger. It’s a Baba Yaga spirit. The contract matches. Roger.”

He lowered the grip on his weapon, pointing to her, “you are ordered to pay a fine for entry.”

“Ah, of course, of course, luv,” Yam-yam replied with a wheeze as she reached into her robe, handing a sack of gold and gems. The soldier swept the bag with his scanner, pocketing the money.

“Go.”

She trudged to Sable, glancing back to the guard as it eyed her demon thief, “The demons are with me, luv,” Yam-yam announced as Gup scurried to her side. Henry peeked out from her robes as Revent revealed itself from her shadows. The guard paused, nodding back at them.

Alistair was next.

“Contract.”

The boy looked to Amy disguised as Yam-yam. She donned her mask, smiling underneath it. She began working her magic, grabbing another copy of Belph’s contract and rewriting it to accommodate the human Alistair Vaughn.

“My child, do you remember what Gran-gran showed you?”

He crossed his arms, nodding at her, “Yes. Like this?”

He put his hands together, pulling them apart to reveal nothing. The guard stared down at the boy, nonplussed by his act.

“No, Vaughn! remember- feel the contract and pull it towards the surface!” she turned to the guard, addressing him, “I’m sorry, luv, he’s still but a child.”

Yam-yam grasped her walking cudgel in both hands, her work completed. She began counterfeiting the other demons as well, suspecting that they would all need to be registered.

“Try again, child.”

Alistair clasped his hands together as she flicked a finger, projecting his counterfeit contract.

The guard nodded, examining it.

“Alistair Vaughn, is Yam-yam, the Baba Yaga your guardian?”

Alistair narrowed his eyes, giving him a relaxed look.

“Gran-gran? Yeah. Found me. Raised me. Said I’d come here when I was older.”

The guard glanced back to the gater, his comms buzzing again.

“Suspects have been cleared. Reporting no other activity. Roger- opening gates.”

The soldier waved to his comrade as he turned, marching back to the barricade. The destroyer imps turned and moved as one, gripping the handles of the gate as they pushed. Herdetor was open to them.

Sable whispered in her ear as he bent down, “my worship, it’s now time for the hard part.”

She knew what that meant. The city was violent. A good adventure always had its twists and dangers.

“Stick close to Gran-gran Yam-yam- you don’t want to get lost, luv!”

Alistair walked close to her, as if helping her along. The guards eyed them as the demons pulled back, the gate cranking and clicking back into place. What lay in front of them was a shanty town surrounding a larger structure buzzing with flowing vessels.

It was an active hangar bay. The soldier’s high technology presence made sense now. It was all centralized and controlled. They passed through, seeing the instant squalor of drained and wretched Faithful Ones lining the dirt streets, all begging, all staring at them. It all flowed towards the hangar. The shanty town was packed. Soulless boxes to house living meat named ‘humanity’.

“Keep away from the beggars, they’ll rip you apart- let me tell you.”

She sensed their malevolent intent, felt their hidden demons. They were predators eyeing new prey. Exploiting humanity's natural empathy, they awaited with blade and bludgeon. Some moved, beginning to crowd around them, all eyeing the boy. More vagrants followed behind, desperation on their faces. As they advanced closer, more began following in their wake. Some began to cry out.

“It’s a child…”

“You! Give us the boy!”

“Children don’t exist anymore- give him to me!”

The crowd had quickly become a mob.

“Keep moving, hurry!” Sable shouted over the sudden bedlam.

Yam-yam wasn’t going to take this garbage. She was like a briar patch, so idiots beware!

Here we go!

Yam-yam turned to the mob, standing firm as Alistair stood by her side, hands full of pebbles.

“Is that how you treat new guests, eh?”

Her raspy voice halted the vagrants. Their rage built like a storm, only held back by the fake Baba Yaga’s presence. She forced out a wave of heavy malevolent intent, causing the mob to take a step back

“This boy is my son. None will lay a hand on him and live!”

“She’s just a crusty hag!” a twisted woman cried out.

As if to test her point, a shanty door burst open as a beggar tried to grab Alistair by his free hand. The boy was unmoved by the larger man’s bulk. He snapped a glance, flicking a pebble into the vagrant’s face. The bullet crack rang out, blood splattered the dilapidated structure, and the transient stumbled back, limp-wristedly inspecting the new holes in his head.

“My face,” he slurred, turning and slumping face first against the shanty wall, going still. The mob muttered and conversed in fear of the boy’s strength. Yam-yam decided to finish them off. She raised her mask, revealing her true nature. The crowd backed up, wailing in dismay at what they witnessed.

Baba Yaga.

Cruel, powerful, angry.

I’ve never really used this one before… It’s pretty worthless against most enemies!

Evil Eye: Agony.

Her large eye flashed violet, and the first line of beggars dropped with a wave of screams, thrashing on the ground. The second line began to scatter, stumbling at being seen by that tortuous eye. Bedlam reigned as the mob began fleeing, screaming, and wailing as they scattered. Those that couldn’t seizing and convulsing under the Baba Yaga’s gaze. She had enough, lowering her mask atop her face and ceasing her magic.

She let out a hideous cackle, her horrifying voice echoing out along the shanty town. She left the mob to their own devices, the suffering no doubt burned this moment in their mind. Except for the one who lost his. She glanced to the unmoving body leaning face first with a bent back against the crimson painted house. Blood flowed from the wounds, mixing with the dust.

“Good reaction time, my child!” she exhorted.

“Yeah. He shouldn't have done that.”

Sable had frozen, witnessing the ridiculous act. Gup was Gup and was striking some of the vagrants with his stick, trying to steal from them.

“Gup, my pet, over here.”

The thief sprang to, scurrying behind his master.

“Now Sable, luv, where to?”

The man sported a crooked smile, “What a horrific display- fantastic work! Now, we go to that hangar to Herdetor-”

“That’s not Herdetor?” Alistair chimed in.

“No, boy, it's not! That’s just the transportation to Herdetor. For the marvelously wicked place is up above us!”

They all looked up, seeing the foggy overcast and the dark silhouette of a massive floating object.

“Behold, for Herdetor's a cruiser!”

Oh, my Lucy! So cool! OK! I can admire this at least!

The journey was uneventful as the curious bystanders kept their distance to the dark alleys. A vessel shot out, flying high and vanishing quickly into the fog.

"We'll barter passage and depending on which vessel we get depends on which safe docking hanger we'll arrive to inside Herdetor. Don't want to be on the wrong ship, let me tell you!"

"Why not?"

"Well, boy, think of those guards, except thirty more in number and waiting to confiscate everything of value, including yourself!"

Yam-yam nodded. They had to be careful. Sable was their guide in and out.

“Luv, if all goes well, you’ll be richly rewarded. Wealth. Youth. Power. All yours.”

Sable halted, turning to look back. He trembled slightly as he dipped a slight bow.

“Eh? Really? Then let me be of service until the day I can’t!”

Oh! Because death is no more, meaning he’ll serve me for eternity. Kehehehe! I’m the best! Unless he bites it, which is totally possible given his poor excuse for ‘vitality’.

She spotted the ramp to the top hangar, sparsely filled with people. If up above was any better than ‘squalor square’ here, then who would want to return to the surface?

"This will be bad," Alistair announced.

Yam-yam glanced back to the boy, "Why is that, my son?"

"Ability won't work up there."

Strength of the Golem… Herdetor is airbound. This will be tricky.

"It will all work out, luv. Gran-gran is here!"

He crossed his arms, going silent.

They began their ascent on the large forty foot ramp meant for heavy cargo. They passed the occasional denizen who eyed them with suspicion and worry. They kept close together, keeping most everyone at bay. Yam-yam poured out an aura of malevolence, further discouraging inspection. The steel floor was well designed with two large grooves cut down the middle with metal teeth like tracks. Sable broke the mundane clacking of wooden sticks against metal.

"This hangar used to be prolific. Resources made their way in and out of Herdetor and thus Thal."

"And what, may I ask, resource was good enough for a hangar?" Yam-yam asked.

Sable turned back, a sad look on his face.

"Slaves," Alistair replied, filling in the blanks.

"Yeah… Thal was best known for its slaves. More specifically child slaves. Sacrifices. And now in these final moments, the hangar's gone cold. The harbinger has arrived. The planet's done for."

Yam-yam had a tinge of suspicion.

“You were governor for a millenia. Why allow it?”

He shook his head, lowering his shoulders, “because there was no political power behind it. Why do you think I was deposed?”

“When the kids vanished,” Alistair grunted.

“Of course. Once the main resource as gone, No one cared anymore. Write a bill into law to ban slave trade. Burned every bridge to do it mind you! Get replaced by another who just doubles down on child slaves- taxes those without! My personal sacrifice ended up doing nothing- let me tell you!”

He sighed as their ascent was nearly complete. They looked to the docked shuttles in the open air hangar.

“Maybe redeem the whole damn thing by burning it down.”

Yam-yam touched his shoulder and he turned, his face going through an array of emotions.

Steady now. Can’t be too attached to these guys… Nyeh! I just wanted Thrones- what do I do? What would Yam-yam do?

She spoke, her croaky voice quiet and determined. She waited for an onlooker to pass.

“Yam-yam will come through for you, luv. If need be, the whole planet will burn.”

He nodded with a pained smile.

“You’re the best cult leader a man could ever ask for.”

The comment was mixed with both humor and earnest intent.

Awww. Sable’s the best. I only hope I can cause enough mayhem to be worthy of those words!

“Which ship?” Alistair asked.

“This way! Only one shuttle will do!”

They marched to a brick red blocky shaped vessel, the wings jutting from the sides like blades.

The boy paused, holding back. Yam-yam turned and Amy noticed his hesitation.

“My child, are you well?”

He shook his head, his knuckles cracked as he flexed his hands. Like a predator about to walk into a trap.

“Doesn’t feel right. Bad feeling.”

Her wrinkled hand gently gripped his.

"Do not fear, little one, Gran-gran Yam-yam will protect you. After this, I'll take you far away from here. There are so many worlds out there, so many places to explore! We'll find more about your Seal and brand- you'll see."

“Mean it? Leave Thal for good?”

“As I live.”

He hugged her, which felt stiff and passive, but based on his massive strength it was with good reason; didn’t want to pop Gran-gran’s head off.

“Thanks, Amy.”

Ugh! He’s so cute! I’ll make sure we get out of here. Lucifer will know what to do with him!

She looked down to Gup who gave her a dumb smile. She pet at him, making sure to rub his scaly eyes. She felt at Henry, who was fast asleep on her back inside her robe. Revent made a gesture from the shadows, getting her attention. She was happy with her demons and couldn’t wait to get more of them. She was ready, whatever fate and fortune took her. All for Lucifer’s glory.

“Sable, luv. Let’s depart!”

And they traveled up and on to Herdetor.