“A promise for me?” It was surreal. Bloumen found her gaze transfixed on the black coals the demon had for eyes. It stared back with a gaze that made her want to cry out from fright. Bloumen swallowed and stepped forward upon her wobbly legs. “What… Do you mean?”

“Bloumen! Get behind me now child!” Kirtridge shouted. He moved to pull her back, rough hand grabbing onto her shoulder. There was a blur of motion in the corner of her eye, and the long, oily arm of the demon was about Kirtridge’s head. She let out a cry of fright. Kirtridge’s grip tightened on her shoulder.

Bloumen whimpered, as the beast leaned in close to her. It spoke in a cold, gravelly tone, breath smelling of corpses. “Let’s avoid distractions. My lady, I have awaited thy incarnation for a thousand years. As they patient servant, I shall have my due reward when thou incarnate. For the moment, I have but one request.”

Shivers went down her spine, she tasted vomit in the back of her mouth. Her tongue felt heavy, and no words came to mind. She found herself nodding along to its words.

Unkhis reached into its sack, and withdrew from it a long spindle, engraved with gold, and with an iron core. It felt cold, as he held it up before her. “Make a pact with me, and I shall feed on thy spirit as a familiar. You are weak now, and I shall get no reward if you fail to incarnate twixt the flowers of the fae’s forest.”

“A familiar?” Bloumen looked up at Kirtridge. He shook his head, glancing down at her with wide eyes between the fingers of the demon.

“A servant to channel magic, bonded to your will.” Kaede said. He was watching from a distance, arrow resting in his bow. “If the demon is truthful.”

Bloumen glanced at the spindle before her suspiciously. She could hardly think with the coal black eyes of the demon boring into her skull. Suspicion and doubt swirled with fear and terror in her mind, forming a thought killing blend. She took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and counted to three. She choked out the first coherent words that came to mind; “C-can I say no?”

The demon froze, as if it had never thought of such a thing. It looked like the eager merchants that dealt with her father from time to time when they were denied a bargain. “Why… Would thou refuse?”

Bloumen’s head spun at the surreal idea of trying to bargain with a demon. “I don’t know…” She gestured wordlessly, trying to put the obvious problem in a subtle light. In her dreamlike haze of fear and confusion, she found the words. “You’re a big oily monster offering me a mysterious magical item. That’s as suspicious as it gets!”

Her subtlety was reduced to ashes.

Kirtridge groaned audibly, before a hiss from the demon quieted him.

“If I meant to harm thee, I would have devoured thee.” The demon was trying for a reassuring tone. “This is for thy safety.”

Bloumen had the gut feeling that what wasn’t how it worked. Her mind had circled all the way around to a dreamy calm. It had now settled on determining what the demon was offering. Her mind went to her own family’s servants, following her parent’s like quiet shadows. She grasped onto the thought, finding a chance to reject the beast outright. “But I can’t accept, I would be even more suspicious with a demon following me then I already am with my crown.”

With that she passed a finger through the little sigils by her own ears.

“There are ways around that.”

For the first time, Bloumen felt herself longing for that dreaded voice in her head. Some guidance at all would be useful now. “What if I say no?”

“I’ll find another way to ensure thou are safe. Perhaps take thee to my lair, where I can teach thee your old magic without distraction and danger.”

Bloumen mulled over this. It didn’t really feel like a choice at all. She reckoned if it bothered asking, it was something the demon wanted badly. She could feel Kirtridge’s gaze bearing down on her, and the demon’s hungry eyes. She closed her eyes, and wished she was back in her home, basking by a window. She didn’t want this demon to keep her safe. She didn’t want Kirtridge, she just wanted to be home, well fed, and with her parents.

“What can you do if I accept this deal. You want to be a servant right?”

“I can help thee reach thy potential, then ye can do anything.”

“Can I bring my home back?”

The demon gave her a blank look.

“Don’t look at me like that! If I make this deal can I go home?”

“Once ye ascend as my ruler, ye shall be able to do whatever thou could ever desire.”

Kirtridge shook his head again. He was always annoyed at her, and now the promise of her home hung before her like a dream. The smell of her parents stew, their smiling faces, and her timid maid was a charming spell in her mind. She reached a tentative hand towards the spindle. “I accept”

The demon’s mouth curved upwards into a smile. The demon released Kirtridge, and he staggered back, gasping for breath. It reached for her hand and grasped her wrist. She recoiled, but its slimy, cold skin held firm. It poised the spindle above her palm, pointed straight down like a dagger.

Kirtridge started, pulling his sword back for a strike. His blade came down on the demon with air whistling like a bird.

Her eyes widened as Unkhis plunged the spindle between its hand and her own. Pain coursed up her own arm, muscles spasming, and a scream escaped her lips. Red blood dripped onto the ground, mixed with the black oil of the demon.

Kirtridge tore her hand away. She felt her legs give out under her and sank to the ground. A familiar pressuring built in the back of her skull. It seethed and twisted, like a living thing trapped in a net. She raised her hands to her face, as the light suddenly burned her eyes. With a sensation like plunging her head under ocean waves, the pressure gave out to a cool calm.

For a brief moment, she had the bizarre sensation of her own body expanding. Like she had inhabited the grotesque form of the creature before her.

There was a loud thump, and the feeling stopped.

“Bloumen! Damnit child, look at me!” Vaguely, she realized she was being violently shaken, and her eyes refocused on the worry lined face of Kirtridge.

“Bless the deep. Are you still with us?” Kaede asked.

“I’m still with you.” She managed, her own voice felt shaky and weak. “Kirtidge… What did I just do?”

He swore and glanced over at the demon. It lay limply beside them, unmoving. Black blood leaked from its wounded hand, glimmering with a golden light. “Child. Why the hell would you do something so damn dangerous! You didn’t have any goddamn clue what you were getting into?”

Bloumen’s face grew hot. Words didn’t comer to her, bottling up in her own throat. She looked down at the ground to avoid the frustration in his own eyes. She hadn’t really been hurt, she hadn’t done anything wrong. A dreadful pit built in her stomach, a knot of swirling guilt and anxiety.

Kaede surveyed the demon and let out a long sigh. “She seems fine Kirtirdge. Just pray the demon was telling the truth.”

“What do you mean by that?” Kitridge asked, voice hard with frustration.

There was the loud rattle of wood upon wood. Everyone turned at once, Kirtridge’s blade swinging to bear.

Nawa stood at the edge of the campsite, a bundle of wood lying scattered about his feet. His eyes, wide with shock, lay transfixed upon the limp body of the demon.

“Stay back.” Kaede warned. Nawa didn’t need the warning, already backing away, eyes firmly upon the demon. “We should see any minute now if the beast was telling the truth.”

The demon's body twitched.

Slowly it crumbled into a fine grey dust, leaving in its remains its bulging pack of treasures, and large, bleached bones. The pungent smell of sulfur filled the air, causing Bloumen to scrunch up her nose in disgust.

Kirtridge leaned forward, raking over the fine dust with his longsword. “God, what did you do?”

“So it worked.” Bloumen winced, as the all too familiar feeling of another voice resounded in her skull. It sounded clear, like a boy’s, with a deep undertone that made it so slightly off. There was an odd sensation, as she was cut off from that strange expansiveness. There was still the remnants of that feeling, a faint haze at the edge of her mind.

Bloumen took in a deep, shaky breath, as a lump built up in her throat. Tears came to her eyes at the thought of dealing with a new voice in her head. The migraines, the exhaustion, and the anxiety it caused was too much to think about.

“It looks like her gamble paid off.” Kaede noted. “Nawa, that’s the wood for our fire right? Can you fetch some water for soup?”

Kirtridge stopped raking the ashes, his sword running into something. She felt a vague sense of discomfort, as he poked it twice. He muttered softly, and leaned forward to take a better look.

The ash shifted, and out burst a black, writhing shape. It was dusted in ash, and about the size of a small squirrel. Kirtridge jumped back, sword pointed at the creature. “Back Bloumen! Kaede, what the fuck is this?”

“Get thy knight away from me girl.” The voice echoed in her head once more. She looked at the little creature, and at the ash beside it. It looked back at her, and she felt the strange sensation of its movement, like a ghostly part of her had moved on its own. “I think… It’s the demon Kirtridge.”