King Harold Saft sat in his meeting room, his hands shaking as he brought the cup of tea to his mouth, attempting to dismiss the pearl of cold sweat pearling down his forehead. Keela, on the other hand, was perfectly calm, sipping her tea calmly, sat in between Velka and Saphielle who were staring down the king with ferocious glares. The three of them still wore their warring outfits, Velka and Keela’s stained with blood while Saphielle was clean, pushing up her glasses on her nose. Putting down her cup, Keela offered the warmest smile she could muster as the sun set under the mountains in the horizon, pouring warm orange light into the tea room. A space meant for relaxation likely made King Harold feel as if he was visiting the abyss, a proper demon having tea with him after coming back from the dead.

“Now then, I trust you know why we’re here”, said Keela, throwing a leg over the other gracefully, resting her hands on her knee.

“T-this is all a misunderstanding, I’m sure…” stuttered the king, his cup clinking against the saucer he held up.

“Right, right, I’m sure it is”, replied Keela, adjusting her crown slightly.

“It was Raymond’s idea! I tried to stop him and he simply would not listen”, attempted the king, absconding from his previous statements in the least graceful way possible.

Laughing heartily, Keela raised a hand, acting as if the behavior was uncouth.

“Was it? Because as I remember, Raymond was to be executed. I suppose my hearing is getting a little rusty, maybe a side effect from spending six years in limbo”, said Keela, cocking her head to the side, planting a stake in the excuse the king had put up.

The blood drained from Harold’s face, as he realized his mistake. Quickly steeling himself, he shook his head and straightened his back, putting down his cup.

“Did you kill Raymond?” he asked, gripping the fabric of his pants.

“No. I gave him a treatment he deserved. As far as I’m aware, he can’t die where he is”, said Keela, pensively tapping at her stomach scar.

“I haven’t heard news of our soldiers, how many remain?” asked the king again, swallowing his stress heavily.

“None. That would be why you haven’t heard.”

“None?”

“I think? Velka, was that the instructions we gave?”

Velka looked around for a second, not expecting to be called upon.

“Oh, yes. We did say none should leave alive except the commander. Then again, I’m not quite sure how thorough they were, I did make it a point to avoid looking at the battlefield at the end”, she said, getting her bearings and clearing her throat.

“If some survived, the desert should get them if they don’t have any navigation”, said Saphielle, her cup of tea untouched.

“We did have all the weapons picked up. We could sell you the metal later when we melt them down”, said Keela, trying not to smile in a mocking manner.

“You’re bluffing”, cut the king, not buying their statements.

“Would you like to go see for yourself then?” asked Keela, standing up.

“That journey would take days, I don’t have that kind of--”

“Cut the crap Harold, answer the question.”

“Out of patience for the marks of respect?”

“You lost the privilege of being respected when you had the audacity to put three hundred thousand soldiers at my doorstep. Now answer the question before I lose the last smidge of patience I have left.”

“I’ll humor you. I’d like to see for myself then.”

Walking to the wall, Keela drew a line in the air, opening a portal to the top of a dune near the battlefield. A breeze of warm air wafted in the room, carrying the scent of corpses baking in the sun. Saphielle put a fist in front of her mouth and Velka raised her collar above her nose, the king gagging at the smell while Keela stood straight, unfazed. To her, it only smelled sour, like a fruit that spent too long in the sun, the corpses lost any flavor they could’ve had. Stepping through the portal, Velka and Saphielle first, then the king and Keela at the end, closing it behind her, the sunlight grew harsher but still stood on its last legs, washing the sand in its orange glow. Down the dune, the field of corpses littered the sand, marring the purity of the landscape with stains of blood the sand drank as the soldiers spent their last moments looking at the sky. Some demon corpses were strewn about as well, but had decomposed faster, likely due to the exposure to sunlight and the foreign nature of their flesh.

“We didn’t have to do this Harold. You should know the lengths I’ll go for my people by now”, said Keela, looking over the landscape, a colder breeze setting in, battering her hair.

“You are, by far, the most absurdly loyal person I’ve ever met”, replied Harold, trying to cover his mouth to avoid tasting the wind.

“I’m not as loyal as you think. I just don’t see why you people seem to love betraying each other.”

“Power is a strong ally.”

“And only a fool would sacrifice all they have for an ally.”

“Power lets you build stronger relations.”

“Why would you strive for it when you could’ve built those relationships in the first place. Stop running away from your problems old man. The Ivory Razor is not a powerful ally, it’s a bunch of fools worshipping a skewed idea of a sinless life by playing puppets with the government.”

“Well, it’s too late anyways, they’ll have my head over this either way.”

Keela turned around and stared at the king, his shoulders having slumped as he had realized his fate.

“You are a poor excuse for a king. The razor has their hand so far up your government’s end that they’re making you act like a fool. I hope you have a chance to redeem yourself because it’s not looking up”, she said, turning back to the horizon, opening up a portal to the tea room behind him.

“Any advice for an old fool playing king?” asked Harold, putting one foot through into his castle.

“Trust is earned. Start from zero. That’s your only chance to live. Sleep with one eye open, King Harold. I hear it’s a good skill to have.”

The king smirked at her remark and stepped through, eyeing her harshly as the opening closed. Looking at the field of corpses for another minute, Keela headed back to her own home, bringing along the only people she would ever trust.