“It’s going to fire another shot!” Rael called, urging the other two to run. Just as they rounded the corner, Rael turned their head to see polished black ball slam into the side of the tunnel, cracking the resin, bouncing off the wall and over their heads.

“That shite-tossing ass!” Kip spat, his Tome warrior running ahead to pick up the object as it slowly bounced back towards them. When his Tome warrior crouched slightly to catch it, the ball landed into its waiting arms…and then tore a hole through it. Kip fell to his knees for but a moment, Rael pulling him up by the armpits and pushing him to keep running.

“Th-that was m-much heavier than it looked.” Kip mumbled through an unfocused gaze.

Tiktiktiktiktiktiktitktitktitktiktitktitktitktitktitk—

The claws on resin rushed after them, scuttling towards them like an overgrown roach crossed with an enraged bull. Rael had never had their Tome broken before, but they’d heard how debilitating it could be.

“How soon until you can resummon your Tomes?” Rael asked through panicked breaths, sparing glance over their shoulders every few seconds.

“A few minutes.” Edith’s face was already regaining color.

“M-maybe an hour?” Kip coughed up some spit as he wiped away a nosebleed.

“Don’t lie.” Edith grunted. “He’s out of the fight for the rest of the day.”

Kip turned and opened his mouth to dispute, only to be met with Edith’s scalding gaze.

“Aye, Shieldmaiden.”

The three of them rushed upwards, flinching every time the demon spat out a sphere, ricocheting off the smooth walls of the tunnel and rolling back down with enough force to tear off a leg. In a way, it reminded Rael of home. They chuckled at the thought, a brief distraction from the skittering horror behind them.

“Wha-what’cha laughin’ about?” Kip’s breath was labored.

“Just a game I played back home. Reminds me of this.” Rael spared a look behind them, watching a clawed hand reach around the corner, vulture head close behind.

“You were chased by demons throwing rocks in Gulass?” Edith asked incredulously.

“Not demons.”

Kip looked away to hide an expression of pity as Edith kept a stoic face.

“Don’t.” Rael cut through the awkwardness with a tone of finality. “Until they flung spells, I would always win. Just like we’re going to win here.”

As if their words were more than just pep talk, they saw light reflecting off the sides of the tunnel. Just as their heart began to soar, they kept up the tunnel to find three Faulk warriors investigating the dugout alcove by torchlight. They swung about to the sound of Rael and company’s feet hitting the floor, weapons unsheathed. When they saw who was running, their shoulders sagged in relief.

“What took you so—”

“RUN YOU IDJITS!” Edith yelled, sprinting past them. Two were quick enough to immediately follow, whereas the last poor fool stared into the darkness they were running from.

“What are you—”

The demon did not even give the man the dignity of finishing his question. Its vulture beak tore through his throat, then tore him apart in the trampling of its claws.

SCREEEEEEEEEEE!

They heard the grumbling, the squelching of something happening.

“Incoming!” Edith called.

This time, the sphere whizzed along the side of the tunnel, the black ball zooming past them. It hit the lip of an uneven jut, bouncing back towards them. It swept by one of the other two. He grunted in pain and stumbled, something flopping at his side for a moment. Until it thudded to the ground, tumbling behind them in a splatter of liquid.

“Nirk!”

“’S fine.” The warrior grumbled as the color left his face. “Wasn’t my main arm.”

Despite saying that, he was slowing down and losing a lot of blood. His friend was pulling him along, Nirk stumbling on the uneven ground. Finally, they saw the soft light of eternally overcast day. The meager light soothed their aching muscles, gave them all enough strength for a last sprint. The demon, enraged, screeched louder, slapping tendrils and claws against the walls of the tunnel in a discordant melody of fury. The five of them ran into the open, fresh air filling their lungs.

“Ready arms!” Edith commanded, swerving around to face the cave.

Rael stood by here, watching Kip help Nirk limp off behind the lines of tense Faulk warriors. For a second, all was quiet. The cave was pitch-black. Until Rael saw a pair of gleaming eyes, darker than midnight. The abomination burst from the cave with a hellish screech, long claws digging deep into the dirt and pulling it forwards faster than a swallow. The Faulk were prepared.

The creature was peppered with arrows that dug deep into the pale flesh of its humanoid torso but glanced off of its armored abdomen. Rael noted that its abdomen had shrunk somewhat, leaving less gaps between its sharp scales. It spasmed again, Rael and Edith screaming at the same time.

“Dodge!”

Another sphere shot out, tearing through two warriors who weren’t quick enough to react. The first was unlucky, having to suffer for a few seconds with a hole in his chest. The other, thankfully, didn’t even have time to realize her head had been reduced to paste. The Faulk, realizing they had a disadvantage in a ranged battle, dropped their bows and charged.

The demon tore into the first with its arms, lacerating the old fighter’s body. Before the experienced combatant went down, he chopped off one of its arms. He bled out with a smile on his face, his short battle having bought the demon’s attention long enough for six more fighters and their tome-warriors, empowered by various spells, to chop at its other appendages. Only one more was unlucky enough to be speared by one of the longer claws, and he was quickly pulled away before the demon could deal a death blow. The warriors swarmed the demon like a nest of ants overcoming a mighty beetle. Edith slammed her axes into its side, dislodging scales and rending flesh with a scream of fury, relying only on the might of her own body.

Rael watched, enraptured, as the Faulk organized themselves by instinct. An outer circle enclosed itself around the monster, sending out people to bring in the wounded or replace them. Those behind the circle would either use magic to help the fighters or send flying arrows, axes and spells where they could without injuring their fellows. A strategy that would work against any manner of beast.

But this demon was no beast, and they had yet to fully comprehend that. Rael gathered their will and cast what was quickly becoming their go-to combat spell.

“[Hydrokinesis].” Nobody could hear their whisper over the clamor of battle, the perfect chance to disguise their spell. Rather than wasting energy creating water, Rael gathered up a pillar of water from the beach, slamming it into the torso of the beast.

Unlike when they sparred, this much water didn’t even push back the demon, only annoying it. Concentrating harder, Rael willed the water to concentrate into thin blades of water. With a movement, they sent the salvo towards the demon, crashing against the beast. This time, Rael drew blood. The deadly shower cascaded against the pale torso and through its few remaining tendrils, opening new wounds all over it, but dealing negligible damage to its scaled abdomen. However, the last of its tentacles fell to the ground, writhing wildly in the dirt.

With a roar, Edith jumped onto its back, axe aimed for its neck. The demon twisted around, blocking the deathblow with its last arm. Its sharp beak shot forwards, aiming for the Shieldmaiden’s head. Edith jumped backwards, slipping on its back slick with blood and water and falling to the ground beside it. It thrust its last claw to spear her, a claw holding onto the nub leg by scarcely more than bone and sinew. She rolled out of the way in time to avoid being nailed to the ground, the claw digging into the soft earth easily. Another warrior rushed in, dealing the final blow to the claw, cleaving it off with an overhead strike.

The demon had no time to scream; another warrior leapt onto its back, digging his axe firmly into its vulture head with a mighty swing.

“This,” cried Nirk as the bandages wrapped around his missing arm darkened red, “was for my arm!” The vulture squawked weakly through the metal biting into its skull, and again as Nirk tore out his axe. He spun around, decapitating the monster. “That…was for Molod.”

The company of warriors cheered as the humanoid torso slumped down, gushing blood. Rael was still tense.

‘That…was too easy.’

Still, the water swirled above Rael’s head like a python waiting to strike.

“Rael. The battle is over.” Kip came from outside the circle, clapping the young meta on their back. “Lay down your arms and celebrate!”

True to his word, most of the Faulk relaxed, walking to the carcass to cheer for the one-armed warrior standing on its bloated body. Save a few of the older and the more cautious, who hung back. Their eyes were set on Edith, who was still as tense as Rael.

“Tonight, we feast!” Nirk declared, waving his axe triumphantly in the air.

His fellows shouted in approval.

And the demon struck. Its body twisted like a worm, its sharp scales tearing into all those who were too close. Its tail twisted, the three beak-like protrusions snapping up to grab Nirk by the leg. To his credit, the warrior reacted quickly, emitting a sheen of light that protected his leg from being crushed. The monster wasn’t done, snapping him around as a dog would a toy. Until it let go, sending him flying towards a tree just as the aura around his body began to fade. Acting quickly, Rael send their water to catch him.

Nirk slammed into the water with a crack, exploding the construct and releasing Rael’s spell over it. He kept going, rolling head over heel into the dirt, coughing up water. Rael almost breathed a sigh of relief, ignoring Kip’s hand clenching their shoulder.

The demon had stopped rolling around, having crushed or cut over a dozen of those unfortunate enough to celebrate its death too early. All that was left was some sort cross between a blind pangolin and a snake, swelling bigger and bigger.

“Duck and cover!” Rael warned, pulling all those nearby to the ground and clenching their eyes shut.

“Fortify!” Edith called a moment later, spurring spells to be hurled all around. Palisades of wood, ice, light, and earth were erected. Some were too late. A hail of sharp scales exploded in every direction, tearing through flesh and bone of the unprepared. The plates dug into the hastily summoned walls, sometimes piercing through them completely and maiming those behind. After the storm of scales thudded into every possible surface, the sound was replaced by the cries of the injured. Real opened up an eye, heart thumping in their chest as they stared into their own reflection in the glossy scale that had embedded into the earth right by their head.

‘Too close. Need some sort of shield spell.’

Rael jumped up. ‘If this thing is smart enough to play dead, its smart enough to retreat. I’m not going through this bull again.’

Just as they suspected, the diminished demon, now looking more like a fat worm, was slithering back towards the tunnel. Adrenalin still pumping, Rael pulled out the scale besides them, running towards the demon. It seemed to slither away more desperately. It swerved around to take a bite out of them, but Rael had expected this. Edith and Derrol made more convincing feints. Rael lodged its own scale into its jaws, slipping their arms away in case it broke. The worm struggled in rage, unable to break its own scale. Rael, in a panicked daze, began casting.

“[Hydrokinesis].”

The blades of water reformed, a dull ache manifesting in Rael’s mind and body as they cast another spell at the same time, struggling to stay awake from the strain.

“[Minor Cut].”

A light gleamed on the edges of Rael’s Tome-dagger and the blades of water, Rael desperately slicing into the demon’s now unarmored body. Cut after cut, from Rael’s own hand or from the water, dug into the monster body, hot sprays of blood erupting outwards. Rael could hear people yelling, but they kept tearing into the demon.

‘It has to die. It has to stay dead. Die, die, DIE!’

Finally, someone pulled Rael back. They blinked the red liquid from their eyes, the red haze dissipating. Their limbs felt weak, their mouth dry. The muffled voices slowly cleared up until Rael could hear them again.

“It is done.” Edith put a calming hand on their head. Rael turned, and Edith nodded her head, cocking it towards the rest of the demon’s body. As Rael was digging into its head, more warriors had come, shoving spears deep into its form. Rael finally allowed themselves a moment to relax, collapsing on their butt and releasing a shuddering breath. Edith pulled three fingers from the top of their head and trailed it down to their glabella. “You’ve done well, though you have much to learn.”

Rael looked over their arms. They’d lost some muscle mass. Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable. “How could I have done better?” Rael asked themselves, their lightheadedness bringing the words forth.

“Finally.” Shieldmaiden Edith smirked and sat down besides Rael. They looked at her quizzically. “All the times we fought, and you never asked.”

“Ugh.” Rael hung their head between their knees. “Is this another lesson? ‘Don’t be afraid to ask for help?’”

“Yes.” Edith guffawed, motioning for the watching Faulk to give them space. For once, though, the Faulk did not leave. Rael looked to the expectant gazes. “It was a good kill.” Edith cleared her throat. “There are typically words to go with such a victory.”

Rael cast an eye about the injured, the weary, and the bloody.

“I’m glad the fucker’s dead.”

That was it. The warriors looked to one another, whispers of disappointment trickling through the crowd. Kip nudged Rael and cocked his head in their direction. He mouthed three words: ‘boasting, honor, mead.’ Rael suppressed a sigh and felt that even rolling their eyes would strain their sore…everything.

“When we get to the Stone Circle, we can hold our heads high. We are demon slayers!” Rael even felt winded raising their voice. There were a few small cheers from that last statement. “And…uh…drinks are on me when we get there!”

This time, the cheer was deafening.

The work began immediately. The injured had already gone through triage, and all those who could heal were helping them. A few had over-extended themselves like Rael had, laying on the blood-soaked ground to recuperate. The most able bodied tended to the dead; going to their bodies and clipping off bits of their hair while ensuring their hands still held their weapons. Others began dismantling the demon’s body and collecting its scattered pieces. Rael, Kip, and Edith sat by the corpse.

“How did I mess up?” Rael asked, basking in the little light that breached the fog above.

“Three ways:” Edith held up a finger. “You have Ruen and Bjorn’s memories, their mastery of weapons included. Yet you ran in with nothing more than a knife. Worse yet, a knife that, if broken, would render you incapable of casting spells. You saw what happened to Kip and I when our Tomes were destroyed.”

“I don’t like swords, spears, or axes.” Rael grumbled, leaning into their knees. “I fight with my fists.”

“Each tool fits for each job. Though I admit, it would have been risky for you to rely on unfamiliar instincts.” Edith lifted a second finger. “Your spells, while impressive, were wasteful. I understand you have some sort of foundation water spell, but you have to learn to use spells more efficiently. You’ve lost muscle, you’re weak, and you’re exhausted. If we had a battle after this one, you’d be dead. Or worse, holding back the others.”

Rael huffed and nodded.

“The most fatal mistake.” The shieldmaiden held up a third finger. “You knew about it. When you saw it, you were first to recognize it. Not just what it was, but how it fought.”

Rael froze. She knew.

“That information could have saved lives…but I will not fault you for it. I don’t think you expected to see a demon again.”

“I knew it.” Kip whispered, pointing a finger into Rael’s face. “You were on the ship. You survived the demon attack four months ago.”

“Stop.” Edith warned in a dark tone she’d never used with Kip before. Kip shut up.

“Jarl Feldon suspects why you are so…closed off to us. This is not just some southerner animosity born from a generational grudge.”

“For the record,” Rael mumbled, “A Faulk raid did kill my great-grandfather and most of his family.”

“And you’ve shown a stunning care for your blood-related kin.” Edith’s sarcasm was thick. “No, this is a grudge based on ideals, ones that you think we have. Feldon recognized the look in your eyes. Someone who has seen the wrong end of a whip, felt the bite of manacles.”

Rael growled. It was as if every secret they had was plucked away, layer by layer.

Kip sucked in a breath. “You were a—”

“Another word, skald, and I will break your fingers.” Edith stood up, looming over Kip.

‘Skald?’

Kip’s features faded away, revealing a sheepishly smiling Skald Meayetti.

“When did you figure it out?” She nervously paced backwards.

“Why would I tell you?” Edith scowled. “So you can better learn to sneak into conversations with people who’ve risked life and limb together?”

“Can’t fault a girl for trying.” Meayetti shrugged.

“I can. I’m willing to let you and your merry troupe continue borrowing our transportation if you swear not to reveal anything you’ve learned without Rael’s permission.” Edith approached Meayetti, a full two heads taller than the spindly woman.

“Okay, okay!” The skald raised her hands in surrender. “I swear.”

“Good. Now run along.” Edith crossed her arms and watched Meayetti scurry away. Once she had disappeared into the crowd of Faulk heading back to the village, the Shieldmaiden sat back down. “Clear and firm. That’s how you deal with nosey skalds.”

“Ah.”

The two of them sat there a few more moments, Rael too tired to deal with all the churning thoughts in their head. Rael settled on exhausted indifference.

“It was the accent, wasn’t it?”

“And the way he walked, the fact he didn’t rush into battle, and being more bearable to be around.”

“He is annoyingly cheerful.” Rael let out a small laugh.