Posts from Divine Journey

*In short, Heimr hangs out near Kerlian. He doesn't make deals with demons.*

- Damn, damn, damn! I don't know what to do, - anger and frustration could be felt in the elf's voice. - I'll have to wait, if they even come back...
Kerlian gives the amulet to Heimyr.

I calmly emerge onto the surface.

The Demon and Reynold found themselves in a strange place. Everything around was white—the color of snow; it was on the ground, and it was in the air. It seemed that blizzards were common here, although it was calm at the moment. And it should have been cold, but the battle mage felt nothing.
- The year 979, - the demon pronounced, and then laughed again - Mwa-ha-ha, do not look upon what is happening with such an incomprehending gaze. The past can be seen, but not changed.
And they began to observe...

A Castle, resembling more of a tower stretching toward the sun like a plant, loomed somewhere in the distance, partially buried under snow. This place seemed abandoned and completely deserted, which is what lured dozens of marauders there, who left their lives behind. Like a wild beast that bares its fangs only when its victim comes close enough for a bite.
At the top of a snowy hill were two riders, peering at the tower with the eyes of starving wolves looking at a sheep. Both faces were hidden under hoods and masks protecting them from the cold, but this did not prevent a pair of black and blue eyes from meeting.
- Is this our goal? – the owner of the icy eyes said dryly.
- Yes, it seems we have found the place we seek.
- I see, - the man continued to peer at the tower, - in that case, we strike tomorrow morning. Until then, we should rest.
- Donar mentioned that he found an inconspicuous little village not very far from here; there is an inn where one can both sleep and dine.
- Excellent, then we shall stay there.

A second later, both the Demon and Reynold were already inside the premises.

A sharp girl's scream flew through the entire tower like a bird. She sat in a silk chair and with annoyance examined a red spot on her pinkish cheek in the mirror. Two steps away from her stood a man with a bare torso. And, although his face was covered in wrinkles and his hair had turned gray, his body was in great shape. Such was the power of the white mage, whose knowledge of the human body was terrifying.
At the level of the right shoulder, seams were visible, as if his arm had been cut off and sewn back on. He addressed the girl sitting in the chair:
- A shot to the face from an arquebus would have killed anyone else, but for you, it seems, this is a trifle.
The girl's eyes lit up.
- This is so humiliating... Some wretched human shot me. – her lips curled into a habitual smile, a clawed palm clenched into a fist, - I will gut them all...
- First, we must deal with someone else, - said the voice of a dark elf appearing from the shadows. He cast off his hood, revealing a head devoid of hair due to burns. His complexion was a light shade of purple, as is typical for all dark elves. His nose was broken, and the iris of the right eye was colorless, testifying to blindness. - While scouting the surroundings, I came across hoofprints. There was no snowfall or strong wind today, so they weren't covered, - having ensured he was being listened to attentively, he continued, - by them, I reached the village nearby. They stopped at the only inn there.
- How man...
- Five, - the voice of the figure in black cut him off.
- Only five. You've found a reason for concern, - snorted the half-demon.
- Prudence won't hurt, - the mage began to reflect to himself, - perhaps I will arrange a small greeting for them; besides, this village may cause trouble further on. A cleanup is necessary.

The place changed once more.

The villagers looked at the newcomers with amazement—with delight and trepidation, as rarely did anyone from outside visit them. Their fear, however, vanished as soon as the guests entered the inn. The cause of this was Donar. A two-meter giant who knew how to win people over. Now, treating all the patrons at his own expense, he sat surrounded by village beauties, indulging in ale. His belly could hold more than the belly of any normal human. Opposite him sat Ibrahim, chatting with the residents, asking them about life here. In a remote corner of the room, a samurai had settled. In solitude, he drank tea, making it clear with his gaze that he did not wish to converse or share drinks at one table. A blue-eyed blond, who had long since parted with his armor, went up the stairs and entered one of the rooms. His own. Fatigue fell upon him; he lay down on the bed. When his eyes were closed and his mind began to sink into sleep, he felt a familiar, pleasant scent. It was her. The Demon. Undoubtedly, she was not just a few hundred, but perhaps a thousand years old, yet next to the twenty-five-year-old blond, she looked like a young girl.
He had known her for about three years, since he left his homeland—the Rosicrucian Kingdom—and he still did not understand why she followed him wherever he went. During all this time, he had grown attached to her; she became a close friend to him. Perhaps her attitude toward him was the same? This could explain everything if humanity were not aware of the nature of demons.
Furthermore, it troubled him that demons cannot linger long in the world of mortals. Lesser demons are doomed to be born and die in the blazing hell; others can afford to leave the expanses of hell for a short time. The stronger the demon, the longer they can hold out here. And she remained with him for hours, sometimes. This frightened him. She never took part in battle, and he did not know her powers. Although, over time, this began to matter little. He grew used to her and never saw any evil in her. Only playfulness.
Black wings disappeared, and she descended onto the bed, sitting next to the pale-faced youth. He looked into her large red eyes, and memories flooded back. About three years ago, when he and his friends were not yet traveling, he spent the night in an inn, lying on a bed just like this. She lay beside him, pressing close. He never objected, and she explained it by saying that she liked the warmth of his body. Warm, kind, and noble. Then she asked him why he trusted her, since all demons are considered evil. He replied that he disagreed with this. To the question "why?", a barely noticeable smile appeared on the pale face, from whose lips came "because I know you".
Somewhere outside, Xuan was strolling, studying the architecture and culture of the village. All around were wooden and stone buildings of simple design—nothing interesting. He turned toward the town cemetery. The local graves differed in no way from ordinary imperial tombstones.
A growl was heard; a mound of earth near a person began to shake—bodies began to rise from under the ground, one after another.
The sorcerer concentrated, magical energy beginning to envelop his body; he waved his right hand and five clumps of magical energy rushed toward the dead, knocking the bodies over, leaving only legs standing on the ground. The number of dead grew; Xuan ran into town. Four of his friends ran out at the shout and rushed to their comrade, who explained the situation while gasping for air.
The blond shouted commandingly, cutting one of the dead in half—protect the residents!
The heads of the dead who came too close to the samurai immediately flew high into the sky, severed from the body by a razor-sharp katana.
Ibrahim crushed the dead flesh with his trusty morning star, swinging the weapon around, destroying the enemies gathered around him.
A moment—and another dozen dead were destroyed by magical clumps launched by the mage's hands.
In his heart, Donar wished to rush into battle, crushing his enemies, but he preferred to take on the protection of the village residents, not letting them get too close; he ran through the village here and there.
After some time, the dead were put to rest; not a single village resident was harmed. Avoiding casualties was only possible because Xuan had been strolling through town and noticed the dead rising from their graves in time.

Reynold finds himself in the tower once more.

- Your puppets turned out to be useless, – the girl snorted again.
- Perhaps that is for the best, - answered Derzadar, - necromancy is repulsive to me. I achieved certain successes in it only because it is closely linked with healing magic. The only difference is—in one case you have to deal with living beings, in the other—with the dead.
- It doesn't matter, - the half-demon rose, - I will deal with them myself.
The girl was about to fly up, but her wrist was gripped tightly by the dark elf, who had appeared from nowhere as always, - they will come here themselves; there is no need to rush events, - he said dryly.
The half-demon literally bored into him with her eyes, but the elf withstood the gaze, not reacting at all. Nene boiled even more. With a sharp flap of her wings, she released a magical burst, forcing the dark elf to jump back. The girl seethed with rage. A fiery spear appeared in her right hand, which she immediately threw at Zaal, then again and again. They flew past the dark elf at great speed, who deftly dodged, without receiving a single wound. In the blink of an eye, he appeared before her, placing a dagger to her throat. His gaze was still cold and devoid of emotion.
The white mage clapped his hands several times, so that the sound echoed throughout the room, drawing all attention to the source.
- We have guests.
Nene freed herself from the dark elf's dagger and moved aside, as if saying "I'll handle this". Zaal did not stop her.


...

Five riders left their horses far behind and headed on foot toward a barely noticeable cave near the tower. It was situated in such a way that most people, not knowing the exact location, would never find it; however, for Donar, a tracker, the best of the best, this was a mere trifle. A secret door located at the end of the cave was also easily found. Passing through it, they found themselves in absolute darkness. They did not need a torch, however—Xuan created an aura of magical light around himself, which was quite enough to illuminate the way for his friends. Crossing prison cells and a cellar, they entered the hall. Laughter drifted down from somewhere above. A girl's laughter. Nene—the half-demon girl—sat on a wide chandelier. She looked at her "victims" with contempt and anticipation of pleasure.
- So... – began the half-demon, baring her teeth in a smile.
Xuan, however, did not even listen to her; quickly drawing a pentagram in the air with his finger, its contours glowing with blue flame, he folded his hands into some gesture and suddenly Nene fell to the ground, pressed down as if a rock were crushing her from above. The mage burst into laughter, looking at the helpless girl who had just been confident of her victory. Now she was simultaneously writhing in pain and rage that overflowed.
- A demon would simply be banished, but since you are a half-breed, you are bound to this world, - explained the mage, - Takeshi, finish her.
The samurai listened to his friend's request and rushed toward the defenseless girl, drawing his katana. An unexpected stream of electrical energy released from the hands of the mage in the white robe stopped him. Takeshi fell to his knees, leaning on his sword with his hands. However, now the gazes of those who had invaded the tower were fixed elsewhere. The hooded dark elf appeared behind Xuan's back, placing the blade of a dagger to his throat. The assassin's hand jerked to the side; blood spurted from the caster's neck as the body fell to the ground. The eyes of the four men, even the wounded samurai, widened. A second of silence followed, which seemed like an eternity. The blond lightning-fast drew his sword from its scabbard and slashed... the air. The elf was not in the place where he had just stood. The half-demon, however, remained pressed to the ground; the effect of the spell would apparently last for some time more. Donar did not wait for the assassin's return and simply ran toward the white mage, in whose fingers lightning sparkled again. An electrical wave headed toward the brute, but he didn't even notice it. Derzadar could not have expected that his opponent would be so tough and possess such strong natural resistance to magical energy. The beak of the flail dug into the mage's chest. He screamed in pain and reflexively tried to move himself far away from here, sensing his death. He succeeded—he teleported himself to the top of the tower, but together with the frenzied Donar. The giant sharply pulled the handle of the flail and tore it out of the mage's body along with a piece of flesh. A cry of agonizing pain rang out from the mage's lips again; he fell onto both knees. Without wasting time on reflection, Donar ran up to the mage and hit him under the chin with the beak of the flail. The mage flew down from the tower.
Below, a prolonged silence continued. The dark elf still did not show himself.
- Come out and fight! – Ibrahim shouted in a burst of rage.
No answer followed. Suddenly, one of the ground portals near the throne lit up.
Donar ended up at the top of the tower because of the mage's teleportation, but he didn't know how to get down. Jump down? Try to make a hole in the floor?
Suddenly he held his breath and shifted all his strength to his hearing. Something was approaching...
A dragon, the color of gold, was flying toward him at great speed. An elven dragon... This was undoubtedly an elite dragon rider of Lunarion. Flying over the top of the tower, the dragon, on the rider's command, breathed a stream of flame toward Donar, to which he responded with a wonderful ability to dodge. Flying over the tower a second time, the dragon did nothing, but the rider jumped down to Donar, knocking him off his feet. The fair-haired elf, sitting atop the huge man, quickly drew his blade and swung... The sword cut the wooden part of the flail in half and rushed to strike Donar's flesh, but he reacted at the last moment, and a heavy hand touched the elf's delicate face. Verion (the elf) lay unconscious, with his sword not far from him. Donar took it in his hands, intending to finish off his enemy. The dragon, feeling that its master was in danger, rushed toward the tower, knocking the enemy off his feet. Donar had no other choice but to hold onto the dragon. The sword was still in his hands, and the man, while in the air at high speed, crawled toward the monster's head. He raised the sword and with all his might plunged it into the dragon's flesh. Both, man and dragon, flew toward the ground in a deadly dance of winds.
Below, in the hall, the battle was still continuing. A beautiful brunette emerged from the portal in stunning, unconventional armor—shiny, light steel decorated with gold and precious stones, with impractical slits in places revealing a flawless figure. The armor looked more ceremonial than combat-ready. When she leaped toward the samurai, it turned out that in reality, the armor was very light and flexible. Two blades of unusual shape rushed toward the samurai. To his surprise, reflecting the blow proved not so simple. Ibrahim rushed to help his comrade, swinging toward the brunette. She easily dodged and pushed him away with her foot; Ibrahim hit the wall. The dark elf emerged from the shadow again, threw a knife, and immediately vanished again. The morning star fell to the ground; blood flowed down its owner's body, seeping from a hole in his forehead left by the assassin's knife.
Zaal distracted the blond while the duel between the samurai and the girl in unusual armor continued. Takeshi felt increasing exhaustion, and suddenly his defense gave way—the girl made a sharp thrust forward with both swords simultaneously, one knocking the katana out of the man's hands, the other wounding him in the chest. One more swing, and the samurai lost his head. The dark elf vanished again. Now the blond and the assassin-girl stood opposite each other.
He took only one breath and, with sword in hand, rushed toward her...
Leaving the tower, Zaal threw Nene, who had still not come to her senses, over his shoulder. They would no longer need this tower...

- And how do you think it all ended? Right, that's when his demon girlfriend appeared again and finally showed her true face.

A youth with golden hair, braided at the bottom back into a long queue, lay on the bloody floor, covered in cuts, near death. He lay on his back, and short metal spears protruded from his wrists and shins, pinning him to the ground; he could not move. Resigned, he waited for death; consciousness faded... A beautiful winged creature appeared over the dying man. An angel? No, a demon. When she looked at him, a sadness unusual for demons appeared on her face. Perhaps feigned. She carefully removed the spears from his body, then knelt beside him and spoke aloud:
- Usually, as a sign of agreement, the one receiving the gift bows before the demon, kissing its feet, but since you are in such a position... – the demon giggled and leaned down to him, kissing his lips, - now... – she sighed – you are my minion, slave, - the girl laughed slightly again, - don't worry, it is merely a formality, - she said, knowing that the man still could not hear her.

- Demons... Different, in a word. What do you mortals call it? Everyone has their own quirks. Having eternal life, each of us fights boredom in our own way. Returning to your "business proposal"... What use is it to me that you will kill those like yourself? That isn't even slightly amusing. However, solely out of my whim, I can endow you with demonic power; perhaps this seed will sow chaos in your world and make it a bit more interesting? Ha-ha-ha. But you must be prepared for the consequences.

Reynolds had been silently observing the group the whole time, without uttering a word. "A trip down memory lane? And a desire to show the dangers of interacting with demons? This guy is a real softie!" When the demon finally finished rummaging through someone's past and delivered a moral to Trast, he couldn't hide his surprise. "Demons are different, you say? I readily believe it! I seem to have gotten a demon moralist!" "You must know people; our knowledge of demons is rather, um, limited. And, given your awareness, it shouldn't be a secret to you that people consider demons to be malevolent beings. As for the consequences, by that you mean reciprocal favors from me, right? Something that will alleviate your boredom?" "Well, he's definitely not a 'malevolent being,' more like a thousand-year-old demon with a god complex. But his offer is interesting, albeit peculiar. I've often had to curry favor with those in power, but they didn't give me tours of my past! Although, a supernatural patron wouldn't hurt. It would mean that instead of dealing with bureaucrats, I'd be kissing up to higher powers. You reach a new level, Reynolds!"

Alko approaches the part of the group that is sitting in the room with the portrait and shield: - Wow, so there was a secret stash here? - Alko whistled happily - anything valuable? - he then looked at the melancholic orc with the shield in his hands - Kerlian! Did you finally manage to steal the shield after the third attempt? - the mercenary suddenly stopped - Kerlian, can you even talk?

Examines the hall for other entrances and exits.

Sivi, the stash was above the stairs leading to the coin, and we're already outside with Hommi :D

- Kerlian! After the third attempt, did you finally manage to remove the shield? - the mercenary suddenly stopped - Kerlian, can you even talk?

- Yes, I managed to remove it. And I can talk, as you can see. But we now have a different kind of problem, if you can call it that. Reynold tried to make a deal with a demon, and they disappeared. - the elf himself could hardly believe what he was saying and what was happening, but it was reality.
lol, I went to the bathroom for 5 minutes and disappeared

Alko approaches the part of the group sitting in the room with the portrait and shield:
-Wow, so there was a secret stash here? - Alko whistled happily - anything valuable? - he looked at the melancholic orc with the shield in his hands - Kerlian! Did you finally manage to steal the shield after the third attempt? - the mercenary suddenly stopped - Kerlian, can you even talk?

- Maybe he's just very upset. This amulet turned out to be a real piece of junk. - And Heimyr told Alko about how they summoned a demon and how it dragged Trast away with it. - Now we're just sitting here waiting for him to return. If he returns at all.

As for the consequences, are you referring to reciprocal favors from me, right? Something that would alleviate your boredom?

- No. If I were asking for something in return, it would be a condition of the deal, not a consequence. Let's just say, - the demon smirked, - you can stop being who you were. Ha-ha, not to mention that members of your own people might turn out to be scarier than any monster from your legends.

Examines the hall for other entrances and exits.

But finds none. The only option is to turn back.

- The power of demons transforms both the body and the spirit, right? But what if the bestowed power is, say, a weapon?

Sivi, the secret passage was above the stairs leading to the coin room, and we were already outside with Hommy.

How did you two sneak outside so unnoticed! But then we can assume that I still saw the open secret passage (Hommy didn't write that he closed it!), and then I went outside and saw you.
-Did Reynold make a deal with the devil and disappear? And what did he get in return, and what did he give up?

- He didn't make a deal, he was just about to. He wanted to extend his life and become stronger.

*Heimir is trying again to explore the area for roads.*

Nael cast a weary glance at the smoldering creature in the cage and followed the others. It was time to get out of this place.