Demon Among Devils (OPEN)

It was potentially something pulled out of a fairy tale, were Celeste to ever regale the way this particular venture had started for her, one weary night under the pain of exhaustion. A thorough search for shelter proved fruitless in a city so unforgiving to her ilk. A collection of conjured blankets in the back of a sleepy tavern in the cheap side bazaar, proved suitable enough - yet warranted one eye open for lack of faith and trust placed in her environment. Who could blame her? She was over who knew how many parsecs from what could still remotely be considered home, feeling rather out of her element since arriving in this strange place. Still, fatigue could not be overcome in the end of a long and tumultuous battle for her eyelids. Eventually Celeste would succumb to a deep enough sleep, that she could almost slip from her body for how weightless she might feel.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened either, to be pulled from where she slept by way of her mana “relaxing” itself, so effortlessly that she would pass beyond the mortal realm. Upon discovering the means to traverse the void itself, there were at times the strain became too much for her conscious mind to handle. Celeste wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, only that it usually happened off a level of instinct. She would drift into a sleep where a greater potential for control possibly existed, into a realm that paralleled the beyond, of commune between the living dreamers and the awoken dead. Tonight however, was the deepest the witch had ever dreamed. It was all her body could do to follow to save the soul that felt itself drawn to the other side.

The rip into Otherworld was seamless, any distortion in time unapparent as the rip in the veil closed instantaneously. The atmosphere rushed past the witch in her rapid descent, for it wasn’t until the rustle of leaves, and the sharp prickling of sudden pains did she wake from her slumber. Wide-eyed she made to cry out, but for every gathering of breath did she find it seized from her diaphragm by a thickened branch. Again, and again her grace was demonstrated for every piece of wood she struck, until finally the canopy would dispel the blond over the triumphant brunette below with the force of the witch’s own gravity.

Celeste wasn’t sure what she hit on the way down besides the tree, only that her head pounded worse than it had in weeks, and she was pretty nauseous. Imaginary pumpkins circled her head as she lay there delirious and spiral-eyed after another unexpected hiccup in her power. There was a low audible groan from the depths of her throat, conveying the amount of disdain she felt over her condition (despite not being able to, for the moment, consciously voice her opinion of it.)

PL: 37,000 |Antisense: ON
TWC: 483

It was something akin of a dream twisting and turning itself into a nightmare, although it was hard to ascertain whether any of it was real upon waking. Celeste stirred from her dazed state when a familiar, and rather undesirable voice made itself known in her ear. He said it almost casually, but with a dry taste that Celeste hardly missed. The headache persisted, the abnormal light doing little to ease the sensitivity her eyes held upon fluttering open. The sight of a massive flora expanded as high as she could potentially see, against askew and abstract altocumulus. The blond rose to sit quickly, stricken with confusion, looking about her as the various ogres recoiled to merit the girl some space. She greeted them with incredulous skepticism. Where the hell was, she now? The irony of such a statement failing to dawn upon the girl, when her eyes finally settled on the smug purveyor of forbidden fruit near the colossus of a trunk.

”Fate is so cruel,” she would mutter under her breath. The moment went to the demon’s satisfaction, all sense of the witch’s dignity having been taken with the fall. She didn’t bother to search for any misplaced pride, instead choosing to revel in the humility of it all, and ignored the piteous comment about stooping to their level. It was true there was some play of karma at work here, for the last these two met had been on a rooftop, bleeding, held to force a bargain at the behest of a possessed abomination. There was no love lost between the likes of Celeste and the girl Griselda’s ever so charming tenant Usumidori.

The witch offered the demon a frown, before a brow arched at his introduction to the others present. A weak and sheepish greeting given here, another bashful glance and half-assed wave there. One had the decency to speak up, but the blond was quickly starting to recognize the situation for what it was. Friends seemed like a very loose term here, much like it was used by Selene back home; the same way to describe those eager to help with a little applied pressure. If the way some of these ogres kept eyeing the sword bearer was anything to go by, Celeste had a feeling her suspicion proved correct.

”What a pleasant surprise.”

The witch rose to stand, taking a moment to dust herself off before giving the tree another thorough observation. Now what was so special about this rather daunting specimen? Celeste let her eyes wander beyond to sinking sun and flawed sky over yet another foreign horizon. Now however was she to find her way out of this abysmal place? She could almost taste it on the air. The calm before a storm. Oh, the irony of it all was simply too rich to contain herself.

Celeste gave a soft laugh tinged as much with whimsy as it was with malice. "Now, there's no need for hostility. I know we've had something of a...checkered history, but I do hope we can move past that." Celeste shook her head and turned on her heel towards them. She glanced between the ogres and Usumi before tilting her chin and offered them all her best smile. "What do you say? Friends?" She waited several seconds, the ogres looking back to their bully in further confusion, before the witch would click her tongue. "No. Perhaps not..."

"We'll have to settle for reluctant allies then," Celeste said jovially, glancing out on the terrain thoughtfully. After a moment, she returned her gaze to the demon, smirking bitterly. "Very reluctant."

TWC: 1,084

Celeste was never one to forego an opportunity to learn more if it ever so presented itself. Such too could be said in light of a potential enemy. The more she understood about a foe, as much as a friend, the better she could determine how to help them, whatever course that might be. She listened wholly to the arrogant, yet honest retort of the demon as the space between apparent rivals closed. Her eyes rarely left the fruit that Usumi so nonchalantly toyed with, Celeste finding her focus drawn from time to time back to the tree. So, if she understood those words correctly, souls judged in misfortune may come here, where he sat, gorging upon the condemned. Was a demon’s appetite truly ever sated? Celeste might attest that her curiosity never rested, nor did the thirst to know more.

The sorceress did her best to stifle the desire to lash out at this possession case, wanting nothing more than to put the arrogant prince behind those stolen eyes in his rightful place. Somewhere in the same miserable dark corner within this ill-fated realm that Kowlin had managed to find a cozy piece of property on. The witch held little doubt the faux god’s spirit probably found its way here, regrettably where her grandfather too possibly found rest without peace. Something about the notion brought on a numbness to her tongue, a chill in her chest.

All of this brought into question the rest of the lives lost at the hands of Selene’s infamous purge of the village. Where were they now? She felt her gaze fall to the tertiary hued glade about the base of the massive tree. More truths came readily as the demon revealed his interest in her house name, desiring the origin of her blood. Why, she was uncertain. Perhaps to gauge the merit of its worth. Maybe to add it to an extensive collection hidden somewhere in this damned realm. Whatever the reason, it proved an apparent driving factor to this obsession developed around herself.

Celeste’s eyes moved to meet that of the shorter girl’s once more, eventually coming to a drift between the half-eaten fruit, and the flora which had so wearily produced it. If there was any trace of the host this prince so desperately clung to, perhaps she might glimpse the sincerity in the witch’s eyes when her resolve did steel. The witch’s hand would lash out, attempting to seize the wrist of Usumi which still held the oozing pear-like orb. Celeste aimed to pull the demon closer, and stare down her affirmation into those shades of wild crimson.

”Leave these tenants and their charge be, and I will tell you what you wish to know.”

TWC: 1,537

Upon seeing the fruit discarded, and the rest tumble across the abnormal grass, the sorceress wasn’t sure exactly from where the satisfaction she felt was birthed. A sense of triumph, yes – though over what? Was it the notion that she saved the souls that became the fruit? Perhaps alleviated and spared the ogres of any further trouble for the foreseeable future?

The mere hollowed pride that bled out of her for playing the hero? She wouldn’t even go so far to proclaim herself so haughty a thing. Real heroes were deserving of fancy titles, parades, and days named after them for whatever asinine deeds accomplished to win the masses over. At least, that’s what she had come to believe of the city-dwellers growing up, with their comic books, after school action shows, and pay per view wrestling.

The witch would relinquish her hold on the other girl’s wrist when taunted, offering but a simple ”No,” in retort when pressed about her confidence. Celeste would offer the tree another final look, weighing what she suspected its purpose to be, its condition, and what she recalled of the state in the mortal realm. Either something was terribly wrong back there, or another unknown force was at play to provoke these conditions upon the state of this realm. It wasn’t meant to be a utopia by any standards, this much Celeste realized, but even something seemed off about this land.

The sorceress would take moment of silence to offer her respects to this sacred place – not the gods who so carelessly abandoned it. With that done she would turn to leave, offering the demon nothing in spite nor any indication that he should follow. There was little doubt in her mind he was likely bound to do so whether she wished it or not. The deal she had offered to spare the caretakers of Usumi’s wrath may have proved too enticing to pass up, as disinclined as Celeste was to follow through on it. She didn’t trust a soul from this realm to uphold any quid pro quo without additional complications, in fact it was possibly one of the first rules she was sworn to remember about her preordained profession.

It wasn’t like her to go back on an honest deal, though – whomsoever it was made with was usually honored if it could be helped to her advantage. An exchange here could provide Celeste some potential insight into the goals or motivations of future threats, or at the very least, clarity regarding how things operated here on the other side of the veil. She so relished the opportunity to learn more about this place. Though where was one to begin without a proper guide? The only suitable choice was far more interested in her than her desires or wishes it would seem. An internal sigh over what may as well be a wasted opportunity – just her luck.

Celeste found her steps come to a cease near the fountain, her curiosity drawn naturally to its source and initial purpose here in the garden. The witch could almost hear the comments Astor would have for this charming locale in her head. A sculpture for the ogres perhaps? She could almost visualize the decadence of however so many of them lounging about the place, drinking cocktails from the very fountain itself.

”I wonder, is it larger than the one back home?”

TWC: 2,102

A place like this could take years on Earth to thoroughly study – even then, it was possible the greatest scholars back home would fail even a fraction of worth to discovering anything here. It was...beyond them. Being here in the flesh, to look upon these condemned lands themselves, Celeste came to some understanding that this place wasn’t meant for everyone to see, much less so effortlessly traverse as she would appear to.

The very notion that she could exist as she did here at all was a testament to the separation between Celeste and potentially the entirety of the human race. The whispers in the dark among hushed lips, the cryptic scribbles in so many journals, the bewildered expressions on so many faces time and again. The mystical properties of the thing alone could have entranced the witch for hours, were she left to her wonders and speculations.

A hand waved into the witch’s periphery would break her train of thought, brightening eyes from a somber, cognitive silence. ”Hm? Oh, yes,” uttered the witch, righting herself from her careful observation of the crimson waters. An amused hum, a glance about the placid marble in decorum. The girl would raise an upturned palm, then concentrate her focus and energy into the space twixt a thumb and index, before a prominent SNAP! would fill the acoustics of the vicinity. A puff of smoke with a rather comical sound to it, bright animated star and spirals, and then in the wake of the rather showy display, an old Victorian table set would sit resting before the fountain. Upon the eloquent cloth across finely stained mahogany, sat a beautiful porcelain tea set upon a silver platter, a pitcher of cream, and a stack of sugar cubes next to some freshly baked biscuits.

The witch took the farthest of the two seats, paying the swordsman little mind as she went about preparing both cups and then her own saucer, a playful tune hummed about her breath. ”Ah, it’s amazing what a few comforts from back home can do,” A teaspoon twirled about the steaming cup slowly, her eyes drifting upward to lock with those of the other girl. ”I’m not usually one to stand on ceremony, but you have requested introductions, so please, call me Celeste. Though my name is of little consequence.” The witch would offer a kind gesture to the other cup, before taking a slow sip from her own; a sigh of satisfaction given before the porcelain would clink again.

A devilish grin, a twinkle in those brilliant eyes.

”As for my knowledge, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. It has always been my own.”

TWC: 2,545

Celeste was no fool. She held her number of suspicions as to why the demon wanted her family name so badly. After all, what was in a name? Security, kinship, identity, strength. It was no secret among the hunters of those who called this realm sanctuary, that a name to a demon alone held great power for those who know how to use it. Potentially as great of a weapon, as it was a crippling weakness. To invoke the name of an archfiend was, among her people, recorded as the few ways to render it susceptible. Doubtless, this is what Celeste too suspected the intent behind those ruby tinged eyes of her, for the time being, amicable dining partner.

Celeste tapped her fingers across the top of the table and considered Usumi quietly. He wanted a conflict, surely, but she supposed a simpler distraction would do. Like a dinner date, perhaps. It was as good a use of her night as any, and perhaps the demon would prove some adequate entertainment for this was all said and done. After all, she wasn’t in a particular hurry to leave a place teething to the brim with intrigue and fascination.

“Oh?” Celeste tilted her head, eyebrow raised. What an odd thing to say. One couldn’t tell whether she had missed the pressing of the question, or if she’d meant to be rude. Still, she gave a light laugh to cover for herself. “My then. My profoundest apologies. You looked far too parched for talking. I thought you might have required some refreshments!” She leaned forward, flashing the other girl a devilish smile.

”Besides, I hardly find this arrangement fair if I’m to gain nothing from it at all.” The ultimatum she presented stood clearly enough, a proposed quid pro quo. A shrug before she went about stirring the tea in her cup once more, paying little mind to the rest of the questions asked. The blond gave two subtle taps of the spoon on the lip of the porcelain, before setting it down upon the edge of her saucer. “As for where my secrets come from…” Celeste tilted her chin, leaning it against her palm as she considered the ceiling thoughtfully. “I don’t remember a thing, I’m afraid. Quite tragic.” She let out a long, dramatic sigh.

“Amnesia is such a terrible curse. I suppose you’ll have to ask the one who knows,” she would muse with a hum. A thoughtful glimpse given to the fountain outside, and the horizon far out beyond it. ”I imagine they’re out there, somewhere...”

TWC: 2,973

”Now, now. Can’t I merely enjoy the atmosphere?” She sipped at the glass in her hand. The burn touched dully at her tongue. ”There is so little amusement to be had here, after all. What trickery do you imagine I’d wreak now that I have... fallen to obscurity. Hm?” She blew upon the steaming drink thoughtfully. ”Why not continue to play along? Your life of endless drudgery must drain on your spirit. It must all seem so dreadfully dull. ”

A cold gaze was returned to meet the demon, the witch devoid of the jovial air to her presence, as though she had been stricken to the core with the very root of sincerity. A brow arched out of disinterest in the petty argument the possession was beginning to bring up, the direct confrontation aimed at her nonchalance and misdirection.

”How very astute of you,” she said. ”But I can’t say that I much appreciate the sentiment. And it seems that you’ve quite forgotten terms of our fragile truce. Namely, your compliance for my peaceful cooperation. Thrice you pressed me for a name, and a name I have given. If you desire nothing more, then our business is concluded. Should you seek anything further, then I shall require something in return.”

The witch went about finishing her tea, before gracefully returning it to the saucer, taking a moment to eye what remained in the other cup. She wondered, did demons consider their glasses half-empty, or half-full? It mattered naught to the witch how Usumi possibly viewed their prey, so long as they held something of potential, Celeste suspected the spirit cared little for such trivialities in the world.

If a yearning for power and the secrets behind the blood that housed it were enough to warrant a sit down with her, then there was no telling what other lengths it may go to achieve its goals. That level of ambition was dangerous, and the sorceress was beginning to further understand that. The sorceress would flash another dangerous smile, before rising to her feet. Celeste would stop her pacing and stood some five feet away, turning to face the other with a smirk that reflected every bit of the darkness inside of the witch.

”Oh, yes. There was something else, wasn’t there?” A thoughtful hum before she would lightly chuckle to herself in the moment. ”But whatever am I to do? I’ve only honest inquiries of my own, and your skepticism paints a dark picture of my words.” A dramatic, defeated sigh with a palm on her face to compliment the act. ”I do believe if we are to get anywhere with this little arrangement,” she let the words fall into silence. The witch would approach again to close the distance, taking a moment to cross her arms and nod at the table. That moment a white-hot flame began to carve three words deep into the surface of the wood, where it would glow with a prominent heat: Celeste Lux Verum

”It would go further with an inkling of trust.”

TWC: 3,482