“Diabolism is only dangerous if the summoners are-”


    — Dread Empress Sinistra IV, the Erroneous


    <hr>


    Drip.


    The night pressed in on us like a guild master spotting an unlicensed street vendor, relentless and entirely too personal. The snow beneath the soldiers’ boots crunched with every hurried step, a sound that might have been comforting if not for the green flames dancing with the blood-red sky behind us. Another nightmare willow whipped at us with its branches, sending soldiers sprawling as it scythed through the ranks. Shadows slithered across the snow and neatly decapitated a feathery, tentacled abomination slinking from between the northern trees. Really, couldn’t Aksum keep their pets to themselves?


    Screams ate at the darkness.


    A fresh barrage of clay balls soared overhead, crashing into the northern countryside with a sound that rumbled through the ground—a sound a little too familiar, if I was being honest. Like my stomach back on the streets of Laure, loud enough that I once convinced someone it was an angry stray just to make off with their bread. The vibrations deepened, a slow crescendo that echoed through the road ahead. Shadows began to buzz like a hornet’s nest on the warpath as another corrupted monstrosity—a bear-like thing with lanterns for eyes—tore free from the ground in a spray of dirt and malice.


    “I’ll admit, I’m gaining a grudging respect for invisible tiger armies,” I muttered. “At least they had the decency not to slime the hills of Marchford.”


    The monstrosity bounced toward us, tentacle paws trailing goo that hissed as it hit the snow. It might have been funny if we weren’t its meal of choice. Not quite as amusing as watching Praesi bureaucrats skitter along a lard-coated road, but still.


    Ahead, the infantry braced, their shields forming a ragged line just off the road as the creature encroached. Shadows hugged my shoulders, pleading to be unleashed. Tempting, but experience had taught me that using them in situations like this was an excellent way to add another hundred men to the casualty lists. My Name chose the most useful moments to be utterly useless to me. Wager declined, I turned to Teresa, who was barking orders as the infantry flanked us.


    “Infantry,” Teresa shouted, “Dr-”


    “Pull back, now!” Akua’s announced, her lips pressed into a line. I shivered as the warmth of her hands settled atop my own. “Unless you’d rather die proving your valour.”


    “Run like a demon’s behind you,” Teresa ordered, “because there damned well is one!”


    And run they did. The soldiers carved a parallel line through the snow, scattering faster than I’d seen starving kids in Laure tear through a month-old loaf. Impressive, really. Who knew grown men could run that fast when properly motivated?


    Akua’s voice dipped into a murmur as she began chanting under her breath. I nudged Pony forward and jerked my head just in time to avoid the jagged thorns that sliced through the air toward us. Blood—mine, I think—splattered into the snow. With a flick of my hand, shadows unfurled like eager dogs, shredding a cluster of flying porcupines into grotesque ribbons. It might have been satisfying if I could focus on it for more than a heartbeat.


    Drip.


    Darkness lapped at the edges of my vision, like the creeping haze of too much wine—or one of Tesia Sahelian’s lectures on Praesi taxation laws. Both were equally deadly, really. My head spun, and the whisper of temptation stirred. My aspect could clear this, I thought. I just needed to Absorb something monstrous and push back the haze. But no. I was enough of a monster already, wasn’t I? Adding demon ichor to the mix felt like one step too far.


    “Aim!” a shrill voice called, cutting through the chaos like a knife.


    The screams of soldiers tangled with the howls of too-many-toothed wolves and the crackling limbs of gnarled tree-beasts. Twisted shapes scrambled through the snow, tangling with our flanks as the creak of drawn bowstrings spread across the valley. I caught flashes of mercenaries struggling against horrors, their weapons parting flesh with satisfying rips.


    “Loose!” the same voice ordered.


    The hiss of a snake arcing through the air filled the valley, the sound nearly drowned out by the screeches of malformed monsters as they fell. No, not snake, arrows. I shook my head. Patches of red and black filling my sight as my vision swam. Glyphs floated in the air around me—except they weren’t glyphs, were they? Snowflakes, maybe. Or thorns. Or nothing at all. Pony craned her neck and narrowly avoided the lash of a tree’s animated branch. I held on to her like a Merchant Lord grasping their last coin.


    The praesi tax collector advanced, its lanterns for eyes pulsing brighter with every slither it took. Akua’s chanting cut off as she snapped her palm toward it. A frigid wind blasted out, shrivelling its lanterns and turning its tentacles into limp, blackened husks. It screeched, its death throes more pathetic than threatening, before collapsing into the snow with a heavy thud.


    “The next wave won’t wait,” she said. “Let’s make haste, unless you’d prefer to meet them unprepared.”


    I said nothing as she leaned against me. Friendships in Praes, I reminded myself, were mostly a matter of convenience and thinly veiled hostility.


    “Move your asses,” my voice slurred, but I forced the words out. “Let''s find a place with better drinks and company.”


    Trees blurred, melting into walls. The snow underfoot became marble tiles, red skies shifting into a painted mosaic. My head swam, and my eyelids drooped. Everything was wrong. Wrong.


    Wake up, Catherine. The words reached me as though carried on a breeze, faint but persistent.


    I clawed at the fog dulling my mind, tried to shake it loose like snow from a heavy cloak.


    Tried, and…


    If you die, the last words you hear will be me saying I told you so. That grounded me, much like being locked away in a cell had introduced me to the harsh realities of heroism.


    I’ll live forever just to prove you wrong, I thought back. The world wavered, but I latched on to the words like a noose to a throat. Walls became trees, marble tiles became snow, and the crimson sky slid back into place like a shattered mosaic poorly glued together.


    I stared ahead, disoriented.


    Twenty steps.


    We’d moved twenty steps!


    That was it?


    The haze clawed at the edge of my mind, but I wrestled it back. Then the ground split open, and a scaled stinger erupted before us, scattering my thoughts like crumbs on a plate. Pony reared, Akua yelped, and we hit the ground in a tangle of limbs. The stinger slammed down, missing by inches, before twisting into a leering grin as it burrowed into the soil.


    Shadows gleefully tore free of their leash. They ripped into the thing until it was no more than scraps and ichor splattered across the snow.


    I turned my head and winced.


    Pony’s broken body lay sprawled by the road.


    Ahead, another wave of twisted creatures cantered into view.


    Drip.


    The fog seeped in again, dragging me under. My thoughts festered. Demons to the north and east, goblinfire to the west. The poison spread, and I didn’t need the Black Knight’s tactical brilliance to know we were already choking on it.


    “To the south!” I ordered, my words dragging from my lips. “We’re pulling off the road.”


    “You heard her!” Teresa shouted. “Onward to the other fields of Callow. We’re not paid to die a swift death on this one.”


    A weak cheer broke through the ranks, the kind that comes when someone promises ale but serves goat’s milk instead. Progress was agonizing. Every hundred paces came at the cost of another soul. Monsters dogged our every step as we forced our way through the snow.


    The world rippled again.


    Trees bent and blurred, stretching into towers, then books, then cups. I stopped trying to make sense of it. My grip on reality was fraying, and every step forward shredded it further. I could do it, a dark part of me whispered. I could use my aspect: not on a corrupted monster, but on an ally instead.


    No.


    We just had to last. To…


    To…


    Marchford. Marchford was where I could rest. Where I could close my eyes.


    Coolness touched my hand, startling me. I blinked, sluggish and unfocused. A palm. Abigail? No. Too smooth. Akua. Right. Healing. That was something magic could do. Not that it helped with the blood already staining the snow.


    “The snow along that hill looks disturbed,” Abigail pointed up the side of a page. “Perhaps Goblins?”


    “That way,” I murmured. “Let’s hope it’s goblins and not another waking nightmare.”


    “I don’t think they’ll-” Her voice cut off as the ground heaved beneath us. Snow rippled like water, ink spilling into the air. The sound of scribbling quills filled my ears, and I ducked as a hissing metal blur—a grotesque blend of a letter opener and a swan—shot past my head.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Instinct took over. Shadows sharpened and lashed out, striking back.


    Thump.


    The lid of a teapot bounced once, then rolled to a stop on the tray.


    Abigail’s woollen horse reared in the corner of my eye as a twenty-legged tablecloth lashed at her. She clung to the reins, much like I clung to the last vestiges of my sanity. I called for my shadows again, but a lanky puppet in plain black armour stepped from the gloom.


    Black strings? William. It had to be.


    His sword flashed, slicing through knitted legs one after another. A line of steaming cups—no, goblins, not cups—flanked him to either side. His blade struck true, again and again, until the beast collapsed into a lifeless heap.


    “William,” I mumbled, “if you’re done grandstanding, we’ve got a demon to deal with. We ne-”


    “You will keep your troops away from ours,” he snapped, cutting me off like it was his duty to be as insufferable as possible.


    His ship sailed parallel to ours—wait, ships? No, not ships. Marching columns. Or maybe trees. The ninth—that much I was certain of—moved in behind him. More cries rang out as something glittered to the side. A flying fish with iridescent scales vaulted over an imagined railing, snapping at sailors who weren’t there, before its head was neatly severed by a sword that probably was.


    “What are you talking about?” I croaked, my bloody palm tightening around the hilt of my blade. Shadows coalesced into a spear in my other hand, and before I could think better of it, I hurled it at a hovering jellyfish that was—oh, no, not jellyfish. Birds. Definitely birds. And absolutely dissolving someone. My crew? My thoughts tripped over themselves as the spear tore through its target.


    Fine. So long as the corrupted thing was dead, we were fine.


    “Catherine Foundling,”  a dry voice called out from somewhere below. “Akua Sahelian. I know exactly who you two are.”


    I squinted, struggling to pin the voice to something solid. A goblin, yes. Deep yellow eyes, skin like old parchment, and a thin red line painted along her neck. Marshal Ranker. Of course. I spent a humiliating amount of time piecing that together as she raised her arm and barked out an order. Clay spheres arced through the air moments later.


    Heat shimmered as green fire erupted around us, cutting the sky apart.


    “Marshal Ranker,” Akua greeted smoothly, not missing a beat as she hurled a fireball at something blistered and writhing. “Allow us to add our forces to yours. A demon is loose in Marchford’s hills.”


    “Way I see it,” the goblin continued, raising her hand again and ignoring Akua, “you old breed of villains are all the same. You’d find an opportunity to knife us in the back. There’s no proof you didn’t set this demon free on your own.”


    I tried to laugh, but it came out as a ragged cough. Me? Summoning demons? A Callowan girl? Sure, the armor and my current associations painted a picture, but it was the kind of story only a Praesi could buy. Callow’s Named didn’t bother with demons, likely on account of our Named being less inclined to monologue. Really, I hadn’t even had the chance to do that yet, either. You’d think they’d realize I was a mite opposed to marching demons across the continent, considering I’d only dipped my toes into the lake of Evil and not dived right in.


    “We played no part in this, I assure you,” Akua said, her poise unshaken even as the ground trembled beneath her feet. She turned a stumble into an elegant recovery with a fluidity that made me wonder if she practised even her mistakes, brushing the hem of her dress.


    The back of my neck prickled as black specks blotted out the crimson above. Oh, crimson? Well, the sky was back, at least. Malignant crows cawed as they dropped into the ranks, their claws raking at mercenaries who screamed and twisted in agony. A net of darkness spread from my fingers, shredding a cluster of birds mid-flight. Another murder rose from the distant trees, and I cursed under my breath.


    “I’m sure,” the goblin said, her tone bone-dry, “but I’ll see to my men’s safety regardless.”


    She barked an order, and bolts streaked through the sky, tearing into the flock. Teresa picked up the call, and a hail of arrows followed close behind.


    “Soldiers are dying, and all you—” I growled, stepping forward.


    “I’ve been threatened by scarier Names than you,” she interrupted. “I considered ordering my troops to drown your little crew in goblinfire. Save Amadeus the trouble of putting you down himself. Keep your distance, Novice, lest you touch something that burns.”


    Threats. Now. Of course. Because soldiers dying and a loose demon weren’t enough to deal with. Eldritch tendrils rippled around me as I took a step toward her. Ranker smiled as she raised two fingers to her lips, and I tensed. Another step.


    Akua’s hand closed around mine, her grip firm despite the blood slicking my skin.


    I froze.


    “You won’t survive if you do that,” I said.


    “No,” Ranker agreed, with a sharp, humorless grin, “but neither would you.”


    I pushed aside my exhaustion and peered deep into her eyes.


    I caught a glimpse of something cold and ugly. The same look I’d seen in the eyes of the Reluctant Strategist as I’d taken her life all those many years ago. Years ago? No, only months. Forget the past. Now was what counted. Ranker would do it. She’d throw away her own life, so long as it kept us out of stabbing range.


    Summerholm grasped tight in green fingers rose unbidden from memory.


    I drowned it in other nightmares instead.


    “And what about you, William?” I asked, attention drifting to the boy on strings. “Fine with sitting back and letting us die?”


    “She’s right,” the Squire muttered, his eyes darting away. “It’s an opportunity for you to betray us.”


    I shared a glance of collective disdain with the pure hearted maiden beside me. What had the Calamities taught him about Praesi politics? To think, that he’d assume I’d resort to such a pedestrian plot while simultaneously assuming I’d let a demon loose. A true Praesi betrayal wouldn’t be anything so obvious. No, political deaths were arranged by poison. Personalized murders were for friends and family.


    Dipping her toes in the water, she says, the voice added.


    “I don’t like you enough to kill you with anything other than poison,” I mused.


    “All the same,” the Squire dismissed, “I don’t want you close.”


    “He feels safer with someone else between him and the demon,” Akua drawled.


    “So the mistress has some claws as well? Not just leaving this to your-”


    Her words ended in a hiss of breath as a dragon surged out of the clouds below us. William moved first, blade flashing in a series of precise strikes—one, two, three—and scales scattered to the wind.


    Dragons and clouds blurred together as the world twisted. I blinked, fighting the darkness gnawing at my thoughts. My stomach turned as the scene resolved. Not a dragon. A tree. An invisible, gods-damned tree had crept up on us.


    Splinters rained down, exploding on impact. Soldiers screamed as aberrant vines slithered over their armour, twisting it into grotesque growths. Men gurgled and lurched as the corruption claimed them, only to turn their blades on their comrades moments later.


    “Cull them!” I ordered, swallowing back the deep feeling of helplessness the fight evoked.


    My vision darkened, but I allowed the nightmares no hold.


    The air cracked and screamed as Fasili brought lightning down on the afflicted. Another root erupted from the ground. I ducked beneath an errant vine, then dodged a snapping branch. Shadows twisted of their own accord, wrapping themselves around a trunk and weaving through the bark.


    BAn ape-like creature howled, its cry sharp enough to draw blood from soldiers’ ears. I staggered and swung my arm down, shadows tearing another branch free. Goblinfire roared along the edges of the battle as Ranker’s troops burned the corrupted growths, but there were too many. William and the ninth retreated, their blades angled toward us as much as the enemy.


    We stumbled closer to Marchford.


    Closer to nowhere.


    I swore. What could we do? The longer this dragged on, the worse our odds became. Akua had called upon a devil’s contract before. Could she call on one again? “Tell me you’ve got something up your sleeve, Akua, because I’m about two nightmares away from losing it.” I declared.


    “We could sacrifice the mercenaries for a temporary contract,” she mused, “but the cost would be altogether not worth it in the long term.”


    The word no balanced on the edge of my tongue, but I swallowed it. Wasn’t it better for a few to die if it meant the rest of us survived? I’d refused to Absorb any of my soldiers, but… my shoulders sagged. Had I sunk that far?


    Abigail’s accusing eyes pierced my own.


    No. Not yet.


    “I do-,” my words were ripped away as another arboreal monstrosity roared its displeasure. Akua and I stumbled, shadows and fire lashing out to carve space between us and the creature’s thrashing limbs.


    “Negotiating a contract mid-battle with a demon is certain to end in our death,” Akua declared, apparently under the misapprehension I’d decided to ask her to follow through with it.


    Hysteria bubbled in my throat. Twigs with razor sharp leaves pulled perilously close to my skin, before a wave of shadows hurled the malformed limb away from us. I’d read about what demons could do. Read about how they changed people, destroyed cities, mutated forests, twisting everything they touched into something aberrant. And still, never had I thought I would experience being on the other end.


    Didn’t you say you could teach me to swing a sword? I asked the voice.


    Roots pulled free from the ground and smashed into the ground beside us. Soldiers’ swords dug uselessly through bark, only for it to harden into metallic scales in the heartbeats that followed.


    Now’s hardly the time for a lesson, Catherine, it replied.


    Akua spat an incantation, only for a thunderous detonation to throw her to the ground as another burning branch struck the earth before us.


    “I’m not dying to a demon,” I snarled. Shadows sheared away at metal and wood, creating space between us and our foe. I grabbed my friend by her hand and pulled her to her feet. Friend? Yes, friend. What we had counted as friendship in Praes anyhow. It would be my hands, and not poison, that strangled her pretty throat.


    What you want and what reality dictates are not one and the same, the voice replied.


    A bolt of lightning shattered the burning construct, but it wasn’t enough.


    Then the thought struck. Absurd and desperate, but the kind of idea I could only consider with everything going to hell.


    Take the reins. I thought at my parasite. I’m running out of options here.


    Your meaning eludes me, the voice lied.


    Don’t play stupid, I know you followed along. Can you possess my body? I insisted.


    The voice claimed it could swing a sword. Claimed it knew how to be a hero. Somebody who could hold their own against a demon and inspire loyalty among those they commanded. I didn’t like giving up control. The idea terrified me, but… well, a hero was what we needed. A hero, not… somebody like me.


    “I’m not-” The voice cut off as another wave of monstrous poultry fell upon us from above. A quilt of darkness rose, only to be torn right through. Because why not? It was a corruption demon. A demon that subverted existence. Of course, it undermined my weapon as well. A flagging wave of arrows cut down many, but far more made it through unharmed.


    I wasn’t about to take a refusal from the voice.


    Not after everything else had gone wrong.


    “Enough’s enough.” I declared. “Nightmares have haunted my every step. It’s time that I Haunt them in turn.”