Tragic Heroine

Yarny

Took a break from writing to get adjusted to college, and then ended up putting off any and all writing until now. I thought I should continue this as a New Year's resolution. Anyways, here's a new chapter (and a new cover for the occasion). Can't make any promises on update frequency in my coming semester, but until then I'll try to put out a few more chapters.

 

It’s her, that sly demon girl! Bertram’s thoughts raced as he fled. What was she doing there? He turned his head mid stride to make sure he wasn’t followed. Seeing no sign of her, he slowed his pace, eventually leaning on the wall of an alleyway to catch his breath.

“You aren’t very good at running away.” A voice chimed from right next to him. Bertram spun on impulse, arm raised in preparation to strike.

His hand was stopped, by a finger no less..

“Hello again.” Ilias looked up at him, showing a disarming smile. 

“What do you want, demon?” Bertram glared daggers at her.

“Who knew that in the midst of fending for myself in this cruel city I would run into you, angel boy?” She mimicked a dainty voice. “It could only be serendipity for the two of us to meet. It can’t be helped, I’ll gladly assist you–”

“I don’t need your help.” He fought to free himself, struggling even with his above-average strength. “And I have a name. Bertram.”

“Oh, please.” Ilias scoffed, falling back to her usual roughness. “If I leave you alone, you’ll only be a danger to yourself and those you care about.” She casually flipped back a loose strand of hair. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. There’s an aura to you now that shouldn’t exist in a human.”

“What do you mean?”

The demon returned with a cheshire grin while teasing him.

“I’m guessing the angel contracted to you still hasn’t revealed anything useful?”

“…only bits and pieces.” He didn’t think it was possible, but her smile widened.

“Then, since I’m feeling bored, I guess I’ll take some time to educate you.” She patted his back. “Come along with me. I assume that you’re more familiar with this place than I am.” 

“What? There’s no way I’m just going to follow you.” Bertram didn’t bother hiding his suspicion.

“Not even for a bite to eat?” A portal appeared above Ilias, sending a handful of coins into her open palm. She bounced them in her hand a few times to let him hear them jingle. He schooled his expression into a poker face. 

“Have it your way then.” He followed her lead, not able to resist the allure of free food.

In a corner of his mind, he heard Albiel mocking his naivety for following the witch at the slightest temptation.

But nothing bad has happened so far, right?

_______________________________________

 

They visited a bakery in the capital's commoner district that he’d frequented many times before, to the point of becoming acquainted with the owner and his wife. Ilias assured him that they could neither be seen nor heard by anyone else.

Said demon girl was munching down on a small mountain of pastries, the entire spectacle being wholly ignored by the people around them, true to her word.

“Countless years spent in isolation tend to leave one craving for everything the world has to offer. Food included.” Ilias wiped her mouth with an arm. She eyed a small confection on his plate, which seemed to fall through the fabric of reality and into her waiting mouth. 

Bertram only stared, flabbergasted, eventually deciding not to protest. 

“You’re not here to wreak havoc in this kingdom, right?” He asked, knowing full well he wasn’t in a position to stop the demon if she decided to let loose. Ilias snorted.

“Believe me, if I really wanted to, then you and this part of the city would be long gone.” Her gaze momentarily darkened. “I’m just out and about to venture the world and settle a few loose ends.”

He took her word for it.

“How did you even get out?” He asked. That was a secure Domain, from what meager knowledge his spirit had given him on the subject. It was made to be as isolated from the real world as possible, likely to keep this demon inside, and others out.

“I got freed by the girl you were with last time. Christiana was her name.” Ilias answered in between mouthfuls of pastry. “Since you seem so intent on sticking to her like some parasite, I figured the least I could do is to make sure you can shoulder your own burden.” 

Bertram twitched his eyelid in exasperation, both from knowing that the princess had gotten herself into trouble once more, and from the scathing remark hitting still-fresh wounds.

“So, er, miss…” He continued awkwardly.

“You can call me Lia while we’re out in public, but Ilias is fine as well.” Decked out in a frilly black dress, “Lia” looked just like any ordinary girl binging away at her sweets. 

She snapped her fingers, and a wave of invisible mana spread into their surroundings. “Good, no unwanted spectators.” She rested her head in her arms, her stare boring into him. “Enough of the small talk, let’s get down to business.” And then Bertram saw the ages-old devil behind the mask. For a split second he felt a pressure that no amount of training or conditioning could resist. 

Bertram swallowed his saliva.

“Since a year ago, I’ve been dealing with these… urges. I did my best to ignore them at first, thinking that they were mood swings that every kid went through.”

“But lately they’ve only gotten worse and more frequent. It’s not normal. I’ve seen anger. I’ve seen violent tantrums. But the kinds of things that enter my mind in these episodes terrify me.” He clenched his fists, recalling the kinds of things he felt compelled to do. As he spoke his expression warred between desperation and frustration.

“Ah, I see now.” Ilias’s voice interrupted him from his churning thoughts.

“What?” 

“Hold out your finger.” He complied, at first with hesitation, then with resolve.

Shark-like teeth clamped down on his digit, instantly drawing blood. He snarled, pulling back on his arm. Ilias nonchalantly licked her lips, ignoring the fuming and confused boy across from her.

“Yep, as I expected. It’s your bloodline.” 

“Blood…line?” 

She stared at him, making him feel like an animal under keen observation.

“Given the nature of your contracted spirit, I’m sure you know of the ancient races?” The old races of the world weren’t common knowledge. What little was known of the Ancient Era was often lost in a mix of tales and legends that changed everywhere you went. To his nod, she continued. “I wouldn’t say it’s unheard of to have mixed blood. Among the higher races, it may be looked down upon, but not exactly taboo.” 

“But it’s an even rarer case for atavists like you to show up after so many generations. From what I’ve seen –and tasted– so far, you’re likely descended from the werebeasts.” She wrinkled her nose. “A wolf clan, too. Which may or may not be a bad thing.” She raised a hand to stop Bertram from erupting into a mess of questions, and bared her fangs into a fiercer scowl when it looked like he’d protest.

She beckoned for one more offering from the boy’s plate, which he begrudgingly paid. Her toll received, Ilias continued. 

“All the ancient races have an intrinsic tie to mana. The magic of the world flows through them like a conduit. You can say that it is their very lifeblood. It should make sense, then, that just as mana itself contains a Will, so too does the blood you’ve inherited.”

“It’s been running in your veins since day one and it’s been passed through your family line for how many ages. At most it should’ve caused a few personality quirks here and there, nothing too major. You, on the other hand, somehow awakened the dormant mana in your blood. The Will of your ancestors resonated with you. For what purpose or reason is for you to find out. But your awakened bloodline’s made you capable of unintentional feats of magic, especially in cases of extreme stress. I’m sure you know yourself of what I’m talking about.”

He did. When he was at home, struggling not to lash out. In the knights when he was looked down upon and jeered at by his peers. When he fought the princess with the intention to hurt her in their first meeting. And just now, when his father tried to convince him to join his treasonous cause.

He felt sick, the bread he ate became like a lead ball in his stomach.

“Don’t be ashamed or afraid of your blood. The wolves were feared for their ferocity and strength in combat. But that doesn’t mean they were all mindless beasts. They were a noble race with strong bonds of kinship and an even greater sense of honor.”

He chuckled wryly. Kinship? Ironic.

“You have a gift that a rare few humans can get: magic that you can call your own. Cultivate and treat it well. Cooperate with your instinct instead of disobeying it. Your blood is special for a reason. Rejecting its Will means rejecting your own.

“So if there’s nothing I can do to control this, how should I just let out all of these… impulses?”

She looked at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head.

“What do you think?” Ilias answered blankly. “How many wild monsters, evil bastards, and rampaging beasts roam this world? You’re a knight. Go do your job.” She berated him before standing up. 

“My job here is done.” She turned, a portal appearing in front of her that no one in their vicinity noticed despite thrumming with a fearful amount of magic. 

“Wait.” Bertram called out, hesitating before continuing. “Why are you so against me being contracted to an angel?” He understood how demons and angels didn’t necessarily get along, but he recognized a different kind of grievance in the girl in front of him.

A personal hatred, one with history. 

She replied after a moment’s silence, her back still facing him. 

“You’re a good kid. You don’t deserve any of what’s happening to you right now.” For the first time since their rough meeting, he felt like he heard a note of sympathy in her voice. Ilias stepped halfway into the gaping tear in space. “Just watch yourself, boy. Nothing good ever comes out of being involved in Heaven’s plans.”

And then she left. Without a sound, and without any trace of her ever being there. With her gone, he heard the bustle around him with greater clarity. But his mind was elsewhere.

Bertram sat there in thought. His hand reached for his mother’s knife in his breast pocket. Her maiden name was etched onto its hand carved hilt, the Espard crest was embedded onto its mythril steel edge.

A reminder of what he once had. And now, of what he had left to protect. 

_______________________________________

 

When Ilias returned to Chris's side, she found the girl dueling Raisendel in the wind spirit’s apparition form. She took a moment to watch as the much more experienced warrior slipped through the girl’s every attack like she was striking air. A sheen of sweat was apparent on Chris’s brow, her eyes were locked in focus on her opponent. There were no onlookers to cheer either on –the royal knights had a day off. 

The elf was smiling as she darted into the gap in her partner’s guard, a wave of wind blowing from her to knock the princess onto the ground, the sound of her clattering sword marking her defeat. 

“That was cheating.” Chris groaned as she lifted herself off the dirt, trying and failing to pat the dust and rubble off her clothes. A melodious giggle escaped Raisendel’s lips, the elf sending a soothing breeze to cool them down. “Thanks.” Chris begrudgingly said.

“What was that saying you told me? All is fair in love and war. You shouldn’t hesitate to fight dirty when the time calls for it.” Raisendel turned towards an approaching figure. “It seems we also have a visitor.”

“Oh hey, how’s it going?” Chris waved at Ilias, who chose to drop her “Lia” disguise upon entering the clearing. 

“Is there ever a day of rest for you?” The demon snarked.

“Not really.” The girl lamented while stretching her limbs, knowing that the training was for her own good, as well as part of her desperate bid to survive in the future.

Ilias conjured a small custard tart from a circular portal on her palm, making Chris’s brows raise.

“Pastry?” offered Ilias.

“You know the way to my heart already.” The girl chuckled, gladly accepting it. 

Raisendel smiled at their antics. 

“Well, I suppose we can rest for a while.” They walked towards an ironwood tree in the distance for shade, conversing along the way.

“Father is off on a trip with High Priest Maxwell to Silvine for a very important meeting. They were annoyingly tight-lipped on the subject too, for whatever reason. As for me, I’m preparing for my own travel to the deep tundra up north. We seem to have an agreement with the Glaceran Tsardom for periodic excursions.” She recounted what Elenoa had drilled in her head.

Ilias frowned at her words.

“I didn’t even realize how long I’ve been gone. Glacera was only one of many northern tribes when I was active. And this Silvine, is this a new country that arose in recent centuries?”

Chris smirked, jumping on the chance to finally show off her past self’s hard-won knowledge. They continued, an unlikely pair of human girl and devil caught in the flow of conversation, while an elf watched on in contentment. All three souls relished in this companionship while it lasted.

Sitting comfortably under the ironwood, Ilias felt her body relax, the tension leaving her weary bones. It had been a long, long while since she felt this at ease. Next to Christiana, she felt tempted to move on from her bitter past, and set aside her current burdens. A part of her wanted to hide away her brand as Exile, to forge a new identity beside the girl who looked and behaved so similar to Amphitrite.

It was a dangerous feeling, this longing. And it was one that had cost her dearly centuries past.

“What’s wrong?” asked Chris, concern evident on her face from the sudden silence. 

“I’m sorry.” Ilias muttered. They were two simple words, and yet it took every fiber of her being to speak them. For it meant rejecting the sickeningly sweet lie she deluded herself into believing she could live out.

“I can’t stay with you. Being with me will only get you into trouble that you’re not ready for.” In her mind, a door that had been open until now had creaked shut. There was no going back.

The girl seemed to want to say something, only stopping when a ghostly silver hand rested on her shoulder. Raisendel shook her head at her contractor, warning Chris against testing Ilias’s gathered resolve. To respect her choice, no matter the outcome.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Chris responded.

“Ilias, if you ever need somebody to talk to, I’m always here for you. Even if I may not be as wise or well spoken as others, I’m still your friend.

“Mn.” Ilias nodded, not rejecting her touch.

Friend. So simple, yet so beautiful a word. And looking into the human girl’s eyes, the ages-old demon knew that when all was said and done, there would always be a place for her at Christiana’s side. 

Ilias stood up. A luminous portal opened on the path in front of her, humming with a dense supply of space magic. Walking forward felt as impossible as wading through lead. A voice sounded out from behind her.

“This isn’t a goodbye, but a see you later, Lia.”

She didn’t turn, out of fear that the girl and her spirit would see the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. She must be strong. She must move forward. Ilias forced a smile on her face to prevent her voice from breaking.

“Then, we’ll see each other again when you become a whole lot stronger than you are now.”

“Sure!”

Then Ilias walked into the shining portal, her smile this time being a lot more real, knowing that they will surely meet again.

_______________________________________

 

Belrhast is famed for being the oldest nation, having existed since the dawn of known history. It was where Heaven’s draconic armies first descended to defeat an unknown enemy, or so it was recorded in what little scripture remained, with the rest being damaged beyond repair. 

Aside from its close connection to the fabled, and little-understood dragons of old, the kingdom is also well known for containing the largest mountain range in the known reaches of Irudeia, the Neamohr mountains. Legendary in their own right, and completely inhospitable. Even at the lowest peak the air is too thin, the primal mana too chaotic and dense, for any life to survive beyond. 

Humanity can only speculate as to what exactly lies beyond those treacherous peaks, with most fervent believers of the Deuran faith surmising that at the highest peak is a gate to Heaven. Many make the pilgrimage to the base of Neahmor each year in hopes of becoming closer to the divine, while marveling at the majesty of magic harmonizing with nature. 

 

Ilias scoffed, closing the travel guide she’d stolen off of a vendor that tried to sell it for several times more than the actual price. Luckily the seasoned traveler knew a scam when she saw one, and thus repaid attempted theft with actual theft.

“This is too funny.” Only humans could have the imagination to think that a literal gate to heaven lay atop the highest peak. An insurmountable goal that could only be achieved by a demigod level individual.

She knew fully well which ‘spectacular’ being actually resided at the top. 

“Still, why does this bastard have to live at one of the few places in the world my space magic can’t fucking reach.” Ilias swore, suddenly remembering how Raisendel had berated Christiana for the girl’s less than stellar manners at certain times.

She sighed.

“Well then, let’s get a move on.” Maybe she could gather some more useful info from any of the caravans heading to Neamohr. It may take her a while to catch up to current human affairs, being in the know of those matters could let her help Christiana.

Even from far away, she saw the mountain range poking into the clouds. Her eyes briefly gleamed a deep crimson, her demeanor momentarily dyed in bloodlust, before reverting to the unassuming guise of Lia.

It was about time she met with a very old acquaintance.

 

After all, who said that revenge had to be done alone?

Yarny

For those who are getting tired of other characters' perspectives, next chapter will be in Chris's POV. Let me know if there are any formatting issues, pacing/consistency issues, etc, since it's been a while.