Newly Summoned Demoness - Chapter 32 - Questions and Answers

Elania followed behind Marcus and the monks far enough that she was able to study all of them. An itch scratched at her senses, giving her the feeling that somehow they were still monitoring her, despite appearing not to look at her at all. Heck, they probably were, with some skill or spell or something she had no idea existed.

The stone stairs down to the village proper were lined with Mushroohums resting or watching the procession of humans and their large basket backpacks full of [Glow-Moss] descend.

As she studied the ranger’s back, she felt a hollow feeling. Shouldn’t she have felt some type of relief at finding other humans that could possibly answer her questions? A little voice of doubt filled her as she continued to follow along.

The memory of the paladin trying to kill her was still fresh in her mind… and the first reaction from the monk party had been in the same vein. The look in the novice’s eyes had been real fear. Marcus, Taniel, and Joren had all shown varying forms of hostility at first, as well.

The high level of the ranger made her worry, but one thing she had learned so far was that levels weren’t everything. She wasn’t even sure they did much at all.

When they reached the cavern floor, one of the novices tripped and fell face first onto the stone. The lid to his basket broke open and the glowing moss scattered across the ground. Joren laid into the younger man with a vicious tongue lashing as they collected the spilled, seemingly precious, moss.

They sure were going through a lot of trouble to get the stuff. The tunnels near the cultist dungeon had been full of it… at least until she’d incinerated it all. Why, then, was it so valuable? Certainly she hadn’t nuked all the glow moss in the entire world…it wasn’t that rare, right?

One of the larger Mushroohum buildings was opened up for them, baskets of blankets were made available as well as some supplies. A fresh brace of gutted Elnats was tied together on a line outside the building, hinting at the evening meal. Elania felt a bit of surprise at just how much the Mushroohums were helping the group.

They hadn’t offered her an [Elnat] to cook, and she felt slightly betrayed. As the monks entered the building, Marcus stopped and turned towards her.

“So, Little Demon, how did you end up out here? Some poor group accidentally summon you? Pull yourself out of some primordial soup? Group of unlucky cavers run into you and get turned into snacks?” His barrage of questions caught her off guard.

“I was summoned. On purpose, though,” she admitted, keeping her tone neutral despite the sting of his words. She wasn’t sure how much to share just yet—about the cultists or the paladin who had tried to kill her on arrival. She pulled her red shoulder shawl closed a bit tighter; she definitely didn’t want to share anything about her mana shard.

Her admission seemed to amuse Marcus as he leaned back against the building’s wall and let out a low chuckle. “Ah, yes. A group of incompetents dealing with something well beyond them.” His gaze was piercing as he continued, “Probably didn’t even realize that a newly summoned demoness’ favorite snack is essence-brimming sapients.”

Elania’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s how you got that form. Ate enough humans to evolve into one. Normally that doesn’t happen so early on in a Demon’s career though, so you’re a bit of an oddball. Other than the ones raised specifically for that purpose, of course.”

Elania felt a shiver go down her spine. People purposefully summoned…monster demons and fed them people to turn them into sapient demons? Why? The world was turning much darker than she had imagined with every sentence. Maybe going to the city was not the best idea after all.

“You’ll want to be careful around the monks,” he warned casually, gesturing toward the entryway. “Their Conclave doesn’t have much love for demons—its one of their mandates to hunt down and deal with them. Especially unbound ones that have slipped their contract.”

“Unbound? What’s that mean?” Elania asked before adding defensively, “And how do you know I don’t already have a contract?”

A smug smile spread across his face at the question, as if he had been waiting for it all along. It made her feel distinctly uncomfortable, as if she had just walked into some sort of trap.

“As a fresh off the circle demoness,” he began in a patronizing tone, “You’ll probably not have any experience with contracts yet…Your eyes are red; you aren’t under contract at the moment. If you were, they’d shine blue.”

He paused, his grin widening as he saw the confusion flicker in her eyes. “One thing a demon can’t do is hide their eyes. Windows to the soul and all that if you’d like.”

Elania felt a sickening sense of dread settle within her. [Identify] and now her eye color—it didn’t seem like it would be very easy to hide her designation. Being a demon came with far too many tells for her liking.

“There’s no way to hide it? No way to fool Identify?” Elania asked.

“No skill, anyway. Mayhap a magic trinket or artifice out there, but I’ve never heard of anything specific,” he replied.

Before she could ask anything else, a call echoed from inside. “Marcus!”

He shot her a final calculating glance before excusing himself and joining his companions inside.

Venturing inside after him, she found the space similar to the workshop she had been in earlier, albeit on a smaller scale. The open interior left little room for privacy, but it did allow her to take in everything at once.

Supplies and goods had been stacked against one wall, and baskets filled with the [Glow-Moss] lined another. The light didn’t really escape much, but there were tiny holes that made them glitter an ethereal green, which cast itself on the entire interior. That light was mostly drowned out by the glowing torches the monks had, but it was still noticeable.

The novices were occupied in setting up bedrolls, their movements coordinated and efficient. Meanwhile, Taniel knelt by what looked to be a fire pit in the center of the room, attempting to ignite some kindling with a flint and steel.

“Hey! Isn’t that dangerous?” Elania blurted out suddenly, her eyes darting between Taniel’s sparks and the glow-moss baskets with growing alarm. Memories of the wildfire incident resurfaced unbidden; she wasn’t eager for a repeat encounter.

Taniel faltered mid-strike, looking up at her in confusion as his promising flame sputtered out. “What are you on about?” He growled at her defensively.

The monks paused in their tasks momentarily, sharing a confused look between themselves.

Elania pointed at the glow-moss baskets, feeling a rush of anxiety as all eyes turned to her. “Aren’t those really flammable? Is it really safe to have a fire in here with them?”

Taniel resumed his task without responding, his jaw clenched in apparent annoyance.

Joren seemed more understanding and was quick to ease her worries. “The Glow-Moss is only reactive to mana,” he explained calmly. “Regular flame won’t set it off.”

“Oh.” The realization brought relief flooding through Elania; having a campfire without worrying about causing another inferno was indeed reassuring.

Once the fire had begun to burn, Marcus arrived with a pack, removing what she could only call the company’s mess kit. Pots and pans mixed with bowls, plates, and utensils were sorted out onto a stone table. A few novices arrived with armfuls of potatoes, while another fetched the Elnats.

Elania’s stomach suddenly grumbled embarrassingly, drawing glances at her. It was impossible to control the fire reaching her cheeks.

“Better she eats the dinner than one of us,” Joren joked, drawing a dark glare from Taniel and causing the novices to flinch in horror. Marcus only chuckled.

Elania nodded. “I haven’t had a chance to eat much food. I’d appreciate sharing a meal with you all.”

“Sure,” Taniel grumbled.

While the monks worked on cooking, Elania found a spot against the wall near the entrance and watched their efforts play out. Marcus sat at the table and undid his sword belt, which carried the longsword that seemed to have some type of magical effect, plus a long straight dagger. Her gaze flickered between the cooking and the weapons while the ranger went about polishing them.

After a few minutes, Joren looked over at her, “Come sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

Elania shook her head. “I’m fine standing, thanks. How far is it to Neftasu?”

Joren shrugged. “About a week’s travel, depending on the [Razorscale] migration. It isn’t the best time to be traveling through the area.”

Her time since being summoned was hazy; a week represented what she felt might be half as long as she’d been on Eladu so far. It was a considerable distance, considering that she had spent most of her exploration time going in loops and circles to explore the local area around the Mushroohum village. A week traveling in a straight line meant Neftasu was very far away…and she was unlikely to find it on her own.

“A week. Alright. How do you tell what time it is, anyway?” Elania asked. They had mentioned it was evening, but in the Mushroohum cavern, the moss didn’t flip off and on like it had in the wilder areas.

“Just look at your system screen,” one of the novices interjected.

Elania blinked. “I don’t see anything like time on there.”

“She doesn’t have a system clock, unless she linked herself to a binding stone,” Joren corrected.

“Oh. Right, sorry.” The novice offered a sheepish apology before Taniel pulled him away to work on the food preparation. That seemed more calculated to keep the young man away from her than because of any real need for help skewering the Elnats.

“What’s a binding stone? Don’t tell me that if you die, you resurrect at one?” Elania asked hopefully.

Marcus let out a chuckle. “Fun idea, but no. It’s an artifice that provides certain functions to those who live in the area. Clock, maps, the ability to call the guards, among other things. You’ll find a few in Neftasu.”

“And the city ones reach out there? What does using them cost?” Elania asked.

“Binding to one costs nothing. They are provided by the city. Once connected, the binding doesn’t break for several hundred kilometers. It’s how the Guard utilizes long range communication outside the city,” Marcus answered.

This was getting complicated. For starters, she doubted that with all those things the binding stone did, it would be free. If it didn’t cost coin, then the people bound to it probably were the product of whoever operated them. Modern earth certainly had prepared her to be skeptical of free products.

Elania frowned. "What's the city like?"

Marcus laughed. "It's ruled by five powerful Magisters."

Taniel fixed Marcus and then her with a glare. “Why are you bothering to answer her stupid questions? Just offer her a contract before she decides supper isn’t enough and eats one of us while we aren’t paying attention.”

Elania bristled. She did not like his suggestion or where it led. “I don’t plan on making any contracts until I understand everything more,” she paused mid-way to fix Taniel with a frown and stare of her own, which was apparently enough to make him look away. “And I’m not going to eat anyone for a snack. The only thing I’ve absorbed are Ralfots and Darkwalkers.”

His glare snapped back onto her. “So, you’ve forgotten the people you devoured on arrival already, or you’re lying. Joren, don’t entertain this thing, it isn’t safe.”

“I didn’t devour anyone on arrival,” Elania stated clearly. There was obviously a grave misunderstanding, and she wanted to correct it. “There were only humans where I come from. I was a college student getting ready for an exam when some cultists called the Black Candle, yanked me here. Then some holy knight paladin guy tried to murder everyone while they were trying to foist some kind of contract on my head.”

Her eyes flickered between each person, hoping for some type of recognition on the name ‘Black Candle’ but there was nothing. Well, no recognition. There was plenty of distrust.

“I get that you don’t trust me, but I have positive Karma, shouldn’t that count for something?” Elania asked.

Marcus burst out laughing. “Girlie, if you think [Karma] is a yardstick you can use for trust, yer daft.”

Elania’s eyes narrowed, and she glared at him. “Well, I don’t know how it works. I have a lot of good [Karma]. Why doesn’t it count?”

Joren frowned. “When you kill someone with negative [Karma] you’ll receive half of it as positive. The reverse if you kill someone with positive [Karma]. Killing someone with zero will give you negative one point. It’s not a useful measurement, because people abuse the system.”

Elania frowned. “I didn’t kill anyone. I had a positive balance on arrival.”

“Bringing her along is a bad idea. There’s no way we can trust her,” Taniel complained. “Joren, you should get rid of her.”

What had made him hate her so much that he would suggest killing her? Joren actually looked uncomfortable at the thought, at least. The novices were less readable, focusing on stirring the in-progress stew while rotating the skewered Elnats that were roasting on the flame.

Marcus coughed. “Your story doesn’t add up, Girlie. You should work on it a bit, because the things you’re saying don’t jibe with how things actually work.”

Elania crossed her arms and felt glad she was near the exit. “That’s unfortunate, because I’m not lying. That’s what actually happened to me.”

Well, this wasn’t going great. There was a long, awkward silence that settled until the ranger finally broke it.

“Why don’t you show us your [Status] screen,” Marcus asked. “You said you were a student, so you must know writing and magic things then.”

Her eyes flickered to his. “You can do that?”

“It isn’t normally done. A person’s status is very personal,” Joren added.

Marcus gave him an annoyed, sharp look.

“You think it would help prove that I didn’t eat people somehow?” Elania asked.

“Well, you said you were a student, so you must have some skills of the learned, such as writing and the like.” Marcus said.

“I do have [Universal Speech], [Reading], and [Writing],” Elania admitted. A frown creased her face, though, and then she fixed Marcus with a stony glare. “When I absorbed Darkwalkers and Ralfots, my [Stealth] and [Crisis Management] both went up. How does what skills I have on my [Status] prove anything? According to you, I absorbed people, so no matter what skills I have, you could just claim I took them like that.”

Marcus grunted, pulled out a flask of some drink, and took a sip.

The non-answer seemed to tell all. “You just wanted to snoop.”

“It’d be good to know what we are dealing with,” Marcus answered.

Elania shook her head. “You haven’t convinced me it’s in my best interests to just hand over my [Status] like that. Trust is supposed to be mutual, and with Taniel sitting there staring daggers at me, I feel like there’s half-a-chance you lot will try to stab me in the back if it seems convenient.”

Oh. Now she’d done it. Stating thing like that in the open probably wasn’t very… subtle. She quickly changed tack. “How do I get home? I don’t want to stay on Eladu.”

“Die,” Taniel spat at her.

The urge to punch the hostility off the monk’s face was quickly heating up. Except that was probably what he wanted; a fight where it would be her against all of them at once.

Joren winced and quickly added to that bit. “It’s said that when demons dissolve, they go back to where they spawned from.”

“That seems like a very permanent solution with very little evidence backing it up,” Elania said.

Marcus grunted. “There isn’t much known about sending demons back because all of them end up either like the beast you fought or bound by a contract to someone.”

He launched into a more thorough explanation. “Wild demons evolve into a demon form of whatever they devour. Summoned ones evolve into whatever their masters feed them; and it’s not hard to form a contract with a summoned demon. Most are quite trusting and easily tricked into accepting anything as long as they receive enough essence stipend to meet their maintenance costs.”

Essence maintenance? Was that [Power] or something else? She knew her [Power] dropped constantly, even when all her skills were deactivated, so that was the only maintenance cost she knew she had.

“So…people summon demons and turn them into slaves with a contract. Then they turn them into whatever demon type they want by feeding them that? They feed them…humans, and that’s just accepted?” Elania asked.

“No, it’s not just accepted. Your kind are an abomination. It’s a tragedy that you were allowed to occur,” Taniel said.

“It’s more tolerated than Karma markets. Those only exist in the west. But Demon markets are everywhere, including Neftasu,” Marcus added.

Ahh, this was wonderful. Her race was generally regarded as useful slaves, or as dangerous monsters. As a human, she was branded as having devoured a bunch of humans to achieve her form.

From what she had picked up from the monks, their feelings ranged from terror at her existence to the pure hatred that Taniel seemed to exhibit. Marcus was looking for something self-serving. Like a contract that benefited him somehow, considering the tack of the conversation.

The only one who seemed nice was Joren, but one out of seven wasn’t a very good starting benchmark for how people would react.

Marcus offered her a smile that made her feel hunted. “Don’t worry, Little Demon, contracts aren’t always one-sided. You already have a huge advantage in that you’re already sapient and can choose what you accept or not.”

“Stew’s ready,” Joren informed them.

Somehow, she had lost half her desire to eat anything.