I didn’t look down, but I heard High Priest Grants land. There was no scream. No fanfare. No one moving in time to catch him.
And when I dared to look, I saw his broken body lying motionless in the mud and snow, neck bent at an impossible angle.
He’d fallen between Kartania, Seyari, and the church forces, and for this brief moment, the fighting had stopped as everyone stared at the body on the ground.
Sorry Yevon. Guess I screwed things up, huh?
I wanted to cry and roar in equal measure. I was going to lose my future for this, the future that I’d hoped for at any rate. And it wasn’t my fault. I’d been in the right to defend myself. I’d no obligation to offer mercy to my unrepentant assaulter just because I was capable of doing so.
I wanted to scream, but I didn’t.
Instead, I descended, slowly and vertically, the magic of my wings of flame holding me aloft at an impossibly-vertical angle.
“Remember,” I said with a voice that projected far more confidence than I felt at the moment. “I will only be your enemy should you make me one. He—” I gestured to the dead high priest on the ground. “—made me his enemy. I offered him more chances than you offered me.”
I took a step forward as soon as I touched the ground, and the dozens of people with magic that could probably kill me if they all worked together backed away. “I came here to rid this town of a great evil. And I failed. The leader, someone who’s spent decades fooling everyone, ran away further south.
“I don’t expect you to believe me. I expect you to go into this city and believe them.” I crooked a thumb back to where many of the townsfolk were watching from the fringes. I couldn’t bear to look at them. “Honestly, I’m not sure you’ll do that. I don’t think you’d believe it if you could see my own damn memories. So either get your heads out of your asses and look at the reality in front of you, or fuck right off back the way you came.”
I hissed out a small jet of flame, then continued, “I don’t want a war with the Church. I’ve made that much damn clear. But I’m not going to sit here and get pushed around just because I’m willing to concede points and compromise.” I took another step forward and smiled dangerously, showing all my teeth. “Got it?”
One of them grew enough of a spine to speak “You won’t—”
“What?” I snapped. “Get away with this? Do you say that to everyone you attack for no reason who successfully defends themselves? An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind—and if I recall that’s part of your teachings.
“What.” I took another step forward, snow hissing under my feet as it sublimated.
“Did.” Another step, and everyone but the frontrunner backed off.
“I.” I got into their face.
“Do.” I leaned down, getting eye-to-eye with a young man who looked very much like he regretted speaking up.
“Wrong?”
The man shivered. “D-demon…”
“Yes.” I hissed. “And?”
“Y-you killed High Priest Grants!”
“He tried to kill me. More than that—did I egg him on? Did I threaten him?”
The young man gulped, and I saw sweat beading on his brow.
“Leave him alone!” someone shouted.
I felt a lance of white-hot pain tear through my shoulder. For a moment, my vision flashed red, and I wanted to wipe this whole group out. But I restrained myself to a growl. They didn’t deserve death necessarily. Already, the holy magic was being burned out by my own, and I realized that I’d already shrugged off what Grants had done to me. Mostly, I was mad about another new tear in my outfit.
So instead, I gritted my teeth together and backed off, all four arms crossed as my wings faded away. “Fine.”
“You won’t—huh?” the voice stuttered, and I noticed it belonged to a woman about the young man’s age who stood near the middle of the group. At her bravery, I now had half a dozen people readying to attack me.
The wind I felt rushing from behind me was a comfort I didn’t know I needed, and the chill it brought served to cool my anger. “I won’t what?” I raised an eyebrow and took a step back. “Get away with browbeating someone who wanted to kill me? Sorry, but you’ve made the wrath demon angry. Have you even been listening!?”
“I…” the woman faltered.
“I listened,” the young man said quietly. “But I’ll never forgive you. And I don’t believe you either. You’re playing some sort of game with us.”
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness. As far as whether I’m playing a game? Yeah, I am. It’s called ‘the demon can marry the woman she loves and live in Dhias-damned peace’ and let me tell you, it is a very difficult game. A lot of the time I feel like the other side keeps ignoring both the rules and my moves.”
For a brief moment, I got to relish the look of sheer confusion writ across many of the faces in front of me, before another shout broke into the scene.
“Miss Miller!” the same voice that had shouted “wait” earlier called out, this time out of breath.
I looked in that direction, and only then did I notice another group of people, and their battered, regal-looking carriage, as they approached from the tree-covered road out onto the field. The people, that is, not the carriage. That stayed behind, leaning a little from damaged suspension.
The group consisted of five people, four of which were Edathan royal guards. Seyari and Kartania were already half-turned their way. I must not have noticed them with how focused I’d been on the Church forces.
“I… huff… suggest you people refrain from attacking Edathan nobility again.” The non-guard man, dressed in fine winter clothing of primarily Edathan blue, pulled close enough that he didn’t have to shout and stopped with a grateful slouch. “As you… pant… doubtless know, King Carvalon has rescinded Church authority over any such matters. And Marchioness Miller here does not count as an exception despite her… unusual complexion.”
What?
As the finely-dressed man panted, he caught all of us staring. “By royal decree, for her work to save the March of Astrye from an insidious cult, Zarenna Miller has been granted the title of Marchioness by King Carvalon. We were sent south to observe her progress, and present her with the title contingent upon her performance regarding this task.”
“She killed the high priest!” someone shouted.
“She defended herself!” Seyari fired back.
“While I cannot claim to be neutral in the matter,” Kartania said, moving to address all present, “I can say, on my authority as a paladin of Dhias, that Zarenna Miller is no criminal, and her actions here today were in self-defense and nothing more.”
The well-dressed man, his composure now mostly-recovered, straightened. “King Carvalon recognizes the authority of Paladin Kartania Miller, and upon my authority as an acting agent, Zarenna Miller is hereby cleared of any wrongdoing.”
The Church forces tensed, and the royal guard did as well. I stayed silent, for fear my words might spark this issue. It absolutely was not because my mind was stuck processing the fact that I’d become Edathan nobility as of a minute prior.
But.
Well…
I turned to finally look at the people of Astrye who’d gathered to watch. Among them, I spotted Razz, Brynna, and Keran. None of them were smiling—all wore serious looks. The conversation had carried enough for them to hear. I knew it had.
I wasn’t going to get an ovation, or even full acceptance. Me as marchioness wasn’t a perfect solution; a perfect solution didn’t exist. I’d have thought more about it, but Seyari bumped my shoulder and I realized I really did need to say something.
So I took a deep breath. “I believe… that the events of today were the result of an unfortunate misunderstanding. As Marchioness, I am willing to overlook this incident with the understanding that both parties had reasonable reason to suspect mental influence, that information was limited, and that tensions were high.”
The well-dressed man nodded and spoke before anyone else. “And it is truly terrible that High Priest Grants suffered such an accident.” He looked at the High Priest’s corpse, neck broken but without signs of battle.
Immediately, a furor rose through the Church forces, but for the moment no one stepped forward. Next to me, Kartania tensed. Seyari fixed me with a look that said “let it go.” I shook my head, and she sighed, though her eyes twinkled.
“What accident?” I said in a measured voice, taking a step toward the well-dressed man.
As if finally realizing the height difference and what I was, he stepped back. Though he did mouth “what are you doing?” and I felt his anger spike. I swiftly drained it—no more problems, please.
I’m not going to lie. That’ll only hurt me later—and there will be a later. “High Priest Grants, acting within his judgment and without critical information, attacked me. I defended myself, and slew him in combat. His body has not been desecrated, and I will ensure that it is returned for a full burial.”
Despite the chill air, sweat beaded the well-dressed man’s brow and his eyes darted from me to the royal guards, then the Church forces, and back. “O-of course, Marchioness Miller.”
I smiled, showing sharp teeth, and turned to the Church forces. “There. You have your answer. I am not without mercy, but make no mistake. If you return seeking vengeance, personal or otherwise, I will respond to violence in kind.”
Murmurs swept through the crowd, including the far-off townsfolk. Doubtless, the lupaels who heard the conversation were telling the others. The townsfolk were too far to sense anger, and the Church forces were still radiating enough of it that it was a wonder the snow around them wasn’t melting.
I wanted some of their fury, but on the list of plans that could horribly backfire, messing with the mental faculties of Church forces was near the top. Too bad me bringing up that I had this kind of immense restraint wouldn’t help at all.
Eventually the standoff ended when the same Church member I’d yelled at stepped forward. He must have been second in command. “Then we will take the fugitive Yothariel, the soon-to-be-ex paladin Kartania, and be gone.”
“You will do no such thing. They are under my protection.”
“You have no right!”
“She does,” the well-dressed man insisted.
“Is Yothariel a citizen of Edath?” the Church man fired back.
This time, the well-dressed man faltered.
“You may keep Kartania Miller, demon, but we are taking Yothariel.”
Now it was Seyari’s turn. She didn’t step forward, rather stood with her head held high and her good hand cradling her stump. “I am not a citizen of Edath. Not yet.” She looked over at me. “Zarenna?”
What she was planning took me a second, and when I realized, my eyes went wide. “Sey…”
The others present had the good sense to remain silent, and we stared at each other for a long moment.
My sister stepped forward, her expression hard. “Am I not still a Paladin of Dhias?”
“Of course not! You’ve consorted with demons!”
Rather than cut him off, Kartania let the man finish. “May I have your name?” she asked.
The man faltered, glaring at my sister for a moment before answering. “Cedric. Priest Cedric.”
“Very well then, Cedric. Do you have the authority to demote or excommunicate me?”
“This is insane! You’re standing alongside a demon!”
“A demon who seems to have more integrity than members of my own order of late. But I digress; I do not recall High Priest Grants giving an explicit order to annul my position.”
“He clearly said so!”
“He said he would. He implied it.”
“So what?!” Cedric yelled, clenching his fists.
“So I have all the rights granted to me as a Paladin of Dhias.”
For a second, silence reigned over far-off murmurs. Then Cedric’s eyes widened. “You can’t…”
Only when Cedric said it did I realize what Kartania was implying. She can marry us, but only if…
Kartania cocked her head toward the king’s representative. “Do you approve?”
The man nodded solemnly. “I do.”
No hesitation marrying a part-angel to a demon then. Either he trusts Carvalon implicitly, or he really hates the Church. Maybe both.
“Very well then.” My sister’s mirthless smile warmed as she turned to Seyari and me. “I know this is sudden, you two. But are you ready?”
My mind froze for a moment. I had so much I wanted to say, but I hadn’t practiced. I was wearing my Dhias-damned company uniform, and Sey was in traveling clothes, and I hadn’t prepared, and we had no guests, and—
Sey silenced my thoughts with a quick kiss to my neck. “I’d kiss higher, but I don’t feel like climbing,” she said softly. “We can have a ceremony later, Renna.”
I gulped. “Yeah…”
“I won’t allow this!” Cedric shouted, but he made no move to attack.
I glared at him and he shrank away.
“Stay out of this,” Kartania snapped, half-turning her head back toward the Church forces. By now, half of their number looked decidedly unsure. My sister didn’t need to voice a threat, and she turned her gaze back to us. “Let’s begin.”
MadMaxine
It's happening!
If you want to read more, my Patreon's ten weeks ahead of public posting! There are also a few side and short stories!
Also, consider checking out my other story, Scales & Shadows.
If you want to chat about the story or just hang out, my discord is open to all!
I didn’t look down, but I heard High Priest Grants land. There was no scream. No fanfare. No one moving in time to catch him.
And when I dared to look, I saw his broken body lying motionless in the mud and snow, neck bent at an impossible angle.
He’d fallen between Kartania, Seyari, and the church forces, and for this brief moment, the fighting had stopped as everyone stared at the body on the ground.
Sorry Yevon. Guess I screwed things up, huh?
I wanted to cry and roar in equal measure. I was going to lose my future for this, the future that I’d hoped for at any rate. And it wasn’t my fault. I’d been in the right to defend myself. I’d no obligation to offer mercy to my unrepentant assaulter just because I was capable of doing so.
I wanted to scream, but I didn’t.
Instead, I descended, slowly and vertically, the magic of my wings of flame holding me aloft at an impossibly-vertical angle.
“Remember,” I said with a voice that projected far more confidence than I felt at the moment. “I will only be your enemy should you make me one. He—” I gestured to the dead high priest on the ground. “—made me his enemy. I offered him more chances than you offered me.”
I took a step forward as soon as I touched the ground, and the dozens of people with magic that could probably kill me if they all worked together backed away. “I came here to rid this town of a great evil. And I failed. The leader, someone who’s spent decades fooling everyone, ran away further south.
“I don’t expect you to believe me. I expect you to go into this city and believe them.” I crooked a thumb back to where many of the townsfolk were watching from the fringes. I couldn’t bear to look at them. “Honestly, I’m not sure you’ll do that. I don’t think you’d believe it if you could see my own damn memories. So either get your heads out of your asses and look at the reality in front of you, or fuck right off back the way you came.”
I hissed out a small jet of flame, then continued, “I don’t want a war with the Church. I’ve made that much damn clear. But I’m not going to sit here and get pushed around just because I’m willing to concede points and compromise.” I took another step forward and smiled dangerously, showing all my teeth. “Got it?”
One of them grew enough of a spine to speak “You won’t—”
“What?” I snapped. “Get away with this? Do you say that to everyone you attack for no reason who successfully defends themselves? An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind—and if I recall that’s part of your teachings.
“What.” I took another step forward, snow hissing under my feet as it sublimated.
“Did.” Another step, and everyone but the frontrunner backed off.
“I.” I got into their face.
“Do.” I leaned down, getting eye-to-eye with a young man who looked very much like he regretted speaking up.
“Wrong?”
The man shivered. “D-demon…”
“Yes.” I hissed. “And?”
“Y-you killed High Priest Grants!”
“He tried to kill me. More than that—did I egg him on? Did I threaten him?”
The young man gulped, and I saw sweat beading on his brow.
“Leave him alone!” someone shouted.
I felt a lance of white-hot pain tear through my shoulder. For a moment, my vision flashed red, and I wanted to wipe this whole group out. But I restrained myself to a growl. They didn’t deserve death necessarily. Already, the holy magic was being burned out by my own, and I realized that I’d already shrugged off what Grants had done to me. Mostly, I was mad about another new tear in my outfit.
So instead, I gritted my teeth together and backed off, all four arms crossed as my wings faded away. “Fine.”
“You won’t—huh?” the voice stuttered, and I noticed it belonged to a woman about the young man’s age who stood near the middle of the group. At her bravery, I now had half a dozen people readying to attack me.
The wind I felt rushing from behind me was a comfort I didn’t know I needed, and the chill it brought served to cool my anger. “I won’t what?” I raised an eyebrow and took a step back. “Get away with browbeating someone who wanted to kill me? Sorry, but you’ve made the wrath demon angry. Have you even been listening!?”
“I…” the woman faltered.
“I listened,” the young man said quietly. “But I’ll never forgive you. And I don’t believe you either. You’re playing some sort of game with us.”
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness. As far as whether I’m playing a game? Yeah, I am. It’s called ‘the demon can marry the woman she loves and live in Dhias-damned peace’ and let me tell you, it is a very difficult game. A lot of the time I feel like the other side keeps ignoring both the rules and my moves.”
For a brief moment, I got to relish the look of sheer confusion writ across many of the faces in front of me, before another shout broke into the scene.
“Miss Miller!” the same voice that had shouted “wait” earlier called out, this time out of breath.
I looked in that direction, and only then did I notice another group of people, and their battered, regal-looking carriage, as they approached from the tree-covered road out onto the field. The people, that is, not the carriage. That stayed behind, leaning a little from damaged suspension.
The group consisted of five people, four of which were Edathan royal guards. Seyari and Kartania were already half-turned their way. I must not have noticed them with how focused I’d been on the Church forces.
“I… huff… suggest you people refrain from attacking Edathan nobility again.” The non-guard man, dressed in fine winter clothing of primarily Edathan blue, pulled close enough that he didn’t have to shout and stopped with a grateful slouch. “As you… pant… doubtless know, King Carvalon has rescinded Church authority over any such matters. And Marchioness Miller here does not count as an exception despite her… unusual complexion.”
What?
As the finely-dressed man panted, he caught all of us staring. “By royal decree, for her work to save the March of Astrye from an insidious cult, Zarenna Miller has been granted the title of Marchioness by King Carvalon. We were sent south to observe her progress, and present her with the title contingent upon her performance regarding this task.”
“She killed the high priest!” someone shouted.
“She defended herself!” Seyari fired back.
“While I cannot claim to be neutral in the matter,” Kartania said, moving to address all present, “I can say, on my authority as a paladin of Dhias, that Zarenna Miller is no criminal, and her actions here today were in self-defense and nothing more.”
The well-dressed man, his composure now mostly-recovered, straightened. “King Carvalon recognizes the authority of Paladin Kartania Miller, and upon my authority as an acting agent, Zarenna Miller is hereby cleared of any wrongdoing.”
The Church forces tensed, and the royal guard did as well. I stayed silent, for fear my words might spark this issue. It absolutely was not because my mind was stuck processing the fact that I’d become Edathan nobility as of a minute prior.
But.
Well…
I turned to finally look at the people of Astrye who’d gathered to watch. Among them, I spotted Razz, Brynna, and Keran. None of them were smiling—all wore serious looks. The conversation had carried enough for them to hear. I knew it had.
I wasn’t going to get an ovation, or even full acceptance. Me as marchioness wasn’t a perfect solution; a perfect solution didn’t exist. I’d have thought more about it, but Seyari bumped my shoulder and I realized I really did need to say something.
So I took a deep breath. “I believe… that the events of today were the result of an unfortunate misunderstanding. As Marchioness, I am willing to overlook this incident with the understanding that both parties had reasonable reason to suspect mental influence, that information was limited, and that tensions were high.”
The well-dressed man nodded and spoke before anyone else. “And it is truly terrible that High Priest Grants suffered such an accident.” He looked at the High Priest’s corpse, neck broken but without signs of battle.
Immediately, a furor rose through the Church forces, but for the moment no one stepped forward. Next to me, Kartania tensed. Seyari fixed me with a look that said “let it go.” I shook my head, and she sighed, though her eyes twinkled.
“What accident?” I said in a measured voice, taking a step toward the well-dressed man.
As if finally realizing the height difference and what I was, he stepped back. Though he did mouth “what are you doing?” and I felt his anger spike. I swiftly drained it—no more problems, please.
I’m not going to lie. That’ll only hurt me later—and there will be a later. “High Priest Grants, acting within his judgment and without critical information, attacked me. I defended myself, and slew him in combat. His body has not been desecrated, and I will ensure that it is returned for a full burial.”
Despite the chill air, sweat beaded the well-dressed man’s brow and his eyes darted from me to the royal guards, then the Church forces, and back. “O-of course, Marchioness Miller.”
I smiled, showing sharp teeth, and turned to the Church forces. “There. You have your answer. I am not without mercy, but make no mistake. If you return seeking vengeance, personal or otherwise, I will respond to violence in kind.”
Murmurs swept through the crowd, including the far-off townsfolk. Doubtless, the lupaels who heard the conversation were telling the others. The townsfolk were too far to sense anger, and the Church forces were still radiating enough of it that it was a wonder the snow around them wasn’t melting.
I wanted some of their fury, but on the list of plans that could horribly backfire, messing with the mental faculties of Church forces was near the top. Too bad me bringing up that I had this kind of immense restraint wouldn’t help at all.
Eventually the standoff ended when the same Church member I’d yelled at stepped forward. He must have been second in command. “Then we will take the fugitive Yothariel, the soon-to-be-ex paladin Kartania, and be gone.”
“You will do no such thing. They are under my protection.”
“You have no right!”
“She does,” the well-dressed man insisted.
“Is Yothariel a citizen of Edath?” the Church man fired back.
This time, the well-dressed man faltered.
“You may keep Kartania Miller, demon, but we are taking Yothariel.”
Now it was Seyari’s turn. She didn’t step forward, rather stood with her head held high and her good hand cradling her stump. “I am not a citizen of Edath. Not yet.” She looked over at me. “Zarenna?”
What she was planning took me a second, and when I realized, my eyes went wide. “Sey…”
The others present had the good sense to remain silent, and we stared at each other for a long moment.
My sister stepped forward, her expression hard. “Am I not still a Paladin of Dhias?”
“Of course not! You’ve consorted with demons!”
Rather than cut him off, Kartania let the man finish. “May I have your name?” she asked.
The man faltered, glaring at my sister for a moment before answering. “Cedric. Priest Cedric.”
“Very well then, Cedric. Do you have the authority to demote or excommunicate me?”
“This is insane! You’re standing alongside a demon!”
“A demon who seems to have more integrity than members of my own order of late. But I digress; I do not recall High Priest Grants giving an explicit order to annul my position.”
“He clearly said so!”
“He said he would. He implied it.”
“So what?!” Cedric yelled, clenching his fists.
“So I have all the rights granted to me as a Paladin of Dhias.”
For a second, silence reigned over far-off murmurs. Then Cedric’s eyes widened. “You can’t…”
Only when Cedric said it did I realize what Kartania was implying. She can marry us, but only if…
Kartania cocked her head toward the king’s representative. “Do you approve?”
The man nodded solemnly. “I do.”
No hesitation marrying a part-angel to a demon then. Either he trusts Carvalon implicitly, or he really hates the Church. Maybe both.
“Very well then.” My sister’s mirthless smile warmed as she turned to Seyari and me. “I know this is sudden, you two. But are you ready?”
My mind froze for a moment. I had so much I wanted to say, but I hadn’t practiced. I was wearing my Dhias-damned company uniform, and Sey was in traveling clothes, and I hadn’t prepared, and we had no guests, and—
Sey silenced my thoughts with a quick kiss to my neck. “I’d kiss higher, but I don’t feel like climbing,” she said softly. “We can have a ceremony later, Renna.”
I gulped. “Yeah…”
“I won’t allow this!” Cedric shouted, but he made no move to attack.
I glared at him and he shrank away.
“Stay out of this,” Kartania snapped, half-turning her head back toward the Church forces. By now, half of their number looked decidedly unsure. My sister didn’t need to voice a threat, and she turned her gaze back to us. “Let’s begin.”
MadMaxine
It's happening!
If you want to read more, my Patreon's ten weeks ahead of public posting! There are also a few side and short stories!
Also, consider checking out my other story, Scales & Shadows.
If you want to chat about the story or just hang out, my discord is open to all!
