In the middle of the night. Nekeya awoke and wandered out of the hall and through the pub districts lost. She had remembered something in a dream, or was it a nightmare? She didn't know, but it made her feel sick and in dire need of a drink.
She stumbled into a tavern called The Jagged Hag, a place where the food is piss poor and any intended company is even poorer.
The tavern smelt of urine, mold, and rotting wood. The walls made it seem like it had been around for ages.
And in the center of this tavern was nothing but a bunch of loud and ignorant patrons who looked like low tier adventurers in Nekeya's mind.
The drunks kept talking, laughing, and screaming as the night went on.
Their voices blurred together—slurred, smug, and overly stupid.
Drunk #1: "Can you believe our luck? A red gate in the middle of the capital!"
Drunk #2: "I know, it honestly didn't seem real. Thankfully there wasn't any casualties."
Drunk #3: "Yeah, but where in the hell was the guild? Are the nobles the only people they care to protect? And then those damn demons."
Nekeya's grip tightened around the mug.
Drunk #3 kept up his rant, "Why the hell won't those things just stay dead? You would think the mindless beast would run scared considering we had one of the holy knights around. But I guess animals like that don't have the brain power to understand fear."
Nekeya couldn't help but think out loud, "Why is it that these pigs believe they can judge anyone about anything? They know nothing of my people or why they come here."
She saw it again—the screams of her people. The horror. The mutilation. The corruption that twisted their bodies. Demon children twisted into weapons. Elders branded with horrors they didn't understand. Her sister's voice, begging. Her mother's silence, already gone.
She had relived it in dreams.
She had buried it deep in her head.
But tonight, it clawed its way back.
Her chest began to tighten and the insignia began to glow as her body ran hotter than the surface of the sun.
She didn't turn toward the drunks.
She didn't want to, from fear she might kill one of them.
They weren't the enemy.
They were the echo of the enemy.
She had come to this forsaken land for one reason. That reason was to find someone like Tamura.
His presence. His power had called to her like a beacon. Not because he was kind. Not because he was good.
Because he was capable.
She needed someone with infernal blood to help bring her people back to their former glory.
One strong enough to cull the herd.
To unmake the corruption.
To save what few intelligent infernal lives remained. There was nothing in her mission that said she had to keep a few lowly brutes alive to do that.
She took a slow breath.
The mug cracked in her hand.
She let it fall.
The drunks didn't notice.
But they would soon wish they did.
---
The night went on with Nekeya silently listening to the rants of drunkards and their opinions of her kind and the guild only grew more spiteful. The loud noises finally seemed distant as the three men exited the tavern. Nekeya decided to follow.
The alley was narrow, damp with runoff, lit only by the flicker of a dying lantern.
Nekeya walked with quiet steps, her head held down, and her dress scraping across the stone.
The drunks turned their attention after noticing her shadow along the walls.
Drunk #1 spoke with a sadistic grin across his face, "Hey, look who it is. I remember you! You're that quiet girl from the Hag. What's wrong, need some strong adventurers like us for something? Or were you hoping for some alone time with me?"
Drunk #2 took a closer look at the girl and noticed something rather interesting, "Hang on, that girl...she's with the guild! I know that crest!"
Drunk #3 seemed to get upset, "Just when we thought the filthy demons were bad enough, crest means she owes us. Our taxes pay for her guild's foolishness."
Nekeya didn't look up. Nor did she speak.
Drunk #1: Where you headed, sweetheart? Don't you got a minute to care for your people?
Drunk #2: Or maybe just a favor. Least you could do for the nation's adventures that actually care about the common folk.
She stopped walking towards them.
Slowly, the flame inside her chest stirred.
Not in a panic, but as if her mana was waiting on permission to be released.
She finally looked up.
Her eyes glowed faintly— a bright amber threaded with violet.
Nekeya spoke calmly, "I'm sorry but, I am not from this land gentlemen."
They laughed.
Drunk #3 spoke up. "Then you're not protected."
She stepped forward with a smile growing subtly across her face. "You're absolutely right. And neither are you."
The Phoenix insignia began to glow on her shoulder. The air thickened. The stone beneath her feet cracked.
One of them reached for her.
She didn't move or even blink.
With one kick to his torso, the other two drunks watched in horror as drunk #1's spine seemed to fly from his back.
A pulse of flame ripped through his chest. No scream, as the rest of him began to wither away into ash.
The others froze.
Nekeya spoke from behind them. "You mistook me for your property. That was your first mistake."
She raised her hand.
The flame curled around her fingers like a crown.
"Your other two, were touching me and insulting my people."
The alley lit up.
Then went dark.
"Finally, I can breathe again."
---
Dawn fell upon the quiet capital and Nekeya dragged herself through the guild's courtyard. Tamura was waiting up, staring down at her from their room's window.
She was finally back.
But not here.
He felt the urge rise, he wanted to go to her, ask, demand to know where she was at. But then he remembered Kael's voice. Aylin's silence. The way they left, and how him being upset only seemed to only push them further into leaving.
He wouldn't make the same mistake.
Not with Nekeya.
He turned from the window and tried to go back to bed.
Tamura thought to himself as he lay facing the wall, "She needs space. I'll show her support and focus on myself."
He sprung up from the bed and walked to the desk, pulled out the map. The boy's trail was cold, but not gone. Somewhere in one of these villages... Tamura's biggest threat was resting up for a rematch.
"I'll find him. I'll get stronger. And when Nekeya comes back to me—she'll know I didn't leave."
He stared at the mark on his shoulder.
It didn't burn for once.
---
Inside a dim cabin, deep within rougewater village, the boy lies on a cot, bandaged, weak. The air smells of smoke and pine. No windows. Just walls.
He woke slowly.
The ceiling was wood—rough, splintered, and unfamiliar. The air was cold. His body ached.
He sat up, breath shallow.
No chains or endless screams from mindless infernals. Just silence.
He didn't remember arriving. Only the fight. Tamura's flame. The moment before impact—and then nothing.
He stood, legs trembling, and moved to the door.
Locked.
Of course.
He turned, scanning the room. A table. A blade. A map with no names. Symbols he didn't recognize.
"Where am I?"
He touched his chest. He couldn't believe that he was free. He could finally breathe again.
But before he could get used to his new surroundings, a noise came from the room ahead of him. A creak.
The boy prepared for whatever came to meet him even if he was injured.
"I'm not dying here when I just attained freedom."
---