Dawn crept through the curtains of a small window. My body is still sluggish after being drugged. Next to me was Poppy. She sat slumped with a peaceful expression on her face. Drool trailed out from the corner of her soft-looking lips. I shifted my arm slightly, and her long, pointed ears twitched. Her eyes shot open. She looked around in a slight daze until her eyes narrowed onto me. She stood up from the small stool she sat on and bowed.
"Morning, Young Master. I hope you are feeling better." She hid a yawn behind her sleeve.
"Morning…" I said in a flat tone. Poppy was a servant of Korne, the man who played me like a fool. It was not just me; Adrian, too, had been used by Korne. If he was willing to use a royal candidate for his games, who was to say that he was not gonna use her?
Poopy's round eyes peered into mine, and she took another bow. "Please forgive the Master's actions yesterday."
"Why should I?" I kept as calm as I could, though my blood boiled. Poppy was not the target of my anger. "He knocked me out, interrogated me, and then drugged me. My anger is justified at this point."
"As that may be," she lifted her head, "he had his reasons." Her eyes glowed as if standing by the actions of Korne. "You are our hope. Though the methods are rather crude, he only wants to forge you into something better." She said, pressing her face into mine.
There was a level of loyalty towards a person that would leave them blind to the world. I know, as I once did the same.
"I thought you had no idea what he was planning?" I said as I pushed her away. She felt lighter than I thought.
"I lied." Again? I thought as she kept her eyes glued to mine. Her ears drooped down a little as a frown lined her lips. "I do not take pride in it. But it was necessary to determine whether or not you were the creature feared by the old deities, or a demon. Turns out Korne's prediction was wrong."
I had a hard time figuring out whether what she said was a good thing or not. When Korne first met me at the river's edge that day, did he see through me? Had he really thought I was not a demon despite the God Stamp markings on my body? Had Velantra messed up? Or had she been ignorant of the world's ability to see through simple tricks?
"Velantra." Poppy's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Her ears twitched. "There was a slight change in your heartbeat, Young Master." I could not help but notice her say 'Young Master' in a saddened tone.
"Do you know her?"
"I know of her. A genius beyond a shadow of a doubt. But her plan to fully disguise you as a demon failed at two points." She then pointed at the top of her head. "Male demons have horns. While they can use illusion spells to hide them from view, they would still be there physically. That cloth shirt you are wearing was made to fit any male with a simple-sized head; if you had horns, then you would have struggled. The second would be the name you've chosen, Judas Vaelshade. Anyone who has looked into demon history would know that Velantra is the last of her bloodline."
Having her spell out how the plan failed made a lot of sense. But despite that, I had tricked Adrian, though with the help of Korne. However, more importantly, "She's the last?" I asked. I had never really gotten to know Velantra, nor had I really wanted to. Her annoying, belittling personality was a bit of a turnoff, along with the blatant lies she would tell regarding her reasoning for helping me.
"When the old deities fell. Her family, along with the other close worshipers of the deities, ventured out to investigate. But as we know today, none of those who went ever came back. Branded as heretics, they were smitten by the newer deities. Their legacy will forever be stained as the ones who dared to kill the one who watched over all. Any soul with reason would know this to be a lie, yet the people of the world believe it. All priests and priestesses of the old deities have been shunned and shamed. Most have gone into hiding while trying to investigate the truth."
Poppy spoke with her voice trailing off towards the end. She moved towards the window as her ears twitched and then drooped down. She pulled back the curtains, flooding the room with natural light. I followed and stood next to her. She grabbed my hand while looking out at the town's inhabitants with a frown. Her hand held mine with a tight grip.
A convoy of trucks moved down a large street. They moved slowly, with elves and beastmen gathering around. They shouted cheers while thrusting their fists full of money into the air. Behind the trucks were cages being pulled along.
In the cages, women and children sat crammed together, bound with chains. They were dressed in rags, their feet touching the rusty cage floor. Some pressed their faces against the bars, shouting desperate pleas that were drowned out by the purposeful revving of engines. Others sat with their faces stained with tears. While a few just stared at the ground as if their souls had left their bodies, leaving behind a husk ready to accept their fate without resistance.
"Things weren't always this way." Poppy continued. "Things before were much peaceful. Elves stuck to the forests, dwarves in their mountains, and beastmen in their plains. Yet the moment you humans descended, the balance of the world shifted. The harmony between the races wavered, and vile villainy, once forbidden by the old deities, now runs rampant." Poppy sighed. "Ironic, is it not? We face extinction, yet we are not fully united."
Then I felt a chill.
A figure in the last truck, cloaked with filthy rags, with tears all over. A pair of bare, bloodstained legs came out from under the cloak with a cat-like tail shooting up from behind. Their face was hidden in the shadows of their hood, yet I could feel the figure looking straight at me. They then lifted their head higher, allowing me to see up to their eyes.
My eyes locked with a pair of amber eyes of death.
The world around me began to fade. The loud trucks, Poppy's touch, the large crowd, all of it was gone. Something then gripped my heart. It squeezed tighter and tighter. The air refused to enter my body. All I could hear was the beating of my own heart, and, through a thick glass and several feet away, the breath of the slave looking at me. Her stare wasn't the dull, defeated look of the others. It was sharp. Alive. Cold. The look of a child who sat and watched you kill their parents. The look that would never forget the crime you committed.
The slave's lips moved, and I swear I could hear the words, "I found you," as clear as day.
I moved away from the window, holding my chest. That was no random glance; it was a mark that promised revenge against me.
Poppy noticed my distress and closed the curtains. "That was…no…how can a slave use magic while bound?"
"What was that?" I felt the tightness around my heart stop.
"Vengeful mark. It's a beastmen spell that converts all the user's pain, rage, and despair into a death grip that marks your soul. A conditional spell in which a target will be tracked no matter the distance." She looked at me with slight admiration. "You are quite resilient, like Master said. A normal person would have succumbed to weakness and despair."
Resilient, she says. While I would like to believe so myself, that was nothing like I had felt before. My legs were still shaking a little. I fought through countless battles where the chances of winning were slim, yet a little child alone was almost enough to rattle me to my core. The more time I spend exiled by my own people, the more I realize how one-sided this war would have been without our power armor.
A soft pressure pushed up against my arm.
Poppy had at some point wrapped herself around my arm, her warmth seeping through my cotton shirt. Her body pressed harder, steady and deliberate, like she was pulling me back. My heart slowed with her touch. The death grip I had once felt was slowly being forgotten.
Her ears twitched in sync with my heart; once they slowed down, she moved her body away from mine quickly, but I could still see a faint frown lining her lips. A frown I could never understand.
"Am I not enough?" She muttered, blushing a little. Poppy quickly turned heel and tripped. "Owww…I was doing well, too."
"Ah…ha…" I said awkwardly, looking at her. Unlike before, that fall seemed almost deliberate. She looked dejected on the ground, as if expecting something to happen afterwards. She sat there for a while, lost in thought, before standing up.
"Excuse me, Young Master," she said, regaining her composure. "I will prepare breakfast now. Please get dressed in the meantime and await my return."
Once I could tell Poppy had made enough distance from my room, I spoke in a hushed tone. "Velantra."
There was a moment of silence that felt longer than it was.
[Did you need something?] Velantra responded plainly.
"Were you not listening to any of the conversations between yesterday and today?" I asked.
[No, I told you I would be busy for a while. I don't have the time to keep monitoring you at the moment. But if I had to guess, you aren't just calling because you missed my voice.]
Her voice was low and emotionless, like a person trying to answer a phone in a crowded place.
"I would never call you because of your voice, plus I didn't—" The thought of yesterday's interrogation lingers on my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. The burn from yesterday was still on my arm, just neatly covered up in a bandage. "I missed your voice." Something I did not want to admit slipped from my tongue, and I cursed myself internally.
[Honest now, are we? But I know you did, as I could sense the racing of your heart when I answered.] That must likely be because I was anxiously waiting for her to respond, but I'll let her win this one. I need to not annoy her for the time being. [Make it snappy.]
"I thought you said the God Stamps were proof enough that I was a demon?" I said, while putting on the leather vest, that Poppy had cleaned while I was asleep.
[That should have been the case; few know that demons have horns. Those who leave hell venture with illusion magic to avoid standing out. That, however, is less important than other developments that happened. As of now, you need to lie low and avoid that Korne man as much as possible. Something about him feels wrong.]
It was hard to tell her it was too late for that.
[If that is all, I am hanging up. If you need something important, not just a reassuring check on your mental health, say my name. Bye.]
"Wait!" Of course, there was no response. What led to other developments happening? Maybe it had something to do with Korne talking about how the entire world knew my name and face. What did the others do? How were they able to speak to the people of this world?
*SLAM*
The door to my room suddenly opened with a violent slam. My body kicked into gear, and I dashed towards a blurred figure standing at the doorway. I slid low and swept at the figure's feet. They jumped, and I followed up with a quick side strike with my fists. A small ceramic bowl flew above me, spinning with its contents. My fist collided with nothing.
"Tighten."
A whisper that felt close hummed in my ears. The vest I wore let out a green glow as hard wooden roots shot out from the sides. They wrapped themselves around me and gripped me hard enough to force the air out of my lungs.
I fell to the ground, immobilized as the figure reappeared in front of me, catching the bowl just before it could fall below my chin.
"Young Master." Poppy stood holding the bowl. Her maid's skirt was higher than it was before, revealing several small daggers strapped to her thighs. "Your movements are far too slow. If you want to survive in this world, you need to improve."
She snapped the fingers on her free hand and glanced down at me with a face of disappointment. The vest's roots shriveled up and fell to the ground, freeing me from my restraints. I looked at Poppy. Who are the people of this world? Was the power gap between us always this great?