Ava stared at the man's hand. It was calloused, scarred by sparks, and stained with the soot of a hard day's work and a forge, yet it held the warmth with a gentleness she had never witnessed in the pits of Inferna. In her realm, hands were for clutching hilts or crushing throats. This was... different.
"He refused my payment," Ava said, her voice still shaking with suppressed power that made the very air around her hum. She felt the Void Diamond in her palm—a stone that could buy an empire—and felt an alien sense of humiliation.
He looked at the "glass" gem in her hand and chuckled. It was a deep, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in the air between them. "I'm not surprised," he said, wiping a stray bit of charcoal from his forehead. "I'll admit, it's a pretty rock, but we don't see many... uh... giant purple rocks in Oakhaven.You can't exactly eat a crystal, no matter how much it glows."
"Here."
He turned to the baker with a familiar nod. "I'm not surprised Miller's being a grump. He hasn't had his morning ale yet."
The man reached into a small leather pouch at his waist and tossed three small, dented copper coins onto the counter. "Two buns, Miller. One for me, and one for the lady. Put the change toward your next pint."
The baker grumbled, his eyes darting suspiciously between the "penniless" girl and the village blacksmith, but he didn't dare argue with him . He handed over the pastries, wrapped in thin grease-stained parchment.
The man took them, the heat radiating through the paper, and handed the warmest one toward Ava.
"It's on me," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "Welcome to the village. I'm Ethan."
Ava looked at the bun, then at the man. She felt a strange, tightening sensation in her chest—not the burn of magic, but something else.
He just 'saved' me, she thought, her fingers trembling as she took the pastry. He saved this entire village from being reduced to a funeral pyre over a piece of dough, and he doesn't even know it.
She watched the muscles in his arms move as he took a large, unbothered bite of his own bun. He stood with a relaxed posture, his weight balanced, looking at the horizon as if the world was a safe place to be. There was a quiet strength in him—not the explosive power of a demon, but the enduring strength of iron.
He doesn't even know me, she thought, the scent of honey and yeast filling her nose. And yet... he just gave me his 'money' for nothing in return. Why? What is the tribute he expects?
Ethan leaned against a wooden post, casually chewing on his honey-bun.
He looked at Ava, who was holding her pastry as if it were a high-grade magical artifact.
"So," Ethan said, his voice friendly and relaxed. "I haven't seen you around before. You new to the village?"
Ava stiffened. New to the village? She wanted to tell him she was new to this entire dimension, where the sky was suspiciously blue and the dirt didn't scream when you stepped on it.
"I... arrived recently," she said, choosing her words with the caution of someone disarming a trap.
"I figured," Ethan chuckled, gesturing to her elegant (though disguised) cloak.
"Oakhaven is a small place. Word travels fast when someone new shows up. Where are you staying? Which house is yours?"
Ava froze. House?
In Inferna, she had a palace that spanned three mountain peaks, guarded by soul-eating wraiths and floor-to-ceiling lava waterfalls. She didn't have a "house" with a thatched roof and a mailbox.
"I do not have a... house," she admitted.
Ethan's smile faltered, replaced by a look of genuine concern. "Wait, you don't have a place to stay? Did you travel all this way without a room at the inn? Or are you staying with relatives on the North Road?"
Ava looked at him blankly. "I was planning to... observe."
"Observe?" Ethan laughed, though it was a kind sound. "You can't 'observe' the stars while sleeping in the dirt. The nights get cold here, and the wolves in the woods aren't exactly friendly to travelers."
Internal Monologue: The Queen's Pride
Ava looked at his concerned face and felt a strange twitch in her chest.
Wolves? she thought, almost wanting to laugh. I have a three-headed Cerberus named 'Fluffy' who eats wolves for breakfast. I sleep in a bed of enchanted obsidian. Does this mortal truly think I am afraid of the dark?
She opened her mouth to tell him that she could create a fortress out of thin air if she felt like it, but then she remembered she is living a normal life .
If she built a demon fortress in the middle of a human forest, she'd be back on the bone-throne by dinner time, bored out of her mind.
The Lie
"I am... a traveler," Ava stammered, her face heating up. It was an unfamiliar sensation.
Was she blushing? A Demon Queen doesn't blush! "I was going to find an inn. But I seem to lack your... copper bits."
Ethan's expression softened even more. To him, she looked like a beautiful, lost girl with no money and nowhere to go.
"Tell you what," Ethan said, wiping his hands on his apron. "My forge has a small guest room in the back. It's mostly full of old coal sacks and spare iron, but it's got a bed and a lock on the door.
You're welcome to stay there until you find your feet. I'm Ethan, by the way. I run the Blacksmith shop down the lane."
Ava stared at him. A Demon Queen... sleeping in a blacksmith's shed? Surrounded by coal?
She should have been insulted. She should have turned him into a pile of salt. But then she looked at his eyes—they were so clear, so honest. There was no fear in them. No hidden agenda. Just a human offering help.
"I am Ava," she said softly.
"Well, Ava," Ethan smiled, stepping aside to lead the way. "Let's get you out of the sun before you melt. You look like you've had a long day."
A long day? Ava thought, following him. I've been here for twenty minutes and I've already almost committed mass murder and moved into a shed. This world is exhausting .
Back in the Heart of Inferna...
While the golden sun of Oakhaven warmed the back of Ava's neck, the Realm of Inferna remained draped in its eternal, jagged twilight. Inside the Great Hall, the air didn't carry the scent of honey or baking bread; it smelled of cooling lava, ozone, and the faint, metallic tang of ancient blood.
Korg and Zale stood like twin statues of obsidian at the foot of the empty bone-throne. Korg's knees were shaking so violently that his greaves made a rhythmic clink-clink-clink sound against the floor.
"Stop that," Zale hissed, his voice a jagged whisper. "You're going to alert the gargoyles."
"I can't help it!" Korg whispered back, his grip tightening on his serrated halberd. "The silence is too loud, Zale. It's been hours. What if she's not just 'on a walk'? What if she's... bored of us? What if she's found a new kingdom to rule and she's going to leave us here to deal with the Council of Elders?"
Zale shifted his weight, his own eyes darting toward the massive, arched doorways. "The Queen does not 'leave.' She conquers. She's probably just... looking for a more efficient way to set another Realm on fire. Or perhaps she's hunting a Void Serpent."
"But what if a General demands to see her?" Korg's voice rose in a pitch of pure panic.
"General Vorath is already grumbling about the border taxes. If he marches in here and sees that chair is empty, he'll think there's a weakness in the bloodline!"
Zale let out a low, guttural growl of frustration. "Then we tell him she's in a bad mood and will eat him! It's not a lie, Korg! She's always in a bad mood! If Vorath wants to risk being turned into a decorative rug, let him walk through those doors."
Korg went quiet for a moment, his mind drifting to the portal Ava had disappeared through. He had caught a single whiff of the "Other Side" before it closed—a smell that was confusingly pleasant.
"Do you think she'll actually bring back one of those 'bread' things the humans eat?" Korg whispered, his demonic curiosity getting the better of his fear. "I heard a soul-merchant say they have things called 'honey-buns.' He said they're soft. Like... biting into a cloud made of sugar."
Zale finally turned his head, his single glowing eye narrowing at his partner. "A cloud? Humans are fragile, pathetic creatures, Korg. They eat things that match their souls—soft, weak, and short-lived. Why would the Queen of the Inferna want to eat a cloud?"
"I don't know," Korg muttered, looking longingly at the spot where the portal had been. "I'm just saying... I'm tired of eating charred basalt and soul-dust. A sugar-cloud sounds nice."
"Shut up, Korg. Just stand still and look scary," Zale snapped, slamming the end of his spear against the floor for emphasis. "If the Queen hears you talking about human snacks, she'll feed your tongue to the Hell-Hounds. We have a reputation to uphold. We are the Royal Guard of the Abyss, not a welcoming committee for a bakery."
Korg straightened his back and tried to look intimidating, but his stomach gave a low, thunderous growl that echoed through the empty, silent hall.
Somewhere in the distance, a dragon roared, but for the two guards, the most terrifying thing in the world wasn't the monsters outside—it was the mystery of what their Queen was doing in a world that smelled like sunshine.