The next morning they were back on the road, the demon kingdom now only a few days away. Before they could reach it, however, Lucian needed to meet a smuggler in a larger town that lay just before the checkpoints, but still hidden within demon borders.
They moved with greater speed than the day before, the strength of a proper meal carrying them forward. Nina walked closer now, though she maintained a careful distance, as if unsure how near she was allowed to be.
Questions pressed at the edges of Lucian's thoughts. Was she one of the children stolen from the human kingdom he heard about in Parlin? Why had she been taken? Why were the chains still clinging to her wrists?How'd she get free? He almost asked, but held his tongue. He already knew silence would be his only answer. For now, her name was enough.
The sudden clatter of many hooves against the road made Lucian halt in his tracks. Why would riders be out here? he wondered.
As the bend in the path opened, a banner came into view, one he knew all too well. The church's emblem from his homeland rippled in the wind.
"Tch." Lucian clicked his tongue, his voice low and sharp. "Nina, stay behind me. Do exactly as I do."
They moved to the roadside. Lucian inclined his head in a subtle bow and pulled his hood over his face while making a slight symbol with his fingers, his posture calm, practiced. Nina hesitated, then mimicked his movements, her chains glinting faintly in the mid noon light.
The riders drew closer. The lead man slowed, suspicion already furrowing his brow.
"Halt!" he barked. At once the thunder of hooves ceased, the metallic rattle of armor and swords settling into silence.
Lucian kept his gaze fixed on the dirt as the shadow of a mounted knight loomed over him.
"A follower of the Light?" the man's voice carried authority, cutting through the quiet. "What business brings you to this lawless stretch of land?"
Lucian peaked up without showing too much of his face. The knight sat tall in polished silver plate, a sun-etched sword emblazoned across his chest, the symbol of the church. Glacier-blue eyes, hardened by experience yet set in a face no older than Lucian's as it studied him with piercing scrutiny.
"I could ask you the same," Lucian said calmly.
"How dare an insolent worm—" one of the knights behind him barked, but the leader cut him off with a raised hand.
"Pardon me, I neglected to introduce myself. Mark Valebright, third bishop of the Church of Light. Which, judging by your courteous bow and the hand symbol just now, I assume you're familiar with." He shifted in his saddle, angling his body so the gleam of his sword caught Lucian's eye. "We're on a mission to find a man. Someone by the name of Edric Bloodthrone. I'm sure you've heard of him, have seen him or anything that could relate to him?"
Lucian's finger twitched at the sound of his true name, the one he thought had died with the Ashen Dawn. Edric Bloodthrone… He forced his expression steady. "No, I'm afraid I haven't. Isn't he dead?"
"We're not sure," Mark replied evenly. "Last I heard, he was dead."
Lucian's lips tightened. "So the Church hunts corpses now, instead of helping the widowed families left behind by the war?" His words carried a quiet sting.
"How dare you!" one knight barked.
"I should strike you down where you stand, and that filthy demon slave beside you!" another spat.
"SILENCE!" Mark's voice cracked like a whip, silencing them instantly. He exhaled, then continued more calmly. "Forgive them. They're young, fresh Holy Knights and demon hunters still in training. Their manners have yet to be refined." His glacier eyes shifted to Nina, narrowing. "Though… they are not entirely wrong. For a follower of the Light such as yourself, it is forbidden to consort with demons, let alone keep one as a slave."
Lucian let his gaze linger on Nina for a moment realizing why they thought she was a demon before turning back to Mark, his voice steady, deliberate. "She isn't a demon. And she isn't a slave." He paused, the weight of his next words calculated. "She is my daughter."
Nina's head snapped up at him, her eyes wide for just a breath before she schooled her features into a neutral mask, aware of Mark's scrutiny.
"I see. My apologies," Mark said evenly, catching her glowing blue eyes.
"If there's nothing else, we'll be on our way." Lucian turned to leave. Nina clung closer to him than ever.
"Wait," Mark called.
Lucian wrapped Soulflame around his fist and hide it behind his back as he turned around.
"Take this." Mark tossed a small canister toward him. "Healing balm, for your little girl." He gave a faint smile. "May the Light be with you."
Lucian caught it and gave a slight bow. "And may it cleanse the darkness." Then he turned and left.
Mark watched them fade into the distance.
"Your Grace, why were you so respectful to such an arrogant man?" one of the Holy Knights asked, confusion edging his tone.
"Is it not the way of the Church to show kindness to all believers of the Light, even those who speak with little courtesy?" Mark replied evenly. His gaze lingered on the road ahead. "Besides… I truly believe, had we angered that man, none of us would be alive right now." His eyes narrowed slightly at the spot Lucian had been standing in.
The knight frowned. "What do you mean, Your Grace? He seemed little more than a commoner with no strength and his eyes were grey, not blue. He carried no soul flame. How could he overpower even our weakest knight?" His words dripped with arrogance.
Mark nudged his horse into a slow stride, and the column followed. "You've never been to war," he said flatly. "So I do not blame your ignorance. But deep endless eyes like his… you only earn those after surviving countless encounters with death."
The knight pressed further. "But what if they were demons? We've cut down every demon we've come across so far. Why spare them?"
"They were not demons," Mark answered with certainty, motioning for the group to keep moving. "Tell me, what demon bows its head to passing Holy Knights? What demon knows the proper response to the Church's creed? And the girl, her eyes were bluer than half of everyone here." He gave a soft scoff.
"Then why was she in chains, Your Grace?" the knight asked again.
"Enough," Mark snapped, annoyance breaking through his calm veneer.
The knight immediately lowered his head, shoulders shrinking beneath the weight of his armor. "Forgive me, Your Grace."
Mark sighed, letting the tension fall away. "I'm not sure why either. But this is a lawless land. Who can say what those two have endured?" His tone softened as he glanced back at the knight, offering a faint, reassuring smile. "Come now. Let's finish scouting this vermin-ridden stretch of wasteland and hurry home. I imagine Veronica misses her newly wedded husband dearly."
A flush spread unseen beneath the knight's helm. "You jest, Your Grace."
Mark's lips tugged into the faintest smirk. "Perhaps."
Lucian and Nina reached the town where they were to meet the smuggler a few hours after their brush with Bishop Mark.
"Come here. Hold out your arm," Lucian said quietly. From his pack he drew a pouch of finely ground black powder. He plucked a pebble from the dirt, rolled it through the dust, and pressed his soulflame into it until it melted into a dark, runny liquid. With steady precision, he traced a sigil onto Nina's forearm, the mark of a demon, a sideways infinity symbol.
———-
Every demon had this mark, a curse from the goddesses of light to separate her children, humans, from the abominations that call themselves demons. Or so the history books say…
A common demon is easy to spot although humanoid in appearance there's always a different characteristic about them that makes them clearly stand out. Most common ones being a darker blue or reddish skin tone, horns, a tail, and sharp teeth. Nobble demons however look exactly like humans, the only difference is their life span and the demon mark. The ones with their soulflame awakened, typically the stronger noble families and the royal bloodline, all have crimson eyes however. Not typically a dead give away for demon hunters but a good starting spot as not many humans are born with red eyes. Vice Versa, not many demons are born with blue eyes, the typical indicator that a human has awakened their soulflame.
——-
She flinched at the sting, but the pain faded quickly. Lucian repeated the ritual on his own arm, mirroring the mark.
"It shouldn't disappear for at least three days," he told her calmly as he brushed the residue from his hands. "Not even with water."
They stepped into the town, where the streets hummed with life. Demons bustled past, each wrapped in their own world. Unlike beastmen, demons bore no animal traits and rather more closely resembled humans. However, like beastmen they preferred to nurture the land and gather in large groups amongst themselves. So very rarely would you ever see just one demon by themselves.
Amid the press of bodies, Lucian and Nina blended in well enough, their new sigils doing their work, though Nina's strange attire drew the occasional curious glance. Lucian unfolded the map Slivar had given him, studied the route, then tucked it back into his bag.
As they moved toward the marked destination, he noticed the looks lingering on Nina. Causing her small fingers to grab onto the fabric of his shirt, clinging tighter as the crowd closed around them.
Lucian glanced down at her. "I suppose we should get you cleaned up, huh?" he murmured, not expecting a reply.
They searched the streets for a public bathhouse, and though Lucian said nothing, he was grateful when they found one. Three days on the road had left him grimy, the sweat and dust clinging to his skin. He hated to admit it, but he'd grown accustomed to the daily baths he'd taken while staying with Amira.
Lucian finished quickly, scrubbing the dirt from his skin before stepping out. When he checked on Nina, she was still seated, patiently working through the knots in her hair. Deciding not to rush her, he left to search the town for clothes she could wear.
It took several shops before he found something suitable, a simple blue tunic that draped easily over a pair of loose brown trousers, paired with a fresh set of sandals. Modest, but practical.
Things are rather expensive here, he thought, weighing the pouch that carried his soulstones. I always figured it would be cheap and unrefined considering the stories I've heard from others. But it seems to be quite the opposite.
With that resolve, Lucian turned back toward the bathhouse, the bundle of clothes tucked under his arm.
"Nina," Lucian called softly, setting a folded bundle in front of the bamboo door. "Here's a fresh set of clothes, and the healing balm from that knight. Make sure you use some before you get dressed."
He stepped back into the hallway and leaned against the wall to wait. Children darted past him, tails flicking water in every direction, shrieking with laughter as they scampered unclothed through the steamy halls, their parents in playful pursuit. Though the adults scolded and threatened punishment, their eyes betrayed them, bright with joy, brimming with life. For a moment, the air felt lighter and a thought crossed Lucian's mind as he rubbed the black ribbon Amira gave him on his wrist.
Minutes passed before the bamboo door slid open. Nina stepped out, her hair still damp, strands dripping onto the collar of her new tunic. For a heartbeat Lucian almost didn't recognize her.
Her blue eyes shone brighter now, framed by the faint flush of her cheeks. The deep indigo of the tunic set off the softness of her features, contrasting against the long fall of her brown hair. The loose trousers and simple sandals completed the look, plain, but fitting.
Here's a smoother, more flowing version:
Lucian crouched beside her and slipped the black fabric from his wrist. With gentle hands, he gathered her damp hair, twisting it into a small, neat bun the way he remembered Amira doing it. His fingers weren't as practiced, but the gesture was full of quiet care.
As he tied it, he spoke softly. "A very special lady gave this to me. She said it was a charm of protection. I knew she'd left a trace of her soulflame on it so she could track me… yet somehow, it still made me feel safe. I hope it brings you that same sense of security."
He smiled as he finished, the knot secure.
Nina looked at him with curious eyes.
"Who would've thought," Lucian teased lightly, "that under all that grime was a beautiful young lady."
Nina's lips curled into the faintest smile. It was small and fleeting, but enough to stir a different warmth in Lucian's chest than the one Amira gave him. Without meaning to, he found himself smiling back.
"Hold out your hands," he said gently.
Nina threw them up with a sudden playfulness, wiggling her fingers as though expecting a trick. Lucian chuckled under his breath, then took her wrist in his hand. A faint glow of soulflame flickered at his fingertips as he pressed against the iron cuff. The metal split with a soft snap. He repeated the act on the other wrist until both restraints clattered to the floor.
When they stepped out into the street again, both looked renewed, clean, presentable, and free of the grime of the road. The stares that once followed Nina seemed to fade, though she still clung to the tail of Lucian's shirt as they made their way toward the smuggler.