Saithorthepyro
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Chapter 41 - Interruptions III
🕑 Added 2025-04-25 04:16:11 +0000 UTCI considered the glorious temptation in front of me.
It sat in front of me, jam oozing between two thick slices of cake, glistening in the sunlight pouring in through the window. I wasn’t sure why we’d decided or even been allowed a seat at the tables by the window. For once, the staff and other patrons seemed to actually tolerate me as I resisted the sugary confection in front of me.
They’d added powdered sugar on top, the snowy dusting making my mouth water even more. Why had I ordered this? It was easily as big as a sandwich, clearly not made for a single person alone. I could under no circumstances allow myself a bite, let alone a slice, and forget the entire cake! That would be so much effort to work off.
I didn’t know what was taking Uncle Liu so long. I’d not only arrived here first, but the food had arrived before him. And tea, which I had a vague memory of enjoying. Oh, there was the cup on the table. Right, I’d finished my tea, only to be confronted by this delicious temptation. And now it was an eternity where this cake tempted me with its freshly baked, jammy, sugary temptations.
Why had I even ordered this? I knew I shouldn’t actually eat it. But even still, my fork was getting closer, and I quietly took off a little section.
The door opened, and Uncle Liu walked in.
I paused, fork in my hand. “Uncle, I thought you were bringing someone else with you today?”
“Indeed, I have Lily,” he said, holding the door open.
Tagashin. Undisguised, tails moving about as she walked through the restaurant without a care in the world as she entered, but that wasn’t the worst of it.
Uncle Liu was bowing to Tagashin.
“Oh, revered and honored ancestor, it is this humble son’s honor to witness your elegance and wisdom. Thank you for acceding to my request to meet with me and one of your lost, wayward daughters.”
My fork fell from my hands, clattering against the table as I gaped in silent horror. The kitsune my ancestor had…my mind rebelled at the thought. I’d thought of it, certainly, in quiet moments, then immediately recoiled in utter disgust. Much like it was doing right now.
“Impossible,” I said.
“Oh, great-great-great granddaughter of mine,” Tagashin said with tender somberness. “Search your heart and realize the truth.”
My body, I realized, was beginning to shake.
Uncle Liu dissolved, suddenly disintegrating into hundreds of floating flower petals that spread throughout the air, and Tagashin’s face broke into a grin.
Then she also dissolved into petals as my hoof connected with her midsection.
***
My eyes opened up, the side of my face warm as the rays of the sun came in through my window. Outside, I could hear the hustle and bustle of the day, the sound of people talking and walking, and the occasional whinny of a horse, no longer just an alternative meat source inside the Quarter.
“Oh,” I said, looking around the room.
A dream. One far less horrifying than those I’d been having recently. Just a normal nightmare based on a slim but potential possibility. I breathed out, a laugh of relief threatening to come out of me. Compared to everything else, Tagashin being my ancestor seemed a faint concern. Honestly, a more restful dream than any of the previous ones I’d had.
The sun was shining brightly in through the window. Shite, I’d slept through most of the morning. The sun was obscured by the edge of a window, but it was the top one that was hidden partially behind. I should get out before more time ticks by. Easier said than done.
The single layer of blankets was far fluffier and thicker than necessary, and now that comforting warmth was making me want to just burrow deeper. Sleep and let the troubles of the day never be addressed. It was already ten in the morning. If something dramatic was going to happen, it would have happened while I was asleep.
Right, because logic would follow the patterns of books I should stop reading already. I sighed, stretching under the covers, feeling the aches that still dotted my body from across my face down to my hooves and all along my tail. My tail reached up, trying to pull the blanket over my head.
Signing, I grabbed it. Right. One of the consequences of last night. After getting some rest, those memories were coming back, and I was pretty certain I’d be paying for a lot of the decisions made.
Okay, worry later, get up first. I got out of bed, ignoring nagging aches as I moved into my kitchen and dining room. I’d left the tea cups out, and I scooped them up as I moved to my sink.
The water would be chilly, but I was going to freshen up before I took a look at the face I’d been wearing most of yesterday. The small little aches and pains across it after I’d woken up didn’t herald anything good.
The cold water stung my face, but I didn’t flinch as the freezing water covered it. I should just be grateful that the water hadn’t frozen in the pipes.
I winced as I beheld my face, then winced again at what the first did to the creature inhabiting my mirror. Swollen flesh, cuts that still haven’t healed. That was in fact a twig that had been caught in my hair. I sighed as I pulled it out, turning a critical eye to my long tresses. I should have cut these long before now, but I never did. Maybe just because brushing reminded me of better times when my mother had-no. Enough sentimentality. Perhaps no cutting, but no more getting lost in the past!
Dark, heavy circles under the eyes. Bite marks on my swollen lip. I’d looked like this for how long yesterday?
Maybe it was a moment of vanity, but I could not go out like this as I placed a hand on my forehead.
Biosculpting to close the cuts, make the bruises turn into unblemished skin, and the dark circles under my eyes fade away. There, good as new. I could still feel the ache, and the pain was muted, not fully blocked. I could prod my body into healing then faster, spend more of the energy I consumed, and that would have to suffice. Energy spent on this as well, but being presentable was important.
While I finished up with my face, I turned my attention to my tail, feeling out the damage my attempted fix had caused.
Yes, in my desperate attempts to fix my limb, I’d messed up the nerves. Thankfully, not beyond belief, but not how I liked it. Something I was familiar with and could undo. When I had time. Until then, I’d deal with these messed-up connections. I hadn’t been a complete idiot, I’d managed to heal my flesh in a way I was familiar with. Some Infernals had their tails operate more in the instinct and the subconscious than actual direct control. Not really a mind of its own, more the appearance of it while acting out in impulses. Biologically impossible, but from the texts I’d studied, scientists had long given up on finding out what had caused it. About the same time, some actual uproar occurred over where they were getting Infernal brains to experiment with.
It probably didn’t reflect on my actual thoughts and consciousness too much, and I didn’t really have time. Properly reconnecting my nerves would mean hours of careful work. Going to my body’s default state carried too much risk of potentially restoring the damage. I’d gotten lucky as is, not messing up my nerves horribly and actually healing most of the external damage. The internal was on the mend, and there were bits of pain as my tail moved about, but it would heal.
I was missing something. Commentary, which I’d normally expect for that brief moment of needed vanity in treating my face.
“Imp?” I said to the open air.
No response. A little concerning. Not that I expected anything had actually happened to the little devil. No, it likely still sulked over the events of the last couple of day, sufficiently that it hadn’t bothered to mock any of last night. Better to appease that sooner rather than later. It could be added to the list of things that needed to go there, including finally testing the samples from the crime scenes and reading the papers I’d stolen from Donald Tyler’s house.
That and the list of supposed priests practicing diabolism. I grabbed that, ready to give it another look while I puzzled out how to confirm these as correct. I’d made it through half the list when a noise interrupted me.
Muffled yelling from down below, faint enough that most people shouldn’t hear it. Right, that had also happened.
Last night had been….interesting. Time to go deal with another consequence of it.
The cell door answered one question. Cracked open, Alice’s muffled screams were able to escape the usually sound-dampening room thanks to the few inches between door and wall. I must have left it open in my sleep-deprived state. Thankfully, she hadn’t escaped her bonds, nor was the noise enough that anyone outside had heard it yet.
Mind you, I’d be surprised if she could have wriggled out at all.
In my stupor, I’d gone for any restraint I could think imaginable to bind Alice. Criss-crossed by ropes, chains, spare sheets, and belts, her limbs had been bound tightly against her torso and her legs tied together. A trio of chains connected to iron rings set in the walls of the room, and finally to cap it off a rope had been pulled tightly across her mouth, a thick heavy knot acting as an impromptu gag.
Alice strained against the numerous bindings the moment I opened the door, muffled screams and curses coming from around the gag. Chains clanked, rope strained, but everything held together as her eyes practically bugged out of her skull.
“Mmulffviiaaa!” she screamed.
“Huh,” I said, then moved to close the door, causing another series of muffled shrieks. “Oh hush, I’m just closing it. I don’t want my neighbors hearing you shriek for help if I ungag you.”
If being the keyword in that sentence. I didn’t particularly want to listen to any more of Alice Skall. Didn’t want to hear any insults or attempts to blame me. Didn’t want to hear her voice.
“I’m going to undo the gag,” I said, tone as dead as I was feeling. “No screaming, no yelling. No threats. No taunting me sexually.”
She grunted in annoyance at that last one, and I could practically hear the complaint that I’d been the one to bite her. She’d tempted me first, though.
Sighing, I went to undo the gag. I couldn’t get any straight answer until I let her speak. Unfortunately.
“I’m surprised it was this easy,” I muttered as I undid the gag, keeping my skin far away from hers. “You did know it was drugged tea, didn’t you?”
“Of course, I knew the tea was drugged, Malvia, the only reason I drank it was you having a revolver,” Alice yelled as soon as the gag was loose. “Or did you think leaning in and looking like some ghoul while going ‘HaVe SomE TeA!’ was persuasive?”
“I don’t look like a ghoul,” I replied defensively.
“Then you left me down here with an untreated wound!” she snapped.
Oh, right. The bite mark on her shoulder.
“And then you left me in these torturous bindings all night long,” she hissed.
“Yes, how dare I deal with an intruder in my home this way?” I said. “I should have turned you into the Watch instead. Sorry that instead you’ve had to deal with mild discomfort.”
“I can’t feel my limbs anymore!”
I paused, considering that. “Probably. I’ll loosen that some. Within reason. In maybe an hour or two.”
“Maybe an hour or two? It’s been what, twelve?”
“It’s been six,” I said, stifling a yawn. “That’s how long the alchemical lasts.”
I’d checked the clock on my way down here. About six, give or take a few minutes. I unfortunately couldn’t be any more precise than that.
Her expression softened just a little. “You’re using alchemicals to sleep?”
“More like using them to stay awake,” I said.
“Then go to bed?”
That…sounded like a fantastic idea, but I already knew it wouldn’t work out. I was up, and once I was up, I couldn’t just go to sleep. Besides. I doubted the day's events were going to wait for me.
“Not yet,” I said. “Not for a while.”
“Malvia,” she said. “You need rest. Circles under the eye don’t disappear that fast, and neither do cuts heal that fast. You can’t just magic away your--mmmppphhh!”
“Shush,” I told her as I fit the gag back on her. “I’ll make you more comfortable later. For now, let me enjoy my morning in peace?”
Wonder of wonders, she remained quiet as I left. I still shut the door all the way, but the thought had to count for something. Maybe I should loosen them now instead of later?
No. Enough dealing with Alice. She was something I could work on later, with help. Voltar, probably.
Instead let me focus elsewhere, as my tea finished brewing and I had a few relief granting, fatigue draining sips. How could I possibly feel so tired just after waking up?
A few more sips, draining my cup. A second? I could treat myself a little. And maybe go to that little shop and order a slice of-no. No, no other distractions, too far out of the way. I’d wasted enough time today already. No cake.
I poured the second cup of tea, moving back down the stairs, grabbing my tail as it tried to wrap around the teapot handle.
I sipped gently as I walked through my store floor, warmth slowly suffusing my being. Ignore the problems. Let them dissolve in simple pleasures as I walk to my front door, opening it to reveal the traffic of the day, the cold air mixing with the bright, shining sun. Clouds dotted the sky and flakes of snow fell, but the day illuminated the white blanket laid out on the street, marked by a thousand hooves and boots already.
A fresh day, free of interruptions and troubles! A cold, brisk winter morning to bring me to alertness and wash away the aches and pains of yesterday!
And what awaited me outside my door? Five garishly dressed thugs running at me, carrying an Infernal ritual circle ripped from its foundations, the shriek of the trapped souls echoing through the city.
“Special delivery as requested, you jackass!” One of them shrieked, and then as one, they all threw Donald Tyler’s diabolic artifact through my front window.
Glass broke and shattered, mixed with the shrieks of the damned as they backpedaled, running for the street corner as fast as they could. I made out a yelled, “Holmsteader sends her regards!” before they all piled into a waiting cart.
I stood on my front doorstep, frozen mid-sip while from the shattered window of my shop, the cacophony of wailing from the giant metal disc only rose.
A slight squeal from my teacup as I gripped it a bit too tightly, hardened nails threatening to chip or shatter it. The onlookers who hadn’t fled were edging away, their initial curiosity dying swiftly as they realized exactly what had been tossed into my shop. I backed into my shop, slamming the door shut.
Worse of all, now there was nothing keeping that damnable chill out.
***
Luckily for me, one young infernal lass had more courage and curiosity than brains. She’d also sworn she could get to Voltar’s house to deliver a message and be back within the hour. A couple of pounds spent, and all I could hope was that she hadn’t just robbed me as I went to deal with the shrieking artifact.
Donald Tyler’s sacrificial circle sat in the middle of the floor, angry screaming and buzzing emerging from the artifact and piercing my ears.
The symbols on it glowed a deep, dark red, the blood stains on its surface somehow richer than when I’d first discovered it. I’d put it down to different lighting if not for everything else.
Had Holmsteader agitated it on purpose, trying to drive the souls inside to a frenzy or mess with the internal diabolism to make it like this? Or was it merely rough handling by thugs who didn’t know better? My own knowledge had too many holes to tell for sure.
Something bit my cheek with a buzz, and I slapped it irritably. Beyond my now broken window, snow was falling once again. Not only was it sending in the cold, but everything trying to escape the cold was coming in as well. Another reason to get this thing quiet as quickly as possible, so I could hear myself think when I boarded up the window.
I hesitated as I considered kneeling down next to it. Truth be told, there were more reasons than keeping it quiet. These souls had been collected by a man with so many tangential ties to all of this. If I could determine anything else about this artifact, it might help. Of course, it would mean risking contact with the container of angry souls.
Another problem. It wasn’t my ritual circle, which meant it was keyed for use by Donald Tyler. I doubted he’d been generous enough to key it for any user. Trying to use it could mean a backlash against me, and even at best it would be awkward and ugly to use.
Add that to my not amazing knowledge or technical skills with Diabolism, and this was a recipe for disaster. I had no illusions about my greatest advantage being sheer raw power, and that my teaching had been built around making me good for a few specific tasks and leaving me dependent on a teacher that I disliked for the others.
Our relationship had started with it promising secrets in return for me chewing my way through a slightly rotund dwarf. It had mostly been downhill from there.
Still, I didn’t have an option.
“Four cows,” I said to the open air. “For helping me with this.”
That finally attracted a comment.
The blood and fingers of the leashed poodle that will teach you instead of me.
“No deal,” I said. “I’ll throw in a pig, to add some variety.”
The flesh of the fat one who is trying to render me obsolete.
“Oh yes, instead of eating a diabolist who Intelligence values more than me, I’ll eat my handler instead,” I said. “Why not I throw in his brother as well, go for the trifecta of people who killing will definitely land my head in a noose?”
If you restrict your diet to those worth less than you in the eyes of others, you’ll end up starving.
The matter-of-fact neutrality of that statement caught me off guard as I tried to find something to turn that sudden burst of anger onto. Unfortunately the only thing physically here was me, the circle, and things I owned. My tail did tug on a glass vial which I quickly caught.
“Seven cows, two pigs, and a chicken,” I said. “Live, squirming, just like you enjoy. My final offer.”
A pause, then silence.
“If you keep acting like this, I’ll never listen to you again,” I said. “Even if the alternative didn’t exist? Not alerting me to that devil could have killed me, Imp. I wouldn’t listen regardless.”
Yet here you are, begging for guidance.
“Asking for the sake of convenience,” I said. “Not out of necessity. Worse case? I leave my shop with a hole in its so far subpar defenses and go fetch Vesper. So?”
More silence, then reluctantly Very well. If I must.
I nodded, then stared down at the circle, hesitant to take the first step.
Why are you afraid? The Imp asked me. Why do you fear it?
“Because it’s a diabolic artifact carrying who knows how many souls inside it, all of them assuredly not happy,” I said, keeping my distance from it. “Most of them are probably frightened and confused at best. The ones who know where they are will be even more terrified. And getting order out of it means wading into that. I’m liable to get bit, metaphorically speaking.”
Only if you let them, The Imp said, and I could hear the sneer on its face. Only if you are weak. After last night, I think the same, but if you disagree, lash them with fear until they don’t dare strike.
What pleasant, useful advice, but short leaving this here to do Hells knew what while I go consulted Vesper, it was all I had.
“If I actually touch it, can you provide advice that isn’t likely to rile them up further?” I asked them Imp. “Lashing a few sounds like the perfect way to convince them I need to be dealt with.”
They’ll already lash for touching it, The Imp said. The weak fear their betters, know that you being there means their place is below. And those below are fuel.
More likely because the moment I touched, they’d know a diabolist fully capable of spending their souls as fuel.
“Enough unnecessary biased framing,” I said. “Actual advice for coming out of this? It’s another diabolist’s sacrificial circle, so it won’t be easy tapping into it.”
It is a tool of a dead one whose will should easily be surpassed by your own, The Imp said. You have killed him, claimed your property as your own, asserting your will over his on it, which should be within the capabilities of a child.
“I asked for advice,” I said. “Not mockery and attempts to make me torment a few souls for your pleasure. Technical advice, Imp.”
It is technical advice. Magic is not just rote formulas. It is intent and will and meaning beyond hand motions. Do you recite some silly spell when you cast the fire that has sustained us since before time existed?
“Enough hyperbole,” I said. “There’s a difference between hellfire and things more complicated.”
Only in your head, The Imp said. In actuality….execution may vary, the concepts called upon are always the same. Diabolism is not just mixing ingredients and saying the right phrase over a bubbling mixture, it is tapping into the diabolic eternal, guiding it, shaking it with your intent. Not just repeating some words from a tome without a flicker of feeling and having this world react because it’s will is weak. Time is a suggestion. Physics but a myth. Forget all you know about this place when you think of the power of the Hells, for it is beyond all of them. Your body will serve you not, merely what dwells within.
“Intent matters, yes,” I agreed, partially to try and hurry it along. “What can I expect when I tap into this?”
If you wish to just touch it and manipulate it, simply act like it is a ritual circle. You can contact the gestalt mass and attempt to guide it to your will, assuming you do not get overwhelmed. If you would simply lash-
“Again, suggestions more fitting for a lighter touch.”
You do your father shame.
“If you want to claim that thing has no sense of subtlety, I’m going to call you a liar,” I said. “I knew my mother well and she had no liking for muscled-up meatheads.”
Actually, many of us witnessed the moment of your procreations, and-
Eyes widening, I almost bit right through my tongue at that thought before blurting a sufficient threat. “I will endure holy water if it means never having to listen to you again if you say one more word about that. Subtle touch. Solution. Now!”
Touchy. But if you insist on not harming those who fell into a trap, there might be another way. Flood the artifact with your power, letting the souls within know the power you carry. It probably carries a paltry amount, and not for too long in this accursed plane. So you can intimidate them with the knowledge of your power, of your lineage.
That sounded much more promising. “And how to do that without touching the souls until I’m ready?”
Just a finger and let it out. You are a daughter of a duke, the energy released will keep any soul from getting too close until you are ready. Do not worry about the how, just unleash Hellfire and then stop when you feel drained. Your reserves will come back with time.
I frowned. That did not sound particularly safe, and even if it wouldn’t cause damage here it would leave me vulnerable in the future.
“This isn’t some trick or trap?” I asked.
Arranged with who? The Imp said. The other entities inside your head?
I raised an eyebrow. “Make an oath?”
I have not done anything I think will cause you harm.
Good enough. I put my index finger on the circle’s surface and let loose hellfire.
Nothing happened visibly, but I could feel the energy pouring out of me. I held it there, pouring and pouring till my muscles ached and my other hand shook, sweat dripping from my face. It was a relief to let go, and got ready to place both hands on the surface.
A quick glance in the arcane revealed the surface roiling, blood-soaked iron rising and falling like heavy waves across the docks. The souls, or the energy I’d just put into it? Either possibly. I closed my eyes, placing both hands on the circle.
I gasped, the sudden presence in front of me like a punch to the gut. Massive, a writhing, shrieking maelstrom of souls waiting just beyond the barrier, drawing me into memories of that room, that underground cellar, warms with blood and death as -
-please no he could send me but not the others, not the little ones, not this early-
-Barked defiance as I rush him, straining agains the chains. They cut as he laughs, jagged pieces of metal slicing into my, rivers of pain as he pulls out the knife, the circle on the floor glowing-
-cough weakly as he dragged me, the feeling of blood and bones underneath as he pulled-
-”I understand your concerns, but you’re far from the only one. Trust me, better to do this than have us all squabbling over a piece of the pie”-
I came up gasping, biting my tongue as a dozen phantom wounds painted themselves on my body. Pain, but there was something else, another imprint, but I didn’t have time to think before it pulled me in again.
-”Stop! Stop” Screaming as they carve up Rita, three figures slicing, only one of them I knew, Tyler, you-
-Bastard cutting deep, slicing into my guts, and I-
-”We do this right, which means no using these. You have enough resources to hide yourself, but these souls must be saved. The clothes may not-”
-Fire in the mouth as they sliced through the tongue, cutting deep into the flesh-
I flickered into the arcane, trying to find a way out, only for a mass of shrieking, skeletal faces to envelop me and drag me down again into memories.
-please Tyler I’ve done good work why would-
-Take them don’t take me please I-
-I told you not to deal with any of the priests! Do you know how much jeopardy you’ve added to this plan-
In and out, as the mass of agonized souls roiled about, not intimidated in the slightest. Treacherous imp. Bits of conversation every time, sentences or fragments every single time.
-The first move begins tonight. You've already risked enough, do not do anymore-
A phantom blade to my kidneys, disabling me as I'm dragged to the circle, head placed on it before my throat is slit.
-You asked for too many, it's getting harder to hide. I need more time. The others do as well.-
Feeling of the knife slicing through my throat, ragged breaths drawn through a windpipe convinced it was cut.
They were working together, some of them at least. More circles. More gathered souls. How? Panting, drawing in breaths through lungs convinced they’d been stabbed, cut out, and flooded in memory, I finally could pull free from the roil of souls.
Too late.
The surface of the circle quivered, the metal lines moving as the blood-soaked metal moved like a wave across. I shivered, trying to back away, but with a jerk, my hands were ranked, pulled underneath the liquid metal. I yelled, trying to pull back, only for the metal to become solid once again. Trapping my hands.
“Imp?” I yelled as something seized me, forcing my elbows to bend, bringing my face closer to the circle’s surface. The symbols on the circle glowed a dull red, then began to move into one as my face pulled closer. “Imp!”
Home calls
My scream cut off as my face touched the circle
Comments
UnderwhelmingBird
Lmao!! Loved the dream sequence, that was a hoot. Glad to have some extra info on the magic system, and it seems like things were aaaaalmost about to start looking up for Malvia. Thank goodness she didn't so much as hope but more...suspend disbelief? Like a captured/stolen moment of happiness before it all crumbles.
Baumlaus
Maybe he gives her a hug. Isn't that something fathers do? 🥲
Lecture Filler
Can t wait for Malvia to eventually meet her father. Sounds like a cool guy. (also the dream about Tagashin is so funny)
Baumlaus
That reads as if the opposite of a hug is about to happen! 😭😬
