Chapter 27: Hunger

Sairek cursed and swore to himself in his head, having just finished half dragging himself in a jog around the town for the tenth time and continuing for more. He knew the punishment was supposed to be harsh, but how was he supposed to know that Fuyiki would nearly double the punishment from a dozen laps, to twenty?!

He was only halfway done and he felt like he was close to passing out already.

Still, he could not deny that his stamina was increasing. The first time, he wasn’t able to run this long without feeling more exhausted than he was now. It wasn’t much, but as loathed as he was to admit it, this pushing his body to its limits seemed to be having some merit in building up his stamina…


Meanwhile in his usual sitting spot, Cyial’s head slowly turned, watching Sairek half jog, half hobble across his view, from his left to his right, until he once again disappeared behind the corner of the walls. As was becoming habitual at this rate, he let out a yet another sigh.

This… did not exactly go according to plan.

Like Sairek, he too thought Fuyiki would just repeat the punishment, not make it worse. He wanted Sairek to stay in shape, yes, but this was maybe a little bit overkill.

Thankfully Sairek would have some rest on his birthday tomorrow. At this rate though, the demon wondered if the poor Prince would just spend most of the day just sleeping in, trying to recuperate from this punishment. He knew Sairek wouldn’t stop because of the bet they had made. He was too stubborn and more importantly to him, he wanted to understand what was ‘wrong’ with him better. He knew Sairek would run a hundred laps if he needed to.

Cyial’s gaze moved to look back to his left to look Fuyiki over. The man was just watching, arms crossed as he waited for Sairek to reappear once again.

“Twenty laps is a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Wasn’t this your idea? I did warn you both last time.”

Cyial grimaced. He figured the man would know. He was more perceptive than he let on, Cyial could figure that out early on. He was often perceptive himself. “Twenty laps, though...”

“Warned you.”

Cyial rolled his eyes, his gaze distracted by the appearance of Sairek dragging himself even more than he had last time.

“At least give him a small break in between. Just look at him.”

Fuyiki sighed, then brought two fingers to his lips to let out a sharp whistle to get Sairek’s attention. It worked and he looked up at them, which Fuyiki waved to motion him over. Sairek slowly walked over, heaving hard, and bracing his hands against his knees to pant for breath when he reached them. His bare upper body was covered in a film of sweat, some droplets even dripping down his body.

“I’ll give you a five minute break. Take a rest, drink some water,” Fuyiki commented, pulling a flask out of his robe and handing it to the Prince, who happily took it and began gulping the contents of the flask down. “Don’t stop moving your legs though. Walk around for a bit, or they’re going to feel like jelly and it’ll make it harder to keep running.” Fuyiki cautioned him.

“Wish you told me that yesterday… would have made climbing that tree less painful…” Sairek huffed after consuming nearly half of the flask in one go.

Cyial shifted his seating position and relaxed a little, a bit more comfortable with Sairek getting at least some empathy from his harsh instructor.

When five minutes passed, Fuyiki waved him off again and Sairek walked back towards the front of the town’s entrance before taking off in a slightly less pathetic looking jog than before.

Cyial slowly shook his head, moving to look back down at his book, but he couldn’t concentrate, so instead he looked back up to Fuyiki as he closed it. A thought formulated in his head. “Hey, why don’t you teach Sairek how to conjure things like you can?”

“Why don’t you?” Fuyiki answered back.

“Using magic for me is completely different from humans.” Cyial answered, then bit his lip as he thought about his own answer. “Is it because it’s the same reason for you?”

“Not at all.”

Cyial arched an eyebrow. “...Then why?”

“Because it’s a secret. Also I couldn’t teach him even if I wanted to.”

“But even I can do it.”

“Which is very impressive at your age, even if it is of very limited capacity, but like you said, it’s different for demons than humans.”

Cyial huffed. The man’s indirect and confusing answers weren’t getting him anywhere.

“Okay, let me ask this instead; what else is it possible to make?”

“Pretty much any object your imagination can think of realistically, but of course making something out of magic will only cause it to formulate for a brief period of time, and then it will fade out of existence again. You can always store something nearby, and then just move it with your magic from within a pocket dimension, and it will be permanent. That’s what your friend does with that little gem of his. That’s the easiest way to do it, but of course that has its own problems and requirements that must be adhered to.
“Conjuring objects like those shields is a fine and probably the most practical use of it anyway. Nothing else is going to be that much useful or sustain much damage. There are niche uses of course still, like putting a mattress under your student who has fallen down a tree.”

“If you can just use magic to move things, can’t you use magic to just gather a bunch of precious gems and minerals and be rich then?” Cyial asked.

“In theory. That would be a reckless idea, though.”

“Why is that?”

“Sometimes gems, crystals or whatever mineral may contain minute amounts of magic in them. Sometimes they may contain a lot of magic in them. They can often be quite fragile to other contact with magic. What do you think may happen when you use magic to abruptly shift something fragile to other forms of magic like that?”

“It would probably shatter and release, causing a reaction.” Cyial answered.

“Correct. Now, imagine that in an area with a bunch of those.”

“...Ah.” Cyial let out dryly. One catalyst going off like that would almost certainly guarantee the pile you hoarded would set off too. Such a disaster would… not be a pleasant experience for sure; especially if you were in the middle of it all in such an enclosed space such as a cave. Even if someone survived a number of reactions like that, the cave’s structure probably could not handle such a thing and would bury whoever was inside alive from collapse.

“So, they’re fragile with other magic, but not being mined with a pickaxe?” Cyial asked.

“Well, they can still be fragile. Some are so potent with magic they can be crushed with just a fist into dust and have the magic released with your bare hands, though that can be useful to release the magic at anything dangerous if you do it correctly. It is the same for many ores though, not just magical ones. Strike wrong with the pickaxe and you can still shatter the ore.”

“I see.” Cyial nodded, satisfied now.

“I’m guessing you read something about that in that book of yours.”

“Yes,” Cyial admitted. “There’s lots of random stuff in there. I guess I just like knowing about random facts.”

“Knowledge is power.” Fuyiki agreed. “Especially when it comes to knowing how to not blow yourself up.”

“How do these crystals and gems form anyway?” Cyial asked.

“We’re not sure. They just do. We have a few theories of course, but each one has their own problems. The best we can guess is that it’s just kind of like how ethereal can form in pools in certain locations, except instead of a liquid substance, it’s a solid substance. However, while pools of ethereal are just ethereal in its most condensed form, crystals such as the ones in your book there are anything but. They can be many things, of any element, and they can house all manner of magic in them, even full on spells. Those crystals are how our very first spells were formed, and we kind of started making our own from that same process.” Fuyiki said, looking as Sairek was in view again.
“That little gem your Prince wears; each kingdom has one. They’re tiny, but they’re the rarest and most powerful of those kinds of gems. Despite their much smaller size, they can hold an insane amount of energy in them, of any type of element, to cast a large manner of spells, and unlike most catalysts, are ridiculously durable. Each kingdom has found their own, but only one each.”

“So there’s only four of those types of gems known in the world of such power, and Sairek owns one.” Cyial abbreviated.

“Yes. If another one was found somewhere that was bigger, or multiple of them of similar size, it would definitely tip the balance of power between the kingdoms for sure. They’re that useful. Of course, most kingdoms have adopted the tradition of protecting either themselves with them, or their next of kin.”

Cyial dug deeper into his thoughts for a moment. If that was the case, then going to Kior out in public would definitely attract attention. Going in unofficially was just simply out of the question. Not unless they were planning to hide the jewelry and Sairek’s identity somehow.

“Ah, they look like regular gems for the most part. Their appearance isn’t what is so special about them. It’s their properties, which also makes them hard to find.” Fuyiki remarked while he appraised Cyial in his thoughtful expression. “Of course, any pretty little gem will attract attention, but I would not be so worried about people going after him just for the jewel. Only people who know specifically that he is the Prince would know what it is, and some aren’t even educated upon that in itself. Most instead think it’s just a pretty sign of heritage."

"I guess that explains why that clerk at the Holding Center wasn't too impressed and wouldn't let Sairek through." Cyial suggested.

“Most likely. Of course, I would still advise caution regarding it. I checked the enchantments out on it though and it all seems to be in good order. Even if someone stole it, it would be easy to track down, no one else but Sairek can use it without disenchanting, which risks destroying the use of the gem itself, and there are plenty of safeguards against that too. The thing has been passed down for generations, it’s protected well.”

Cyial nodded, feeling a bit more relieved. “Between a Yggdrasil staff and that gem then, I can see why you stripped Sairek away of them.”

“Yes, it’s pretty easy to cast magic when you have not one but two items of interest which both make magic much easier to cast. That’s why your Prince isn’t able to cast magic well by himself. I don’t know what those buffoons at the castle were thinking. They were handicapping his growth the entire time. Now he has to catch up on a few years worth of practice in just a few days.” Fuyiki shook his head. “Honestly, it is not fair to him.”

Cyial frowned momentarily. “At least he seems to be a lot more keen to catch up on his magic than exercising.”

“Well, that’s good at least. It is probably the thing he needs to catch up on the most. Exercise is easy. It’s just committing to it that’s hard. Learning magic is hard, but committing to it is easy.”



When Sairek finished his twentieth lap, he collapsed on the ground, heaving hard. It was already noon by the time he had finished, and he was practically just walking the last couple of laps around. Cyial moved to pull the poor Prince over to let Sairek’s head rest on his lap instead of the ground while he breathed. Cyial leaned in closer to his ear, whispering a quiet apology to him. Making him suffer this much to show his commitment had not been his intent at all last night.

“Luckily for you boy, I had planned to give you today and the next two days off in regards to your birthday, but if you ever make a mess in my house again, I am still not going to be afraid to punish you. Understand…?” Fuyiki warned him.

“Y...ess…” Sairek huffed.

“Good. When you can get up and move, I’ll leave your clothes and staff on the bed.” Fuyiki said, before moving to walk back into town and leaving them alone once again.

Sairek wanted to argue but literally did not have the energy to do so, instead, he just lay there against Cyial, trying to recoup his stamina back.

“Sorry…” Cyial apologized again.

“Stop…” Sairek told him between breaths. “I’m—getting… better… I think…”

“We’ll go to the forest later… for now, let’s just get your clothes and let you rest at the inn… and maybe get you a bath. You’re sweating all over.”

With Cyial’s help, Sairek managed to make it back up to his feet and dragged himself back to town. He was a bit self-conscious of some of the glances he always received and today was no different, though at this rate, this was becoming normal and people were looking at him less. He was unsure if that was good or bad. He had a feeling that Fuyiki's uniform was probably all the explanation they needed, though.

They entered Fuyiki’s place, and Sairek after taking a quick rinse with Fuyiki’s permission and making sure not to make a mess, dressed himself fully. It felt good to wear his usual attire again, to feel the presence of the royal jewel and his staff. A feeling that would be short lived for a little while as Cyial helped him back to the inn. The clerk at the counter looked at Sairek and even asked if he was okay. They reassured her that he was.

Back in Cyial’s room, Sairek undressed from his shirt again and flopped down onto the bed with an exhausted groan, draping his left arm over his eyes as he lay back. The bed felt much better than the ground, for sure. His muscles over the course of the past few days have started to gain an increasing aching to them. A few days of proper rest from all the physical training was just what he needed.

He felt Cyial move to lay beside him on the bed, cuddling up next to him and he sighed. They didn’t bother to cover themselves up at all, they just lay together in the quiet of the Inn while it was largely unoccupied by anyone else at the moment. Sairek quickly dozed himself into a much needed lazy nap...
 

 

* * *

 

Far away from Ceareste, in the kingdom of Masirean…

 

 

“Step aside! The mercenary Varhi is coming through!”


Varhi proceeded himself forward, his steel silver greaves thudding hard with each marching step he took towards the castle. A total of eight soldiers guarding the front open gateway split apart to allow him entry. He walked briskly despite the metallic boots covering his legs up to his knees, as if the metal weighed nothing at all.
Varhi continued forward through the entrance door into the castle. His cape, black, with the edges streaked in dim and dark violet, billowed behind him through the air. His chain shirt underneath his black mantle and midnight blue leather armor rattled with his movements.

The thudding of his greaves turned softer as stone and short-lived marbled flooring gave way to overly-sized red carpet. Still continuing onward, up multiple small sets of stairs, Varhi followed the carpet as two guards moved in front of him to open up a doorway inside while he made his way towards the throne room.

The carpet continued to guide him in his linear direction, until he finally, after two more doorways which were opened in a similar fashion as the first, led him into the room he sought after. He did not pause his steps upon entry, only stopping when he was about twenty-five feet away from the two thrones themselves of the King and Queen who ruled this country. King “Avotash” Masirean and Queen “Alyana” Masirean.
Varhi did not hesitate as he moved to position himself down into a kneeling stance to get, left knee under him, the right knee raised, with his right arm propped upon it and his head staring down at the floor. His face neutral and expressionless as his dark brown bangs of hair cascaded down his face slightly, the movement interrupted by a metallic triangular knight's helmet visor which obscured his face to the royalty patrons in front of him.

He heard King Avotash move to stand from his throne. “Rise Varhi, you do not need to kneel in front of me like a peasant.”

Varhi bit the inside of his mouth on the right side tenderly. Last time he didn’t kneel down, he got scolded for it. Now it was suddenly okay? He hated royalty sometimes.
...No, that was a lie. He hated royalty all the time. With his hair and helmet obscuring his face, he made no effort to hide the scowl on his features until he made a motion to move his head to look upwards to signal he heard the King.

Resisting the urge to further display his annoying by rolling his eyes and letting loose an exasperated sigh—thus proving to everyone on the Masirean Guard that yes, he was indeed perhaps just a little bit more than a childish delinquent who didn’t know his place. They were just jealous after all.

Varhi stood to rise up from the carpet, brushing his dark brown hair away from his face and eyes with one leather gloved hand adorned with half plate, to stand at his full height of merely four feet and ten inches tall. Dwarfed in comparison by the King’s height of just over six feet and the Queen was only a couple inches shorter than that. Also the man was on another set of those tiny little stairs that were only three to five steps long. Why did architects insist on making those? Did royalty crave looking down upon the more common folk so much? Maybe it was to intimidate them.

Varhi did not fall for such cheap tricks. His deep violet eyes flicked to regard the both King and Queen with an intensely and attentive stare.

The King waved his hand in a gesture. All the guards in the room moved in unison at once to leave the room. Varhi briefly eyed them from each side of him without moving his head, until each one had left the throne room except just him, the King and Queen and one other guard standing next to the King’s side. With the room now practically empty again, Avotash once more moved and sat back down onto his throne. Varhi had done this enough times now to know that was his sign to begin to speak about his report. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, before his young voice sounded throughout the room.

“I delivered your message to Ceareste just like you asked. It took them over a week to finally reply, but they will be sending a few reinforcements as requested.” Varhi answered. He dug inside of his satchel at his right waist to pull out a letter and offered it out in front of him.

The singular remaining guard moved from his position, approaching Varhi to take the envelope from his hands and then retreated back to hand it towards his Majesty. Immediately the King’s eyebrows furrowed as the envelope the letter was housed in was...

“...You unsealed it.” He noted out loud, dryly.

Varhi shrugged. “I was curious what it said. Does it really matter?”

“These are private kingdom matters and not for you.”

“That’s what they all say. Come on, I’m an off-party. I don’t gain to profit from what it says.” Varhi groaned. “‘Suppose for a moment that I lost the letter for whatever reason and didn’t know the contents... what would I do? Like this, I could still tell you what it said in that instance and my mission wouldn’t end up in total failure.” Varhi reasoned, exasperating his shrug. “Not that I planned at all to lose the letter for such a simple errand, but in this line of work, you can never be too careful. Besides, you requested the reinforcements anyway, and King Ceareste directly told me the response. We had a bit of a chat, in fact. Very hospitable host—”

“Enough.” Avotash growled. Instead of looking at the boy who dared to begin to lecture him, opted to begin to read the letter.

...This did not increase his mood.

“Two months!?” He abruptly growled, angrily.

Varhi blinked at the sudden outburst and abrupt loss of composure. He lowered his hands back down to his sides.

“That’s far too long!” Avotosh scowled.

“Ah, right! If it helps any, when I read the letter, I was very adamant about them coming sooner. It is a matter of grave importance after all. So, it says two months in the letter, but I persuaded him to help in one month. Given my travel time to even get back here, that means they should be here in a little more than two weeks.” Varhi explained, and then lowered his head but kept his gaze level with the man. “See, aren’t you glad I read the letter they gave me now? If I hadn’t read it, I wouldn’t have been able to persuade them to come sooner.”

The man—and his wife both just glared at him.

Varhi smiled back at them sweetly with his lips pressed together.

...Thus, disappeared any momentum he had gained in proving he was little more than just a childish delinquent.
Oh well. The others had already been dismissed from the room.

“Regardless…” the King sighed and grumbled, crumbling up the letter and tossing it aside for some poor soldier to pick up for him later, “...one month is still out of the question. Two weeks more may still be too long. The situation is getting out of hand. I need some sort of experts to help me research this phenomena and the people who live in Ceareste are best equipped for something like this.”

“Yet it apparently is of so little importance that you lied and downplayed the reason for requesting reinforcements to Ceareste in your letter to them.” Varhi reminded him.

The man’s face flushed angrily.
...Yes, Varhi had opened and read that initial letter he had been requested to send, too.

“I warned you that it’s none of your business…!” Avotash hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh no worries, I didn’t tattle on you to them.” Varhi replied with another shrug. “I told you, I make sure to get my jobs done. I just do them my way. Speaking of which, I have delivered the message and returned the reply...”

The Queen rolled her eyes at him and reached down into her robe, pulling out a small pouch that was tied closed. Rather than waiting for their little butler guard to hand it to him, she just tossed it to Varhi himself, who moved to catch it gracefully with ease, despite the fact she had aimed it to intentionally missed. He also surmised she wanted him gone as soon as possible for being annoying. He was fine with that he supposed, he wanted out of here too.

He opened it up to examine the amount inside and frowned. “Oi. This wasn’t the agreed upon amount of seru.” He protested, his deep violet eyes looking up at them both.

“You didn’t do everything as fully instructed. So you don’t get the full pay.” Alyana spoke, her voice silken, but her tone smug.

Well, Varhi couldn’t argue with that he guessed. He shrugged and pocketed the pouch. The pay had been junk anyway, but being forced to stay at Marid's seedy tavern for days and days really did a number on his pocket. He was more out from this job than he even made financially. But, well, it was the information he had really been interested in, anyway.

“...Fine. Well then, unless there is something else, I shall be taking my leave.” Varhi announced, beginning to turn around to walk away, one steel boot already off the carpet as he turned around.

“Wait.” The King ordered him sternly. Varhi, with his one foot still raised, pivoted on his other foot to turn himself back around almost immediately and returned to stand on two feet facing both King and Queen. He had been expecting it, after all.

“...Since you seem to want to do things your own way and you keep prodding about the matter, I will allow you to investigate.” Avotash finished.

“...Oh?” Varhi tried his best to hide his smirk. “You know I don’t work for free—”

“Five-thousand seru.”

Varhi was caught off guard from that one and that subtle smirk vanished into genuine surprise. He must have made some sort of sputtering noise and he waved his arms for balance as he suddenly lost his footing despite standing in place. When he recovered, he quickly shook his head. "...I... must have misheard that. Could you repeat that please?"

Avotash need not hide his smirk. "I said... Five. Thousand. Seru."

"... ... ..."

Five-thousand seru? That was… generous.

Varhi moved his gloved hand up to his chin in thought for a second, eyes looking up at the stained glass window high above both thrones, which beamed in light of radiant colors from the sun.
“... ... ...
Oookay then~ ...What’s the catch?” Varhi hummed playfully.

“You go in alone.”

Aha. Now it all made sense. "You can’t let your loyal subjects catch you just shoving this under the bed and pretending it doesn't exist, eh?” Varhi teased in a playful tone.

“It’s none of their business. None of yours either, but since you are so damn persistent...”

“...Well, I will just say that we should agree to disagree on that front. I'm just a curious kid." Varhi replied, moving to cross his arms in front of him, pretending to look upwards in a thoughtful manner. "I mean, can you really blame me? It’s not normal for a small group of half a dozen soldiers who were just doing a routine inspection on a mountain village to just go missing with the only one returning back becoming raving mad, having something going on with his body that bewildered your fair city’s doctors to the point that even they couldn’t save him.” Varhi reminded him, getting smug satisfaction seeing one of the most powerful people in the world gritting his teeth because of him; being told and reminded about what the King knew all too well. “A man bursting with contagious fungal growth all over his body is quite strange. People are going to ask questions about—”

“You don’t need to remind me…!” Avotash growled at him, interrupting the young mercenary's reminiscing of events nearly a month ago. “Besides, I cannot answer their questions until I have answers either way. That would be your task. Will you take the job or not?”

Varhi uncrossed his arms and leaned on his left side while placing his right hand on his hip, just above his satchel. “I go in alone, without backup, but I can do it my own way?” Varhi asked for confirmation.

“Yes.”

“Just gathering any intel I can about the current situation over at Karvadean, if there even is 'a situation' in the first place.”

“Yes.”

“...For five-thousand seru.”

“Yes.”

Varhi could not hide his elated grin. With that kind of money, he could take a break from this little mercenary business he was doing, hire a ship and journey his way to Kior as he had been planning to do for the past couple of months now. Besides, he could work alone, which was just how he preferred his jobs as well. Also, this... 'situation' had piqued his interest quite considerably. All the chips may have finally fallen into place for him. “Okay, fine, it's a deal.” Varhi agreed.

“Wonderful, then you—”

“Ah, ah,” Varhi halted him. “With all due respect ‘your Majesty’, I want it as a written contract.” Varhi interjected. "Let us make it official, as per the Masirean's Mercenary Association."

“...Of course. My mistake.” Avotash replied dryly. “Hawkins, if you’d please.”

That guard who had not left the room the entire time where everyone else did and stood stationed beside the throne room, moved, giving a brief look over at Varhi as he departed the room, not from the doorway behind Varhi like everyone else had, but from a small doorway to Varhi’s left side in the back corner of the room behind the thrones themselves. Varhi stood patiently as they waited for the man to return. In the meantime, Varhi glanced back towards both King and Queen. "My captain will require an explanation, you know. Technically I am no longer part of his squad and am freelancing, but he won't be satisfied otherwise."

"Just tell him where you are doing and what your job is. It is, after all, quite the simple mission." Avotash replied.

"...Right."
Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Varhi knew his captain — Jimmy, far too well. He also knew he was going to be lectured for taking this job. The man behaved less like a commanding officer to Varhi, and more like a surrogate father. One who in reality, didn't have any control over Varhi; but the boy didn't think the man really wanted to have control over him either. After all, when Varhi said he wanted to do things on his own, while disappointed, the man did not argue or try to stop Varhi. Only confirmed that Varhi was sure about his choice, and offered Varhi his full support.

When 'Hawkins' returned a couple minutes later, it was with a piece of paper, against a slab of stone and a quill.

Avotash took the items and began writing with the quill, movements made quite quickly. Before he had been a King, he was a merchant. Varhi was sure writing contracts was just up his alley. Which was also why Varhi was being careful. Merchants knew quite a bit about deception and snaking their ways around deals and the man probably knew even more when he had gained that precious little crown he wore on his head.
After all, Varhi learned the hard way when he first started out with this profession as a mercenary what being cheated out due to a faulty contract was like. And for five-thousand seru? Yeah, he was not risking that chance.

“...There. Read it over and if you agree to the terms, sign your name on the line under my signature.” Avotash said, handing the items to Hawkins, who then stepped over to Varhi to hand them to him now. "As usual, your surname is not required for you. Your... drawing in its place will suffice."

Varhi took the items from Hawkins and gave the contract a slow and deliberate scrutinizing. He was certainly no expert on contract wording as Avotash was, but he was no novice either. He paid very careful attention to the wording. Everything looked genuine, sound, clear and precise. Taking a second and much faster look over again just in case, he moved the quill to sign just his first name, and then drew a circular object with a indented line within it to signify the drawing of a pot lid, of all things. It was the best he could do. He couldn’t remember his surname at all. He handed the items back.

“It is done, sir. My greatsword and I are yours once again, 'my Grace'.” Varhi smirked as he handed the items back to Avotash's loyal pawn.

“Excellent. We will pray to Yggdrasil for your good fortune.” Avotash said, leaning back into the throne chair as Hawkins stepped back to his usual position..

“Uh-huh.” Varhi replied dryly. He turned back around and began to step out of the throne room, raising a hand up to wave behind him as a ‘goodbye’ gesture just before stepping through the doors, his mind already racing about how he was going to handle this job.

The trip from here to Karvadean on foot was normally four days if he hurried, but the day was half over and he did not care to stay in the capital of Masirean at an inn, so he rounded up to five days if he counted today. That would allow him to journey towards the village at his own pace and also allow him to take the southern route from here without wasting too much time. It was the slightly longer, but far easier route. Just a forest and then nothing but plains and meadows until he reached the mountains Karvadean rested within. If he recalled Masirean's geography correctly, there was a very small village at the east of the base of the mountains...
Karvadean was quite stranded and difficult to get to, being in the middle of the mountains like that.. It may even take some time specifically to find it. He did not know what he was expecting either, or how long he would need to camp there for. It would be best to play it safe. No need to fail a mission because he made such a stupid mistake like not bringing enough food with him.

Three weeks worth of provisions in total and probably at least a ride there? Ugh. That was gonna hurt the wallet... and it was already straining. The money he just received wouldn’t even cover all of that. Maybe he could ask Jimmy for a small loan for this job. Put it under his ever growing debt to the man…

Five-thousand seru though…

Well, at least the one benefit of dealing with spoiled royalty is that sometimes they paid ridiculously well when they inevitably put themselves into a hole and needed you to bury them out of it. Or perhaps in this case, annoyed them so much that they were willing to pay a criminal amount to make you go away.

 

* * *

 

Sairek yawned and stretched out on the bed as he had awoken from his little slumber. No longer feeling the ever presence of being winded or like he was about to drop dead was just a relief in of itself at this point.

“Mmn…” He heard Cyial moan at his movement, the smaller boy having fallen asleep in his own nap, cuddled up against Sairek with his head having rested on his bare chest again. He lifted himself slowly up from the Prince, blinking sleep out of his eyes. “Ah, Sairek… did you sleep well?”

“Not as well as you seemed to have.” Sairek smiled gently, but his tone gently teased him.

“Your heartbeat when you sleep is slow and gentle and you feel warm. It helps me get to sleep too. I never liked hearing just constant silence when I slept alone in the monastery. It somehow felt deafening to me.”

“Hm…” He hummed. He could understand that. Cyial’s presence alone made him feel comfortable and at ease too. Even though it had been a short time, the one night he slept alone at Fuyiki’s felt a bit off. He had begun missing his little companion being there with him.

“So… do you feel better?”

“Still feeling the aches but I feel better, yeah.”

Sairek’s stomach took that as a cue to begin to grumble a little out loud. Instinctively, Sairek moved a hand over top of it and blushed faintly in embarrassment.

“Ah, we did skip lunch after all I guess.” Cyial noted, looking out the window. “It still seems to be before dinner, though. What do you want to do?”

Sairek looked down at his shirt, folded neatly on one of the chairs. Or more specifically the gem, and he frowned. Constantly eating dried food or raw ingredients, along with Fuyiki’s cooking was starting to get to him. He didn’t miss the food at the castle necessarily, but the lack of tasteful food at all the past few days was making him wish for something a little… better.

“How about we buy some proper food for once and have a little picnic in the forest before you hold up your end of the deal?” Sairek suggested.

“W-What?” Cyial blinked and then chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting that, but sure, that sounds like fun.”

They left the inn together after Sairek got dressed again and wandered out into the town, looking at the buildings and signs until eventually going into the bazaar area, where there was more than enough delicious foodstuffs around to choose from. Sairek started by picking out a couple of sandwiches for them both that he recognized, but after a couple, he prodded Cyial to start choosing, too.

“...I don’t mind, pick whatever you want.” Cyial replied, when Sairek asked him what he wanted.

“Come on, don’t let me pick out all the food. Let there be a little diversity.” Sairek pressed him.

“Ah… well, um…”



When they both had chosen their fair share of food, they also went to gather some basic supplies, like a sheet and a couple of baskets to hold the food in. All the food and materials were so cheap in Sairek’s mind. One, two, three seru at most out of the thousands he had available thanks to Laure and what he had already taken from the castle. Of the couple of vendors who recognized him and offered to give the Prince their items he wanted for free, Sairek had to almost push to pay them and to just take the money, though sometimes it was hard and Sairek had to just give up lest he make a scene and draw attention in a place with so many people gathered.
By the time they left, all of the delicious smells had caused Sairek’s hunger to begin to gnaw at him and his mouth to be left watering.

With everything they wanted bought, they made their twenty minute walk out of the city back towards the forest again, a place Sairek was beginning to quite enjoy from having spent so much time alone with Cyial here. They found a suitable clearing deeper into the forest but not too deep that it would be easy to get lost. They both began to set everything up on the ground and sat beside each other once it was laid out. Sairek’s stomach growled again.

“Better eat up.” Cyial teased him gently.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t even know what most of this food is.” Sairek blinked. He recognized the sandwiches he picked obviously, but the truth was that once Cyial got into picking the food… he really got into picking the food and had chosen most of the stuff for them both. “What’s this… thing?” Sairek asked, pointing to a stick with chunks of meat skewered onto it. It was quite the colorful dish with other things besides the meat having been skewered onto the stick as well.

“That’s a steak kebab.” Cyial answered him. “There’s lots of different ways to make similar dishes. Almost an infinite amount of combinations. You can put things like mushrooms, veggies, marinate it in various amounts of sauces, or even use honey, lemons, and of course your choice of meat.”

Sairek pried off his gloves from his hands and picked up one of them, and Cyial followed suit. He twirled it around in his fingers via the stick and examined it, trying to find the best angle to attack this thing with his mouth. An angle found, he reached over and pulled some of it off with his teeth and began to chew. What his nose smelled did not leave his mouth disappointed at all.

“This is great! Why don’t we ever have stuff like this at the castle?” Sairek asked when he swallowed his mouthful.

Cyial chuckled at him, taking his own bite.

Sairek ate his skewer before looking over at another plate. They were sandwiches, but not ones he picked out “What about this one?”

“Grilled Chicken Sandwiches.” Cyial answered him.

Sairek’s stomach growled again. He loved chicken.

“And this one?”

“Those are deviled eggs.”

“And this one over here?”

“Those are mini pork pies.”

“What about these ones over here?”

“...Those are watermelon slices, Sairek.” Cyial chuckled. It was a joy to see him this excited over something simple like food, especially because unless it was Nayleen's cooking, it seemed that Sairek hardly ever ate.

“Everything looks so unique and colorful... It’s not like food at the castle as all. Everything is still delicious but it’s light and colorful and all unique. At the castle everything is overly classy and it’s just the same experience over and over. These are all simple, but they just... work.” Sairek commented after swallowing a bite of the chicken sandwich.

Cyial reached over to nibble on one of the watermelon slices. “There are probably thousands of different foods out in the world and even those thousands of foods each have dozens upon dozens of combinations of methods to use them as the main dish, or to be used as an ingredient for another main dish.”

“Just all this stuff we bought was so inexpensive too. Some of these even look easy to make. Why don’t we diversify at the castle like this? Sure the chefs know how to cook and it’s not like the food at the castle is bad at all, but it just gets so old eating the same style over and over!” Sairek complained once again, now reaching over to one of the mini pork pies. After chewing and swallowing it down, he spoke again. “It kind of makes me want to learn to cook, too.”

“Really?” Cyial wondered for a moment, then smiled. “Actually, that makes sense. You seem to like to be together with people. Food does just that. Everyone needs to eat food, after all. Even an incubus like me.”

“I wonder what food in the underworld is like.” Sairek pondered.

“I’m not sure. Most banished demons hate Overworld food, but that’s probably because they react badly to it. Still, they have to eat sooner or later, so they do. It’s probably way different than food here, though.”

“I’ve never seen you eat this much food before.” Sairek teased him.

“I could say the same to you.” Cyial retorted. “Most of this food is healthy too, it will be better for your nutrition than just eating the occasional bread or apple or... whatever Fuyiki keeps trying to serve us.”

“So you were thinking of me when you picked these out.” Sairek chuckled.

They kept teasing each other while they ate the food in front of them. Sairek didn’t waste a morsel of the opportunity to experience such lovely new flavors. He hadn’t expected this to be such a good idea. He had just wanted to avoid Fuyiki’s cooking. Instead, this turned out to be somewhat of an eye opening and new experience for him that he very much enjoyed.
“Ah, I’m stuffed good.” He sighed with content, moving to lay on the blanket on the ground after they had put most of the plates holding their food away. His tummy protested that he was putting too much weight on it, so he instead opted to roll to be face up, looking at the evening sky through the wistful leaves of the trees.

Cyial moved to lay next to him again. Sairek stretched one of his arms to the side for Cyial, who used it as a pillow to look up at the sky with him. Unfortunately, it was not such a clear day as the day previous. It was almost entirely overcast with clouds, but at least the clouds were still a fluffy white, with little threat to rain any time soon.

They lay, comforted by each other, allowing their bodies to take some time to digest all of that food. After some time had indeed passed, Sairek closed his eyes. Cyial peeked over a moment later, took an apprehensive breath, then closed his eyes too.

For Sairek, it was somewhat unintentional. He was just in the moment. Cyial however willingly sought the Prince’s consciousness out. It took a few moments though. He was fairly new to this as well.

When Sairek first felt the demon, he recoiled away, taking in a short surprised inhale from where he lay, but recognizing it was Cyial, he lowered his guard again, relaxing physically, mentally, then sought Cyial out now, too. He supposed that now was as good of a time than any to do this.

This time, Sairek fought to keep his mind clear while he did this, as did Cyial, wanting as little noise invading each other’s thoughts as possible between them.

Sairek felt themselves connect like the first time, and Cyial’s apprehension was almost overwhelming to him. Not necessary because there was a lot of it, but everything felt… just so sensitive. So acute. So—

“Damn it.” Sairek spoke in a curse abruptly, the connection severed from being distracted by his thoughts.

“Shh, just try again.” Cyial calmed him. “We’ve got time.”

Sairek closed his eyes and tried again, once more taking a couple minutes to get into that deep thought of being. He sought out Cyial again and they began to connect once more.

He felt Cyial again. That apprehension, and a slight bit of embarrassment this time. There was a bit of something else he couldn’t quite… recognize either, then—”

“What happened?” Sairek pondered out loud, as he was suddenly left in the dark and that left him to break out of his trance-like state at the sudden loss.

“Sorry… this is… hard.” Cyial sighed. “To willingly coax out the hunger inside of me so you can… ‘communicate’ with it is a bit... foreign. It's what I've been against doing for years, and now I'm trying to do the very opposite of that, and I’m trying to do it in a way as to not startle you.”

“Just do what you must, I won’t hate you for it.” Sairek replied.

“I don’t know—”

“Shh, just try again. We've got all day, remember?” Sairek teased him, repeating what he had said earlier.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, then.” Cyial whispered.

“Consider me warned, then.” Sairek said, although now he was admittedly getting a bit anxious himself, now.

They tried again. It took a little longer this time. Sairek felt Cyial, and it was much more different this time. The anxiety and embarrassment had deepened further, but there was so much more. The change caught him off guard, and he didn’t have long enough to dissect the information before it went silent again.

They exchanged no words this time, but Sairek was becoming acutely aware that each time they did this, the longer it was taking. He glanced over at Cyial, but his eyes were still closed, and his breathing had become very slow, almost like he was hibernating. He sought him out again. It felt like he was having to search out Cyial himself, as the other boy was no longer searching for him. He tentatively reached him again, so he was not overwhelmed like last time. Tiptoeing into the consciousness, much like how he had tiptoed into the lake the day previous.

Even then, the consciousness had completely changed like last time. It was Cyial, but there was definitely something else, like something was almost overpowering his... existence, and when Sairek felt it and it felt him back, it surprised Sairek by almost pulling him in as if invading him. Fuyiki had warned him that connections were sticky; but this was more like he was water, and Cyial was a sponge, absorbing him in.

He gasped as he was smothered by emotion from two different sides. One side was Cyial, passionate about him, his love for him, his trust in him, but also an interest. Then there was the other side which pushed much more strongly…
It was curious. Damn curious. It wanted to teach Sairek things, things Sairek couldn’t even describe. Half of it was through noise, the other half, he just couldn’t comprehend. Teach him pleasures that were so wrong to do, but it was all it could do to restrain itself even in this moment, and it was frustrating. Like Cyial, it was interested in him, but it was interested in him very much. It did however, have no interest in hurting Sairek at all. On the contrary, it wanted to please him, to make him understand what it was feeling. It wanted Sairek to understand 'it' as much as Sairek himself wanted to.
And indeed, understanding of ‘it’ was something that Sairek was quickly becoming, whether he wanted to or not. Through the thoughts and imaginations and feelings which were forcefully being bombarded into him, it caused Sairek to gasp again and whimper and shudder in a need that was foreign to him. He was very intimately receiving feelings upon him that were in themselves, intimate. He could feel the multiple desires to have him, to feed off of him, to have him in bliss—


“Grah…!” Sairek cried out, panting as the connection was abruptly severed. The exchange felt like it had been a couple of minutes, but in reality it had only been maybe a dozen or so seconds. His breaths came labored, his heart was racing, a light film of sweat was forming on his face. He felt a pressure in his pants and lifted his head to glance down to see that they were tented fairly obviously.

Cyial was already sitting up, staring at the lump that had formed in Sairek’s pants, his pupils were clearly Cyial’s, but so different. Dilated, harsh and wild looking...

Feral.

Just like the looks of the three who had taken him had been...

Cyial’s eyes looked at that lump more hungrily than Sairek had looked at any of the food they had eaten. Like him, he was breathing harder and he slowly turned his head to look towards Sairek as one hand slid to trail onto Sairek’s upper left leg, fingers resting towards his inner thigh. Sairek twitched in reaction and he swore he felt himself swell even harder, though the look Cyial was giving him was concerning and he hoped he hadn’t pushed the demon over his boundaries by accident. Regrets of this idea were beginning to form into his head.

Cyial’s hand moved again, and Sairek gasped as this time they rested right on top of his groin. Cyial let out a low rumbling sound. A mix between an animalistic growl and a pleased groan while he continued to look at Sairek. After feeling the Prince squirm under him a little in reaction to his hand applying pressure there, he leaned forwards toward him a little closer, speaking. The voice was of Cyial, but a little more deeper, with more rasp to it. It was that feral growl that he heard the undertones of when the other three demons who captured him had spoke; a sort of teasing croon to the tone of whomever spoke... but that's all his friend's voice was now.

“It would be… so easy… so easy to get what I wanted right now…” Cyial growled, leaning forward again to shift his sitting position and instead leaned towards the Prince, over him, causing Sairek’s breath to quicken again. Although the hand was lifted up from his groin, relinquishing pressure there, it was instead replaced with Cyial's right leg, which was possibly even worse than before.

“Do you remember what we talked about yesterday about saliva...?” Cyial spoke slowly, as if every single word was very deliberate.

“Y-Yes…” Sairek stammered and then gulped nervously. “I do…”

“This is the state I was talking about… this state… is when our saliva becomes a toxin…” Cyial continued to rasp, face leaning closer to Sairek’s until only inches apart. “A lick… to your face… a bite on your neck… a kiss to your lips… any of those could make you next to helpless against me, just like what I assumed happened to you before…”

Sairek didn’t say anything, suppressing a noise, but bucking gently as Cyial shifted his weight, which caused his leg to press into him a little more for a brief moment. He was relieved however, when Cyial lifted his leg away completely, yet inside of his mind there was the briefest of disappointments. Cyial instead of continuing to pin him any longer, returned his body back over to Sairek’s side, letting him go completely.

“But… I... can’t... do it…” Cyial let out, even with the hunger causing his features to appear as feral as they were, with his tiny fangs having become sharper, tears still began to well up in his eyes. “I couldn’t bear doing what they tried to do to you… None of this... is right...!”

“Shhh,” Sairek soothed him, reaching his arms up and wrapping them around the other boy to pull him back down towards his shoulder, though face down this time. Cyial appreciatively buried his face into Sairek’s arm. He wasn’t sobbing, but he was clearly upset, even with the hunger he had influencing him as it was right now.

He had a lot of thinking to do. What was the correct answer to all of this…? Was there even one? If not, then what was the best choice?