RE: Monarch
Chapter 37: Enclave VII

I mentally prepared myself for the fight. It had taken weeks to get rid of the mental baggage, and some of my fear towards the demon still lingered. These battles were never a question of whether I could win, rather, how long it would take me to lose.

Maya looked at Kastramoth seriously, giving a nonverbal warning before she commanded him. “Subdue.”

The beast charged at me, his head lowered.

I ran straight at him. His antlers were by far my biggest issue because of their absurd reach. But the teeth and hooves were nothing to scoff at either. Right before we impacted, I crouched low and jumped up in the air, intending to land on his head. But I’d done it one too many times. He flicked his head upwards, launching me in an involuntary half-flip. I managed to pull my sword breaker in time and plunged it into his membraneous side, leaving a crude gash as I slid down.

Letting the dagger go, I landed next to his back legs, and immediately threw myself into a roll as a back leg coiled and lashed out near my head. He growled viciously at me and spun and snapped, teeth clicking together perilously near my face—

Teeth, I could feel the teeth.

I scored a blow across his nose. There was a surge of triumph within me as Kastramoth shrunk away, blood dribbling down his face. Then he leered at me, and my confidence evaporated.

Lightning fast, he charged in sideways, clotheslining me with the bulk of his mass, his bloody side heaved crudely into my neck and face. My vision blurred as I fell backwards, stunned, onto the cave floor, scrambling away, trying to retreat and create space while he snapped at wildly at my retreating body, teeth clicking inches from my retreating legs. All the while, I expended mana, trying to weave it into something I could use.

Kastramoth leapt forward twice, shaking the ground, and snapped towards my arm. The violet light snapped into an aegis around my shoulder, dulling the impact, though I still felt the immense pressure of his dull teeth grinding around it.

I drove my sword into his throat, knowing it was already over. He did not let go. Finally, the aegis shattered into a thousand tiny shards. A growl of pain ripped from my throat as his teeth ground into my skin, and the bone popped. He pinned me down, face first on the ground. I could feel his breath in my ear.

”Weak.”

“That’s enough,” Maya said. Kastramoth stepped away obediently and returned to his spot on the other side of the lake. My arm throbbed, and I knew from experience that the demon had mangled it on purpose. The first few times we’d done this, my showings had been mostly pathetic, and he’d injured me more severely, angering Maya, who kept him within the amulet for a week. Lately, he’d been dialing it in, inflicting as much pain in as little damage as possible. But that was fine. He got to work some aggression out, and I got some valuable combat experience fighting against something much bigger and stronger than me.

I would not always be in a position where I could out plan or out maneuver, as I had in Kholis and the Everwood. It was important to be able to hold my own in a straight fight.

That didn’t mean, however, that I wouldn’t keep trying to stack every advantage possible in my favor.

Maya approached me with a sympathetic look, her hand glowing green. She pressed it to my arm, her touch cool and soothing.

“Well, it went better than last time.” I said, giving her a rueful grin. “What was it? Like thirty seconds longer?”

“Forty. And I understand why we are doing this, but I hate seeing you hurt.” She inspected the wound closely as it knit shut.

“Bah. It’s nothing.”

Maya shot me a knowing look and raised a finger. “So it does not hurt when I—“

“Okay, it hurts, okay? No touching.” I scooted away from her upraised finger. Despite the healing magic mending the lacerations and tears, my arm still throbbed. “It’s dislocated again,” I admitted. “But realistically, I only need one arm. We don’t need to—“

I gritted my teeth, vision blurring with tears as Maya lifted my injured arm by the wrist and elbow out from my body, then twisted and pulled. It realigned with a sickening crunch.

“Thank… you…” I moaned.

Life magic could fix damaged ligaments, close wounds, and repair organs. I had no idea why it couldn’t also relocate bones. Her cool fingers rested on the back of my neck for a moment and the pain lessened.

She helped me to my feet, careful of my injuries.

“I am going to head to the market as well. Mother will be starting dinner soon. Are you sure you do not wish to join me?” She cocked her head at me. It still shocked me how much she’d changed. The timid, almost neurotically anxious girl I’d met at Barion’s was now confidant and more sure of herself. Her skin, once pockmarked poorly maintained was now smooth. And the way the torchlight light reflected off her hair. She was almost…

Well, probably better not to go down that path.

I looked over at the straw-man, who was intended to be my companion for the evening. The better caster I could be, the better I’d be able to protect myself when needed. I had practiced enough to be considered decent with a sword, perhaps even a danger if that sword was on fire. But I had little to no method of effectively attacking at range.

But still, Kilvius wasn’t wrong. I had been pushing myself lately. And there wouldn’t be many chances for this after, as Maya would be leaving soon. Damn it. There was that weird pang in my chest again.

“You know what,” I said, suddenly, “I’ll come.”

“Really?” Maya’s face brightened, and she gestured with both fists in victory.

“Sure. Things have cooled down. People don’t gawk as much when I go into town. Taking one half-day can’t hurt.”

“There’s so many places you haven’t been yet!” Her smile flagged a bit, and she put her hands on her hips. “But you can’t buy me anything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I held up my hands in surrender. I did have a gift for her but it wasn’t bought, exactly, so that fell in the category of technically true.

Maya recalled Kastramoth into the amulet, and we strolled through the streets of the lower enclave. Bizarrely shaped and slightly horrifying looking fish were laid out on tables. My guide told me they were simply monstrous looking because they grew in lower altitudes with little sunlight, but they still looked like monsters to me.

“You are being judgmental,” Maya said.

“I’m just saying. Look at the teeth on that thing. That’s not how fish are supposed to look. Normal fish look surprised, or like they’ve seen some shit. This fish looks like he is the shit.”

Much to the vendors annoyance, I picked up the hideous fish and grabbed its jaws, opening and closing its mouth, then thrust it at Maya. She shrieked and danced away from me, her laughter echoing across the market.

“Just for that, we are buying it.”

“Ugh.”

We window shopped for a while, and I stealthily added to my mental notes of things that Maya liked. She liked dresses but didn’t think she looked good in them, opting instead for a light form fitting laced jerkin with a long dark skirt below. She wasn’t really into jewelry, with one notable exception: pearls. White pearls, colored pearls, it didn’t matter. If it came out of an oyster, she was all about it. And she had a fascination with instruments, though she’d never learned to play one.

We passed by a store and I did a double-take. It seemed to sell exclusively inks and ink wells. Surely not. An entire store, just for ink?

“Magical ink,” Maya said.

I looked at her, eyebrow raised. “Nope. That’s ridiculous. I don’t believe you.”

She blew air out her nose. “Do not be an ass. It is used for inscription magic. Most commonly in the manufacturing of spell scrolls.”

I thought about it. That made sense on some level. Scrolls, rather notoriously, could be used by anyone regardless of magical ability. They could be incredibly practical, though they were occasionally used for nefarious purposes. Con artists often passed themselves off as magicians through the use of scrolls.

“Is inscription magic tied to a particular element?” I asked, idly.

“Cairn, you are the most power hungry person I know.” Maya rolled her eyes. “And amongst my people, that is quite the accomplishment. You cannot cast a proper fireball, yet intend to learn inscriptions as well?”

“It was just a question.” I said, defensively.

“Your questions have a tendency to be tied to practical applications.”

“Okay, so tell me why it’s impractical.”

“Inscriptions are dependent on the power of the inscriber,” Maya’s voice took on the tone she always used when offering instruction. “You cannot create a scroll of something you cannot already cast.”

Two dots connected in my mind. I’d seen a couple of infernals, usually violets, though occasionally blues and reds with demonic text inscribed on their bodies.

“And is inscription magic… limited to scrolls?” I asked, trying very much to sound innocent.

But Maya knew me too well. She stepped between me and the store window, her face concerned. “Tissue inscriptions are a shortcut, Cairn. A dangerous one. There is talk of them being banned for a reason. It is far too easy to kill yourself, trying to use a high-level inscription your body is not ready for. Not to mention the ink tends to degrade your body in ways that is difficult for even life magic to heal.”

I sighed. “I’ll take your word for it then.”

We stopped by Casikas’s apothecary, so I could pick up my gift for Maya. She eyed me when I emerged with a large box, but did not comment.

The evening dinner was as chaotic as usual. I had a hell of a time scaling the fish, and an even worse time gutting it. Its insides were wormy and dark-colored, and it had terrifying oblong and misshapen organs I’m fairly certain no other fish had.

“Pink child.” Nethtari squeezed past me to her station, where she was chopping fresh vegetables. “Stop butchering that thing for a moment and grab the oil.” I opened the nearby pantry, and grabbed the cask of oil, and passed it to her. She took it, pausing in momentary disgust when she saw my bloody handprint. I grinned at her sheepishly.

Kilvius helped me debone the fish, pointing at trouble areas I would have missed otherwise, and within twenty minutes we were all seated at the table. The artificial sun had begun to set, light entering from the windows casting the scene in dull orange.

Jorra devoured his fish and poked at his vegetables. Kilvius complemented Nethtari and I for the meal, thanking the lord below that a competent chef had finally graced their household. He dodged the napkin thrown his way with practiced ease. Throughout the dinner, they drilled Maya on safety rules for her time in the sanctum.

“Stay away from unmarked entrances.” Nethtari said.

“No matter how innocuous they seem.” Kilvius added.

“We’re not saying don’t explore.” Nethtari said.

“Just be smart about it.” Kilvius finished.

“I’ve got it already.” Maya sighed, exasperated. “You guys have been drilling it into me for the last two weeks. I’ll stay away from unmarked passages. I won’t open any chests until I’ve had them checked for traps by a professional, and I won’t go lower than the gray-crust layer unless I’m in a group.”

“We’d prefer if you waited until these two joined you to do that.” Nethtari looked between Jorra and I. “The lower you go, the rougher it gets. Especially with the damn asmodials running around, riling everything up. Not to mention the mana concentrations can do strange things to your head. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

“I’ll be careful,” Maya promised. “As long as you guys keep Jorra from driving the tutors crazy, and Cairn from tearing his soul out of his body.”

They joked, and laughed, and I laughed with them. But there was a soreness in my heart, one I couldn’t quite put into words. It just felt wrong. There was so much love and companionship between them.

Was this what a normal family looked like?

Nethtari and Kilvius treated me like just another one of their children. It wouldn’t last forever, I had no question of that. After the sanctum, I needed to formalize an alliance with the infernals. Fixing the dimensional gate would help, but it likely wouldn’t be enough. I’d need my father on board—and that would be the hard part. But for now, I tried to enjoy it, ignoring the guilt that crept in—that niggling reminder that I could be doing more—whenever I felt myself enjoying anything.

But no. I would treasure these moments. I’d savor this momentary tranquility, for as long it lasted.

Which, as it turned out, wasn’t very long at all.