CHAPTER 828: FROM THE HILLSIDE

"I know my place. I’ve been fighting this war for years now, never taking a break, no matter how much I’ve wanted to. But you? You’ve been gone for months, traipsing about with that...girl. What could you possibly know about us?" Luke hissed.

Gayron met his gaze, voice rising to match Luke’s. "I know that she talks about you all the time. It’s one of the few times she ever smiles. And I know that when we were wounded and hopeless after being stranded, her soul yearned for comfort. She said she saw me, and I thought she was spying, but she was looking for you. And she didn’t find comfort there, did she. She saw your hands around my neck, your aura worse than any curse demons. No wonder she was scared. Perhaps it was that fear that made everything go wrong and led to her getting hurt and losing herself."

I watched them with wide, terrified eyes, clutching the journal to my chest, not daring to breathe. The two had felt dangerous restrained in the tent, but now, with their auras battling across the camp, I felt like a mouse beneath the eyes of a...a cat? No, a lion. Like prey before a predator. Their eyes were terrifying, their hands twitching within reach of their swords.

"You abandoned her. How was I supposed to react?" Luke spat.

"I abandoned her? Who was the one who forced her to take such a desperate gamble in the first place?" Gayron leaned forward, prodding Luke in the chest with his finger. "You left her before I did. You abandoned her first."

Luke visibly trembled, his hands balled into fists. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Gayron took a step forward, finger pinned to his chest, pushing him back. His voice was soft, but hard as iron.

"You say you want to protect her, but then leave and start a war in a kingdom far away. You say she’s important to you. If that’s true, I would ask where you were when we were fleeing the city. Whose arms was she cradled in? Who shielded her from the enemy with their own body?"

Luke’s eyes flicked down, resting on the spots of sunpurge riddled across Gayron’s upper arms. His expression was unreadable, but his tail curled limply.

"Ugh, why do I even bother? It’s not like you’re capable of anything else. All you care about is your vengeance." Gayron turned with a huff, stalking away.

Luke watched him leave, face pale, hands trembling. He stood there for what felt like forever, eyes smoldering. He turned sharply on his heel, stalking the other direction. The demonkin and beastkin scattered before him, ducking behind tents and avoiding his smoldering gaze.

"Too bad, I was hoping they’d at least draw swords." Jessia sighed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "Still, isn’t it nice to know you have two strong, handsome men arguing over you like that?"

I quivered, hugging the journal tighter. "I...I didn’t like it. I feel icky. Inside here," I said, touching my chest. "I feel like they’re not saying what they want to say. It’s sad."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you think they want to say, then?"

I shook my head. "I don’t know. But they’re both angry and hurt, I think."

"Amazing how perceptive you can be without the bias of memory," she muttered. "Now, I did promise you some fresh air, and we’re certainly not getting that in this smelly camp. Want to take a walk with me?"

I looked around, wrinkling my nose slightly. She was right about that. The demonkin and beastkin around us were filthy. Their clothes were discolored with dried blood, dirt, and food stains. Their hair was long and matted. Those who trimmed beards or hair looked like they did it with the swords and knives they wore at their sides.

Jessia took my hand, leading me away.

"Why are they all here?" I asked.

"They want the same Luke wants. Vengeance against those who oppressed and wronged them. But to be honest, they’ve done little more than get in our way since the beginning. They’re weaker than demons, and not even half as obedient. It seems like Constance and Elva are always breaking up a fight somewhere, and that’s when they’re not at our tent flap begging for more supplies."

"You don’t sound like you like them. Why not ask them to leave?"

She hesitated, glancing off the way Luke had left. "Good question. I’d throw them all out if it were up to me. Or feed them to the demons."

I gasped. "That’s terrible!"

"No. That’s war."

Her answer sent a chill down my spine. War. If what I’d learned from the scattered memories I’d recovered thus far, I was part of that war, too. The thought was difficult to believe, but trying to understand my decisions without any memory of why I’d chosen this path was vain. That didn’t stop me from worrying about it.

Jessia led me up a hill overlooking the camp, stopping several times to let me catch my breath. My side ached from panting, and the time I could walk grew shorter and shorter. My forehead beaded with sweat, and the journal felt sticky in my hands.

"Why can’t we just teleport?" I asked, leaning against a tree as we reached the summit a few hundred feet above the camp.

"Didn’t feel like it," she said.

Jessia sat on the ground, leaning back on her hands. The demonkin camp formed a forest of dirty brown canvas surrounding the hill, spreading almost a half mile away. Beyond that, the land was filled with hordes of monsters, from towering people made of sharp swords to dragon-like lizards with long claws and fire coming out of their scales. The demons clustered together according to their attribute, snapping, snarling, and occasionally fighting each other.

The air shimmered over their heads, tainted like a sheen of oil over water. I sat down, a wave of nausea washing over me.

"You can feel it?" Jessia asked, tone suspiciously casual.

"It’s sickening. And wrong. I don’t like it," I said.

"Infernal Mana. The demons use it to cast their magic."

"Magic..." I looked down at the journal in my lap. Something stirred within me, and I repeated the word, voice holding a hint of wonder. "Books have magic, don’t they? I think that’s why I wanted to read this."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Some do, but definitely not that one. I can’t imagine that one has anything other than blood, angst, and vengeance."

"I used to have magic, didn’t I? The way everyone’s talking...they seemed surprised I can’t anymore."

"Who says you can’t? If you can feel infernal mana, you should be able to feel divine. If you can call your mana, you might be able to bring back more memories."

"Divine mana? Is that like True Mana?"

Jessia’s hands twitched. She continued looking into the distance, but I got the distinct impression she was staring at me. Her chest barely rose and fell, as if she was holding her breath.

"True mana? Where did you hear about that?" she asked in a strained voice.

I touched my horn, rubbing the seam where it rose from my scalp. "It’s blurry, but I remember a woman, only...she wasn’t. I don’t know how to describe it, but she was warm and kind. She had gold eyes. Like mine." I stared wistfully at the horizon, a strange warmth in my chest. I had seen this woman many times, though her name, nature, and anything more than shadows eluded me.

Jessia coughed lightly. "And the true mana?"

"She wanted to give it to everyone. To break the cycle," I whispered, closing my eyes. The memories flowed in a jumble, the words coming out on their own. "Something’s broken, Jessia. I don’t remember what, but she wanted to fix it."

"True mana. So that’s her plan," Jessia whispered.

She stood abruptly, startling me from my thoughts.

"Thank you, Xiviyah. And please, try to find yourself again. I almost feel bad stealing secrets like this. Almost."

She gave me a wink and vanished in a puff of darkness, leaving me staring wide-eyed, my mouth parted in surprise.

"Jessia...?" I squeaked, looking around. "Where are you? Are you teasing me?"

My breathing grew shallow as panic constricted my chest. There was no sign of the woman. Even her scent was fading, as was the darkness that had hidden me from the demonkin. Bereft of its cloak, the soft gold light that had filled the tent began to glow, covering the hillside in flecks of shining gold.

A strange ripple crossed the tide of demons in the distance. I shivered as the feeling of countless eyes fell upon me. A dark shape rose from their ranks, flying on wings of shadow. It streaked toward me, drawing a black line across the sky. Its eyes glinted, crimson with hunger, and a dreadful screech emitted from its throat. Now that it was closer, I could make out six legs and terrible claws, with a dark hide covered by bristling fur.

Dozens more chased after it, roaring and squawking as they struggled to be the first to reach me. I tried to stand, tried to run, but my exhausted legs refused to listen. I was paralyzed on the spot, helpless to do naught but wait as it tucked its wings and dove toward me. I squeezed my hands into fists and let out a strangled whimper.

"Somebody, please...help me."