Name: Nil

Race: Demon

Type: Transformed Deviant Soul

Age: Immortal – 5years, 4months.

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.3— 96.9esq

[Available Essence Points— 0]

Strength: 17

Agility: 56

Wisdom: 15

Abilities: [Faithless Absorption], [Faithless Mimicry]

[Available Trait Points— 7]

Traits: [Calloused Exterior]- Lvl.2, [Telepathy]- Lvl.3

Ascension Perks: [Reais Fiend]

Spells: Nil

Patron: Nil

Crystal Essence: [Crimson]- Lvl.3— 96.9esq

The crystals I absorbed from the hunt only took me a level higher, a disappointment since I thought taking a Blood Orange meant I’d become one. Couldn’t be farther from the truth. Besides, I should have known when Hargoil handed it over to me, he’s a Crimson just as well as I am, a hint stronger with the experience to back it up.

A lot of Essence was immediately used up to fix my body. Closing the wound in my centre, bringing back my arm and taking care of all the bruises and broken parts I’ve been running around with. It took a while but I’m back at full health and with a stronger, faster body.

Absorbing the Blood Orange did more than take me off the edge of death, it strengthened my body in more ways than one. With enough Essence Points to spare I upped my strength and gave my wisdom a little boost, enough that I immediately begun to sense the world in a new way.

There are thin threads waving through the atmosphere mixed in with the Essence the Soul Crystal absorbs. I’ve been picking at them, the reaction so far is tame, not much happens when I successfully get one in my grip. I get more of a reaction from the pool of mana I found within my Soul Crystal, mixed in yet separate from Essence and Esq.

It’s not too unlike Essence, wholly unfamiliar and largely unquantifiable but I can sense there’s a connection between how the two exist. My control over Essence comes rather naturally but with mana…

“Aargh!” I growl eyes flying open as my delicate hold on it slips for the thousandth time.

Sometimes it's an oily pool and I have to pull on the thin film covering it. I can sense it bulge within me, answering my call albeit sluggish. And then it loses form, becoming hard and thick or even more slippery.

Grinding my teeth I break yet another of the rocks beside me. Gerim’s been keeping me in an igloo-shaped rock house on the far side of the city. I call it a house only for my comfort. In truth, all it is a narrow space with a hole in the ceiling letting light in.

I have only my privacy and the rocks I gathered for training. The rocks serve as targets for destruction when I’m pissed at how little progress I’ve made over five years but also when I practice shapeshifting.

There’s a delicate balancing act that needs to be done every time I shapeshift into something that isn’t a usual part of my body. A fat, muscled arm can tip me over and a light stinger can have my aim out of order.

The past year hasn’t been very entertaining. I’d thought Calridian would allow lax movement in and out of his city if it meant he got his piece of Essence. But according to Gerim, I haven’t been around long enough to be trusted to leave and return.

It’s a sentiment I understand, Calridian can’t have someone getting bigger than him under his canopy. But the length of time I need to wait and work for the giant demon I haven’t since laid eyes on doesn’t seem worth it.

‘I could be much stronger than this within a decade. All it takes is one or three good hunts.’

But even one unpermitted hunt results in being barred entry and as I’ve seen, even hunted by the very group you work with. Gerim’s warnings were as sinister as ever, the double meaning hidden behind his dark eyes and grin.

‘I know he wants to eat me.’

Still, he’s good to work with, he’s gotten me this little hovel at the far side of the city where for some reason no one comes close. I understand he did so because he wants to avoid me getting killed in a brawl, it's something I’m coming to appreciate and loathe. If dumb demons don’t see me, then how else am I going to get crystals?

“There are a number of ways.”

My head whips to the side and I scramble to my feet at Hargoil’s sudden appearance. The tall beetle demon lets off a disturbing version of a smile on his damaged face. There are still lines cracking through his centre from where Gerim pounded him into the ground.

The first thing Gerim did that day after the hunt was pound Hargoil into the ground. I doubt anyone saw it coming, not me, not Hargoil, not the silent twins that follow him around. I’ve seen Hargoil around from time to time hanging around Gerim when he visits to ‘mentor’ me on training or rather just check if I’m still alive. His wounds healed faster than mine even though he didn’t absorb the Blood Orange, I figure it’s because he’s some levels ahead of me as a Crimson.

He’s still hurt, some parts of him tell the story of the beating clear as day with broken and chipped carapace, but it’s not as bad as it was. His thin mouth opening crunches on a bony finger, there’s so much blood on it I can’t tell if it's human or demon. He struts into my hovel, tucking his head down so it doesn’t scrap against the low roof.

“I can show you how to get Essence and magic.” His psychic aura and posturing boast confidence in his words. “I’m surprised you didn’t come to me all this time, I thought you’d have the common sense to see I’m the only one willing to help you.”

Since gaining [Telepathy]- Lvl.3 I’ve become more adept at hiding my surface and subsurface thoughts, but it doesn’t mean anything in the face of someone like Hargoil or Gerim. Intelligent demons that certainly have levels higher than I do on the trait.

Hargoil peering at the surface at my thoughts feeds his confidence, “You’re grateful for the Orange, aren’t you? Felt nice, the first Orange always is. Personally, I can’t wait for my first Maroon.” He chortles.

As he kicks aside some of my rocks he hums and I take the chance to ask the question he’s likely already heard, “What are you talking about? How else can I get crystals?”

He chitters, his mouth cracking open to tut and shudders as he wags his finger, “Not crystals, Essence. There’s a difference, isn’t there?”

I blink, “Uh…I think so?”

The twisted look on his face turns wrought, “There is.” He says firmly, “I’ll tell you all about the difference and how to get both later, for now, we have a mission. It’s why I’m here. Gerim sent me.” He punctuates Gerim’s name with a thick vile of loath and steps out of my hovel, standing at full height outside.

It’s a sunnier day out in the open, the miracle light that illuminates the desert divide warms me as I question and follow after Hargoil, “What’s the mission? Did Calridi-”

“Shush!” Hargoil hisses, fists balled and Essence leaking as he fumes, “Don’t talk to me about Calridian.” He sneers.

Not one to look for trouble, I nod, “Right, not happening again.”

He huffs and struts off into the main city and we leave my hovel behind, “Calridian thinks he’s better than us, just because he’s Maroon and we’re not.” He scoffs, his long strides getting longer, forcing me to pick up the pace, “I’m not too far from Orange, I can feel it. I’ve accomplished just as much as any of the new captains too, I deserve my own squad!”

I’m not sure what to think or even react to. The politics of the demon squads Calridian employs to do his bidding and their captains aren’t something I’ve bothered looking into.

“Uh…yes, I’m sure you do.” I end up agreeing.

Hargoil snorts, “It won’t matter much, once the Demon Lord shifts his eyes here.”

That catches my ear, “The Demon Lord? What do you know about him?”

The Demon Lord is the demon sitting above even Calridian, the one in charge of several other Maroon level demons and leading a war against the other two Lords of the divides. Since coming to Reais I haven’t heard anything tangible about the Demon Lord. only that he’s far superior to Calridian and the house-sized demons I met at the line.

All that I’ve overheard from leaking thoughts and conversations is that he could be a she. Many of the insect demons running around believe the Demon Lord is some sort of hive queen that birthed them all.

That only brought me to wonder whether demons are capable of reproduction at all. I should think so; they enjoy fornicating so much anyway.

“I don’t care whether they’re a man or a woman and you shouldn’t either. What you should be focused on is how to suck Calridian dry of whatever power he has to offer and align yourself with the next.”

For whatever reason I scowl at the thought of Hargoil’s fickle loyalties, “Jumping masters huh, like a para- I mean…part-timer.”

He scoffs and hacks out some strange sound through his mouth, the horrid sound could only be laughter, “I don’t mind you thinking I’m a parasite, I am, and I will be until I get what I want.”

“A team of your own?”

He comes to a full stop in our walk, turns to stare at me and shakes his head, “Think…bigger. Stick with me, do as I say and you’ll be much bigger too…human.”

“I’m not…human.” I’m not sure why I jump to correct the obvious taunt but he leaves me to ponder on his vague wordings and promises.

When I catch up to him again he’s walked into one of the worn-down ‘buildings’ of the city. Inside I find him meeting with Gerim and the silent two. I still haven’t caught their names but their silence unnerves me.

The building is filled with demons of various sizes and levels, but very few are as weak as the two or me for that matter. Countless eyes turn to me as I walk in, Essence running through my limbs, ready for any mad fiend that may think it wise to launch itself at me.

The inside is much the same as the outside, a pile of corpses behind some stone door. A large demon without an icon deals in special parts from the psychic atmosphere in the room. The demon is an angry red worm with thick appendages protruding from its side and a long snout that slurps up some fluid in a cup. It pauses its slurping to stare at me and I prepare my mental blocks for the obvious incoming intrusion.

It’s barely a success and my head rings in pain. It doesn’t make another attempt, but it does introduce itself, “You’re Gerim’s latest pet, I can see why you’re keeping to yourself.” Its snout pulls on the fluid and it shudders. “Good luck out there, Calridian is a real slave driver.”

Gerim grabs my arm and pulls me out, yelling back at the demon, “Keep away from it, Calridian’s orders.”

“Of course! Whose orders would I bother following!” It yells back but Gerim’s already shoved me out of the building.

“What’s this place?”

Gerim growls and tosses me a desert cloak, “Don’t tear this one.”

“It’s a place of trade, Nil…your name is Nil isn’t it?” Hargoil peers behind Gerim, answering the question in his place. The other two beetles, far shorter than Hargoil and almost as tall as I, stand by his sides.

“Nil, yes.”

“Come, let’s go. We have to get Calridian what he wants.” Gerim orders and starts off without offering any further explanation.

I turn to Hargoil and he continues to exude smug as he answers, “We’re hunting a few demons for their special components. Calridian’s at it with his spells again.”

“Spells, wait…we’re hunting demons for parts? Do we get to keep the crystals?”

Hargoil hacks out that horrid sound again, “If we survive.”