The beasts were coming over the horizon, and the damnable demon had left her. Before she could even reorient herself from the grips of her dreams, Lily had found herself alone on the plain. Its black figure had been rapidly fleeing off into the distance, and now she was alone.

Over on the closest hill, she heard the baying of hounds. Turning her head in surprise and shock, she saw the tusked dogs charging towards her. Their ruby-red eyes flickered with malevolence, spittle already flying from their toothy jaws.

Lily felt incredibly tired, a weariness settling into her bones. Could not a day pass without death trying to court her? Romance truly was fatiguing. Without magic, without traps—such was her position. Alas, she would have to greet with suitors by hand—truly tiresome.

Two daggers twirled in her hands as she felt the battle fever begin to grip her. “Bastards.” she shouted, eying the black hounds gleefully. “I’ll make you bleed, you crow-cursed dogs!” Her voice seemed to have shocked them, startled them somewhat. They halted in their charge, yapping furiously and dancing back at the sight of her blades. After two breaths, the largest in front let out a deep-throated howl and ran straight for her, the others following their alpha with religious fervor.

Letting out a toothy grin, she sent a dagger flying with deadly precision, the steel burying itself in the front leg of the largest dog. The beast gave a wail and toppled, its leg collapsing underneath itself. The momentum of its charge sent it flying forwards, and it rolled three more body lengths before coming to a bloody stop. Its companions, unfazed and claimed by bloodlust, merely hopped over their struggling alpha with short barks.

They were too close, coming too fast for her to pull out another dagger, so instead she crouched down, one hand wielding a blade, the other lightly on the ground. The closest dog was near enough for her to count its teeth, those wickedly curved, yellow hooks. And as it leapt in a frenzied rush, she let out a high-pitched shout in challenge.

It bore down in a graceful arc, claws out stretched and those slashing tusks glinting in the sunlight. Yet in the final moment, as it was about to pull her flesh into a gentle caress, she pushed herself upwards with all the strength that she could muster. Claws sank into her shoulder, fangs tearing into her back. Still, upwards she pushed with hopeless ferocity. Upwards, she went with her dagger, and downwards came the dog. The weight of its body, the power of its charge, they all drove the beast further onto her blade, and she buried the blade into its belly with a savage yell.

The creature had struck her on the left, its charge offsetting her balance, and the duo fell to the dirt. Its blow had missed her throat, for she had lunged forwards instead of up, and it had instead found her along the back and shoulder. Those tusks had gouged deep wounds down her back, glancing off the bone. Its claws had raked wounds along chest and arm. She was fortunate to have been struck at an angle; her flesh would have broken had she taken it fully from the front.

She gripped her dagger desperately as she fell, knowing that it would be the only way she lived. Yet the couple fell awkwardly, and it wrested at her hand and fingers. Her wrist twisted, her palm slickened by blood and viscera, and she lost her blade in the belly of the beast.

Quickly, she rolled on instinct, struggling to orient herself and rise to her feet. Street fighting had taught her to never stay down, and those thieves and rapists were never even armed with claws and fangs. Yet as she rose to her feet, she saw the hound rising to its own. Blood poured from its stomach in a stream, its muzzle stained crimson and its tusks carrying ragged bits of flesh from her shoulder.

She was unarmed and wounded, but she let out a defiant howl. “Come here, you crow-cursed piece of shit!” she screamed, her vision blurring red as blood dripped from her forehead. She goaded the dog, knowing that it was dying. She, too, was wounded, but hers were not fatal. This beast’s life rested in an hourglass, and only three grains were left in the top.

It growled in anger, lunging forward in a desperate attempt, but she danced backwards and to the side, twisting away from those groping tusks. Yet when it landed, it lashed out with its arm, opening its wound further in order to land a blow on the side of her arm. She screamed as the claws bit into her flesh, rending through the muscle with unfortunate ease.

A whiplike tail struck her leg as the beast turned, cracking across her flesh and sending her down onto one knee. A bitter cold filled her heart as she realized she had underestimated her opponent, that the beast had more stamina than she had been expecting. It would die, still, but it would take her with her. A true tragedy, the two lovers buried together.

As it closed in for the final lunge, the hound let out a sudden yelp. Blinded by blood and weary with pain, she did not know why it paused. She merely saw the hilt of her dagger offered before her, and she dragged it with desperate strength. Her hands closed tightly around it, securely, and she slashed upwards with a confident blow. The blade found itself in the beast’s throat, blood fountaining in a scarlet spray. She fell back, her last energy spent in this taxing duel. Above her, a shadow loomed.

“So I’ve to pay the blood coin, eh?” she muttered, hands falling limp as light blinded her eyes. Her vision was bleary, her head throbbing with pain. Her heart seemed moments away from bursting, her lungs burning as she dragged more air in. It was not a peaceful death, by any means.

Done in by a dog, she mused almost hysterically, coughing out a coarse chuckle. How laughable.

Yet as she waited for death to claim her, much as a proper bride would, her heart began to falter with every passing moment. Longer and longer the time passed, yet still she lived. With a mutter, she opened her eyes, wondering what all the delay was about. She found a figure framed by sunlight over her.

The damnable demon.

And as she looked upwards, seeing its claws squeezed around the throat of the dog that had nearly taken her life, she saw a ragged grin spread across its face.

“Fun?”it asked with bloodstained fangs, glinting as they matched its one red eye. With a short motion, it let the corpse fall to the ground. The fur on its chest was stained and torn from cuts, and it ran a black tongue over its muzzle.

“Sworn stars, what do you mean, fun?” she groaned, sitting up with an effort.

Before her, she saw three more corpses littering the ground. They were grossly mutilated, one missing a leg, another with a tusk torn out. Vicious cuts ran along their legs and backs, evidence of hard battle. And as the last one stopped kicking, they all proved to be dead.

“You killed them?” she hissed, looking upwards at the demon, and it shrugged a scaly shoulder.

“Were weak. Fast. But soft.” it responded, gesturing to the corpse with her dagger still buried in its stomach. “I cut. Rip.” With a casual motion, its flexed its clawed hand open and closed, the blood splatter barely visible against the deep black coloration.

Suddenly, it looked to her,gesturing to the right with a tilt of its head. “Up.” it asserted plainly. “Need run.” Almost as if accentuating her point, a bubble of black ran up out of the corpse of the dog. It writhed and twisted, growing from the beast’s stomach to cover its throat and head. It spread quickly, wrapping the entire body with smooth, undulating motions. Skal’ai, came the thought, unbidden and unavoidable. The mass of black twitched and bulged as the shadow devoured the carcass. “Quickly.” the demon growled, its neck tense with something like fear.

She rose to unsteady feet, the muscles in her leg protesting from where they had been struck. “I don’t know if I can walk.” she murmured, her vision growing hazy as she suddenly toppled from a bout of vertigo.

A strong arm caught her, hoisting her up. There were hard scales underneath her stomach, and she knew that the demon was carrying her. With an easy grace, it began to take off in a loping run.

“Wait…” she muttered, her vision already beginning to fray at the edges. My bag. My dagger. They were fleeting thoughts, and her body betrayed her. Her mind soon lulled, and the rocking of the demon’s gait teased her mind into sleep.

Yet that sleep was dreamless, for she could not rest. She woke intermittently, seeing but not quite awake in that dazed half-state of consciousness. She saw the brown grass pass beneath her, flying by as they rustled like waves in an ocean. She saw the setting sun as it streaked the sky, sending all manner of color alight as it departed underneath the horizon. She saw the mountains in the distance, massive walls of stone—unmoving and ancient beyond compare. She saw the distant river, trickling with green-blue water. She saw them in flashes, interrupted by sleep and bouts of pain as her body howled in agony. Then, one last time, she fell asleep and was not roused.

It was a blissful, dreamless sleep. Heat blossomed from her chest to her legs, and warmed her like a fire. When she finally woke, it came as no surprise to see the flame before her. It did, however, surprise her to find herself in a thicket. They must have come far from the center of the Outlands for trees to grow; they must be close to the river, maybe even to the mountainous Pikes.

The demon was eating in front of her, tearing voraciously into the haunches of some prey beast it must have hunted. When she woke it looked up with a flickering eye before returning to its meal. “Wake.” it grunted in between gulps, while tearing at the muscle.

“Aye.” she managed with dry lips, her throat parched. “A fire?” she asked.

“Sister weak. Cold. Need.” it replied simply, the words harsh and guttural.

“What...what do you mean, sister?” she groaned, feeling a headache coming on, Her head swam and her thoughts struggled to piece themselves together. Its words were like silk, like water in her mind, and she struggled to hear their meaning and not lose herself in the sound. “Why do you call me that.”

“Same as me.” it stated, as if it was obvious. It gestured towards its face at the Maes. “Born from earth.”

Lily heard the meaning for that easily enough, and it cut through her scattered thoughts like the cold bite of strong steel. Finally, she seemed to understand what it was saying. “Five and three curses, what are you talking about?” she demanded in confusion, shaking her head. “The Maes? The Maes are symbols of magical heritage. They show an aptitude for magic and spells.”

Now the demon was confused as well, that much was evident from the scowl it wore—a gash that cut through a face carved from stone. “Magic?”

She waved her arms wildly, as if the movement would make her thoughts all the clearer. “Spells. Conjury. Incantations. It’s all magic.” Confusion burned in her blood. How was it possible that the demon could make a pact without even knowing what magic and mahji was?

“The wards I summoned, the crystals I used—it was all magic.” Despite her obvious words, the creature still wore that irritating look of confusion on its face.

Lily pointed at the ground, pointed at the trees and the sky and everything nearby. “The pulse of the land. The energy around you. It’s all magic. Blood and bones, you used it before, in our fight.”

The demon shook its head in disagreement and she found her fists clenched tight from frustration. “Dead. Inside. I feel. I use. Command.”

Her pulse froze in her blood then as a sudden realization dawned on her. “You use dead spirits? You’re a Shai’mon? I thought there were none of those left.” Its blank face showed that her comments had only confused it more, but she pressed on without pausing. “And a demon too, sworn stars. How—how did you learn to channel? How did you learn this?”

It pointed a black claw to the ground. “Earth. Told me. Born from earth.”, it growled as if it were obvious.

She clenched her hands in frustration, clawing furrows into the dirt. Her head hurt. “What are you talking about? The earth? It told you? Blood and bones, demon, you aren’t making any sense.”

It growled now, growing irritated. “Earth spoke. During birth. Spoke of spirits. Taught me.”

Something clicked in her head, the pieces falling into place. She gasped in shock, eyes growing wide. “You must have had a Communion.