Nagrij
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Soul Fire Sale, chapter 16.
🕑 Added 2025-11-08 20:42:19 +0000 UTCHello. How about a chapter of SFS? Please enjoy, if you would.
I huddled over, the stink of the place forgotten. There were some very interesting things diagrammed here - and by interesting I meant horrifying. What first seemed like a nature study from an anatomist looking for curiosities had resolved itself into a chamber of horrors the like one would see in a body horror movie.
The user of this cabin was very detached and clinical as he wrote of taking different animals and stitching them together, in some cases along with humans. There had to be hundreds of experiments here.
There was even a set of papers detailing how one would make zombies of members of the ape family and how to animate them. The same apes we'd fought a few nights ago included.
None of the journals or notes were signed in any way, and all of them were penned neatly, with nearly flawless handwriting in the common language for humanity. However, there was no way the thing that had done this was human.
Literally, in any way. My nose itched with the stinging stink of the place. A stink of something that I could only decide was otherworldly - not from here at all.
It wasn't just my imagination, either. Oliver had an improvised mask over his mouth and nose, made from a handkerchief and a few of my nicer smelling herbs. It made him look like a bandit as he ransacked the place, only sparing a glance or two for the research here that had so captured my attention.
Clearly, he wasn't liking it either, but I was made of sterner stuff.
Loam was the sternest of us all; she didn't care about smells, even her own. I'd had to make her bathe in the snow outside to nip that little problem off in the bud. She'd looked uncomfortable with the order too, which was odd. Usually, she liked water - to the point that she drank enough for any five people.
The cold was just enough to touch us, now. Now that we weren't moving, and the longer I looked at all this, the more my unease grew.
If this person, this thing, came back, we were sitting ducks here in the most obvious sprung trap to exist.
I wanted to trust Oliver with it, but he couldn't do the one thing that might ensure we could turn the trap on the person before said person fireballed the cabin or worse.
Then again, while Loam could do it, Loam could only look one direction. If we were still in the tree line, this would be an easy choice; I was no druid, but nature itself could be asked for certain easy favors. However, rock and snow were not substances I knew how to talk to, and the wood around here was very dead.
There was no way to clean up all of what we'd done, but there was a way to hide and wait, even now. Just on the off chance that whoever was here wouldn't immediately fireball the cabin and run. The only question was, should we do it or not?
Do it, or not?
Maybe when I was done transcribing this mess - I wanted it all, or as much as I could get. I could still get the place ready for it.
"Loam, I need you to use your power, right here." I sketched out a square of the warped boards posing as cabin flooring with my foot, giving her an idea of dimensions. "Soften the rock under this and bring it up, like a hatch. Try not to break or snap the boards here."
Loam nodded and stepped up; with a gesture, the boards creaked, popping up in uneven chunks, with the stone coming up after, forming an almost perfect hatch. Just as I'd planned it in my head.
The now loose floorboards could be hammered together and settled on the hatch made, and then we could take cover underneath it. Anyone looking casually into the cabin wouldn't see us and be encouraged to walk in. Anyone just randomly dumping fire spells in would miss us because the now stone trapdoor would insulate us from those, and most other destructive spells that could be used.
It wouldn't be comfortable for us, but we could do it. We had rations for days.
The excess rock flowed away and moved out of the cracks in the old building, out of sight. Loam was reading my mind or something similar now, without a doubt. With the excess stone under the snow, we were one step closer.
I was almost certain that whoever this was, they could fly. This high up, the snow would be year round, and even with the wind blowing, there should be some prints somewhere. So either the person had left months ago... or they didn't walk.
Maybe I was reading too much into it. It felt like a tenuous thought at best... but it felt right.
Oliver took a look while I continued sorting. "Wow. She really went all out."
Now I was curious. not curious enough to stop, however. Time was ticking. "How so?"
"Your golem made an actual basement. Not a huge one or anything, but there's enough space to crawl around in, for all three of us."
Good. "The only concern then is if it sounds hollow when it gets stepped on. I can fix that if you can't."
A good auditory illusion to make the floor over us sound like the rest of the floor when stepped on would be easy enough, and hard for most spell casters to detect unless they were looking for it.
"Sure. I'll let you do it."
Right, he was a mage, the universal type of spell caster. He could do anything, given level and lessons.
I refreshed my life detection spell, taking a moment between one page and the next of what could only be classified as vivisection diagrams... these of wolves. There hadn't been any wolves around the cabin, either in animate or inanimate form, so where had these come from? They did seem to be older than the rest, maybe, and they were collected loosely in an unbound book.
I was running out of paper, and while I could maybe make some ink if pressed, I was running out of that as well. I sure as hell wasn't going to use blood, like whoever had inked these pages had.
It was more tempting than I should admit, but Loam had taught me that my blood held power, after all.
Could I get away with simply collecting the papers? Taking them? I'd wanted to leave as little evidence of my presence initially as possible... but really, that chance had well and truly flown as soon as the first zombie thing popped up. Even now those corpses were frozen to the earth again, only half buried by snow and mostly impossible for us to move. Even if we could use Loam as a pack mule, the drifts would give it away.
Hell with it. "Help me. Let's just snag it all."
Oliver grinned. "Now we're talking."
"Don't get too happy. We're still going to need to stay here, at least for awhile."
My compatriot stopped yanking stuff off the wall long enough to turn and ask why.
"Because if whatever did this is near here and comes back, what do you think they are going to do? What conclusion are they going to come to?"
Really? Why the confused look? It should be obvious. "Whoever it is, is going to assume the humans from the nearest settlement was here and stole their research. Which means, if they care about it, they will go there first looking for it."
The light dawned across Oliver's face. "Right, and we should prevent that, here if at all possible."
I nodded.
"I don't think anyone;s been here for a long time," Oliver ventured after a minute. "There's no sign of recent meals, or cooking, or washing. No sign of... spoor, and no outhouse around, in a freezing place like this."
"I don't know. They could be walking outside or something, but you're right on the food. This cabin bears few signs of being lived in. But we're supposed to be facing demons here: do demons eat, or eat food? Do they crap? Do they drink water, or tea?"
The truth is, I hadn;t asked, and I really should have. There was plenty in the books I'd been given about how strong the demons were and their combat habits, but precious little about their ecology. I would have to correct that at my earliest convenience.
Right, I'd almost forgotten: "Loam. I need you to alter the hatch here, like this."
I sent her an image of the clay she'd made the hatch growing up and out, cradling the now loose boards of the floor. It would be a little noticeable if someone was very observant, but we didn't have spare nails, and I couldn't think of any better way to secure that wood to the hatch and make it look natural.
The smell must be getting to me.
I came out of my minor brain funk as wood creaked and crackled; Loam had done as I asked, and more importantly, how I thought, and now the hatched looked like the rest of the floor - only upright, because it was a hatch.
I resumed grabbing all the papers within reach. :"Excellent work Loam."
For a moment, my creation's face morphed into a smile of what could only be described as pure joy... then, like always, the smile fell and left nothing of itself behind.
Wait, what was that? Something....
Oliver perked up. "Something's coming. Hurry!"
He suited action to words and dove for the hatch. I decided to trust. "Loam, follow me!"
I joined the man, and saw instantly what he had been talking about before; the space wasn't large, but it was deep. Deep enough for me to stand upright, even if Loam would have to hunch over. Oliver was already crouched, looking up with some expectation and dread.
"Loam, close the hatch. Carefully."
Loam looked at me, blank.
Right, don't panic. I pantomimed grabbing the edge of the hatch, and pulling it closed. "Like this."
Loam grabbed the edge and did as I asked, swiftly pulling the clay together to meet it's like. Thankfully, the noise made wasn't loud.
It was pitch black, and I realized that I should have told loam to make some air holes. And a heater; if we had to stay here for long, then even we would freeze.
I didn't dare talk, and I couldn't pantomime anything because it was too dark, so I'd just have to stew over whatever it was that Oliver detected. I'd felt something, but I wasn't sure what it was?
Unless I was fooling myself now, I'd felt a presence... and a vague sense of what I could only describe as kinship. Something that was only getting stronger as the seconds ticked by.
Maybe I wasn't insane? Well, not insane about this anyway.
I heard the sounds of feet hitting the snow right outside the door; then a voice, a deep baritone, announced: "Sloppy."
The sound of boots hitting the wooden floorboards vibrated to me next, the noise clear enough. Then: "If you wanted my research, you only had to ask. I would have shared it with you."
A few more steps in. "Come out please, I know you're here somewhere. Let us talk, in the manner of men."
He sounded dry, erudite. A learned man. But whatever he was, he wasn't human: not even close.
That didn't matter now. What mattered the most was that he wasn't leaving. "Loam, open it and jump out."
Loam slammed the hatch open and jumped, hitting the ceiling briefly before coming back down, her sword at the ready.
That was more than distraction enough; I followed in her wake, using my broom to float up and out silently.
Even so, after the initial shock, the... being's eyes flicked to me.
He was tall, with blonde hair and a chiseled face that fell a touch shy of being handsome. He looked to be middle age, and was wrapped up in furs like a typical hunter in winter.
What drew the eye most though, was what made him even more tall; there were two rather large horns jutting from his temples, single point curled affairs that had that ringed sort of growth some animals sported, and not the smooth growth of deer.
The sense of kinship, the feeling of what could only be the demon before me, grew stronger for a moment before tapering off into the background, now that I was aware of it.
The demon himself took a half step backward, his eyes on me. "Ah. I had wondered who among us would be so bold. I should have realized. Yet it has been so very long. Greetings, little one."
"Greetings. You know of me."
The demon put his foot back down... putting himself back in easy striking range. "Of course. You are a witch, known as the 'little sister' among us, or the heretic ones. You share origins with us, yet choose to serve humanity and its' causes. Well, I suppose you might be one of those who choose neutrality. Are you one of those?"
For a moment there, I heard a faint touch of actual emotion in his voice; without the experience of Loam, I don't think I'd have ever caught it. Hope, I was certain.
"I'm afraid I'm not. I came here tracking down some undead that attacked a village farther down the mountain, and I was summoned in a human ritual. What do you mean, I share origins with you?"
The demon moved, to the side. Ever so slightly away from Loam, and closer to one of the tables, he made a show of looking at a few of the papers I hadn't lifted yet.
Oliver wasn't visible yet; he must be hanging out under the lip of the cellar we'd made, out of sight.
"We were birthed from the void itself, or so our legends say. Formed from the emptiness and will itself, the perfect predator. Some, of course, are both closer to and farther from that ideal than others. You are far more close to our prey than many of us, which allows some of you to get... confused."
"I was summoned here, actually. No void for me, I can remember vividly my time as a human on another world."
There was no danger telling him this. In telling him anything at all I wanted; but if I could dig a little myself, why shouldn't I?
There was a hint of incredulity in his tone, but almost none of it showed on his face. "Truly? You are one of those summoned? How very curious. I should like to hear of your experiences - yet your claim to remember your humanity makes it clear in which direction this encounter is to head."
He started casting. Couldn't he feel it? I could, this close. "Loam, kill that being."
I pointed, but Loam was already in motion. The demon had to move to the side, away from the door and closer to death.
He was fast, but Oliver was faster since he'd been waiting on this. The glowing bolts slammed into the monster in human-seeming, causing it to stumble; it had to block Loam's blow rather than simply dodge it, if it even could have done so without the interference.
Loam's sword cut into the demon's arm, but not deeply. I'd have to fix that myself, and soon. Loam did manage to protect me, eating the demon's spell herself by simple virtue of being in front of me; the beam slammed right into her.
I was forced to duck as parts of it went right through her. There was no time to worry about that now; it was time to attack... and hope this attack worked.
The main issue was I needed to touch the thing in order to attack it in this way, and I was certain I was going to be bad at that.
The demon caught my leading hand; yanking me forward into him. This was less than ideal, yet it did get me close enough; my fingers managed to touch his hand on the way; just before he backhanded me.
I was on the floor, against the wall. The demon was jinking, lit up by what could only be a lightning bolt. the same lightning which was even now lighting everything flammable on fire.
Loam was up, and this time her sword struck true.
Even with her strength, however, she was having issues, so I needed to help.
Whoa. A little wobbly. I felt no pain, so I was probably fine. This time my hand slapped Loam on her back, even as the demon was finally coming out of it and working his hand around, trying to keep Loam's sword point from entering his chest...more than it already had, at any rate.
My buff was faster, and Loam's sword, now backed by the best and most short-lived death magic I could impart, went straight through as if the thing were hot butter.
Loam didn't hesitate, but ripped up, nearly sawing the demon in half. The thing started to sparkle, to vanish out of existence.
Then Loam ripped down, finishing the job she started. The sparkles, the teleport, stopped.
Right, that was how this encounter was supposed to go. This demon was a small fry - at least by our standards. I'd wager level twenty at best according to the system used. Though any other group challenging this thing would likely have died, we were in little danger, and that meant I could tell him anything, just to get him talking.
Since he wouldn't be leaving alive.
Oliver summed it up best: "Well, that was easier than I thought it'd be."
"I was quite certain he was a necromancer, if classes apply to demons. Which meant he would be light on protections. Our victory wasn't guaranteed; after all, he could have run off, but I was certain we'd beat him if he stayed."
I didn't see wings, which raised the question of how it flew here. And he had to have flown here since we detected it before it walked in and its' feet had crunched the snow outside in a clear walking pattern that we heard. Necromancers were not known for flight, the lore jammed into my head told me. Then again, neither were witches.
"Good call; I knew you thought fast, but all that in a moment is impressive."
It wasn't in a moment? I mean we knew what the thing was doing here the moment we walked close enough. The real question was why. The answer to that seemed to be just simple, dry, yet very gory and inhumane research.
The demon hadn't waited until things died before stitching them together and re-animating them.
Speaking of, the simple cabin was on fire in places, and all the research I hadn't snapped up already was in real danger of burning. While the heat felt nice, I was certain it would feel a little too nice if we waited much longer. "We should leave."
"Way ahead of you," Oliver replied, even though he wasn't. He stepped past as I stepped up to Loam, still standing in front of us with her sword out and dripping gore. Off-colored gore - that was not red blood.
Loam had a few holes through her, and what used to be her chest was a roiling mass covered by a very dried and very cracked layer of clay. She was in a bad way, and as I looked on, I could feel her distress.
In this state, even a perfectly normal fire could finish her. "Loam, follow me."
I stepped outside, only now realizing how foul the air inside had been. A deep breath was a joy, out here. I took an even fifty steps, more than enough to be out of range of anything heat related, and turned once more to my creation.
"Loam, clean off. Drink if you want to, and create some clay to help you replenish yourself if you need to."
Loam wasted no time plunging herself into the snow, promptly making an angel of sorts as she burrowed in. Her mouth had to be open; I couldn't see it, but I just knew it was.
She was diminished, certainly - but she'd be fine now. Well, unless the demon had help, and that seemed unlikely since we weren't dodging magic or sharp pointy things yet.
Even so, I didn't want to stay here, exposed close to the top of this mountain, for too long. Something else might decide to try its luck.
So I just decided that we had an hour. I turned back to find the blaze well and truly going now, the cabin a solid sheet of flame that ensured most of the demon's work was lost forever. There went that idea.
I wasn't sitting down in the snow, or on top of one of the half buried corpses... but I could sit down on my broom and float. Floating for awhile wasn't going to tax the magical device too badly.
Or if it was, I was just going to bit the bullet and walk home.
"So what do you think? Skimming the trees?"
"I'm down for that," I answered my more chatty companion. "I want out of here."
"You're not alone in that. We are too exposed up here."
The man was spooked, and I didn't blame him. "Just waiting on Loam to recover. As she is, if we are attacked again, she may not make it."
"I get it, I get it. I'm a bit partial to Loam's continued existence, too."
Oliver cupped his chin, staring at the fire a moment. I wasn't fooled, so when he opened his mouth again, I was already steeled for the stupidity.
I was not disappointed: "Say, I noticed you and the demon went a bit far afield when you got chatty earlier. He seemed pretty polite to you, and you to him. Was there something going on there? Was he your type or something?"
I kept my food down, but it took some effort. "I could tell him anything I wanted, as he wasn't going to leave alive. There was no reason to jump out, shout a bunch of insults and grandiose crap, and dive right in. You did notice he insulted me the entire time, didn't you? He - it - called me a traitor outright."
He called me inhuman. Other.
"I don't think he did," Oliver said, firmly.
What? "What do you mean?"
Oliver turned to me. "He called demons the ultimate predator. I think he meant the ultimate predator of humanity. You could make a case that the ultimate predators are ambush predators. Creatures that blend in so well, their prey has no idea the predator is there, and has no time to react when the predator attacks, as a result. That guy - that thing - I got a good look at him, and aside from the horns, I could have passed him on the street and not even noticed. You don't even have the horns."
Oliver took a deep breath and finished his thought. "So if he - it - thinks of you as one of theirs, then what would be the ultimate predator? something like him, or something that's so close to human that it either thinks it is, or actually is? In its' own way, that thing was complimenting you, I'm sure of it."
That was beyond highly offensive. Many light years beyond highly offensive. "I am human. We came from the same place, and you know it. You were there."
Oliver nodded. "You're right, but can you claim that your body is currently human? I saw; you perked up before I could warn you, and you didn't have a magic detection spell running. You knew the demon was there as soon as I did. You felt them, didn't you?"
I saw no reason to lie. "I did. It was a presence, and I could feel roughly where it was."
Oliver nodded again, this time sporting a slight smile. "That's going to be handy, going forward. But back to my point, I can't even be certain my body is human, or completely human. I'm out here doing things that are impossible back home. So are you."
That had to be challenged. "What makes us human then? Is it our bodies or our souls? Our points of view, and what side we pick to root for?"
Maybe it was both, but if I had to choose between one or the other, I knew which one I'd go with.
I didn't like it, what Oliver was suggesting. I didn't like it at all. "I'm human. We both are. That thing was not; our actions compared to its' is proof enough, even if our shared pasts and experiences were discarded. Unless you're a serial killer or a communist dictator, broken somehow, there are some things that you just don't do as a human."
"I'll buy that," Oliver agreed. "Not everyone will feel the same way, of course, but now we know why the people here are so twitchy around you. Or now we've felt it, rather."
Yes, this had sunk that prejudice in nicely and given me full understanding of what I was up against. Even more so, since the chatty demon had admitted it knew some witches who sided with them. That suspicion was going to be hard to overturn; impossible, for at least a few people.
Which begged the question of whether I wanted to try or not. At the moment? I didn't.
I waited, enjoying the radiating heat while I could. Nothing approached us in the meantime, likely warded off by those same flames. Well, that or the stench of old death, which was even now clinging to the area. Nothing a fresh snow and a bitter freeze won't cure, bodies notwithstanding.
"We did learn something good at least. You can sense them, and they you."
Yeah, that was good to know. Unless they had some way to hide from me, we wouldn't be ambushed by any of those things masquerading as humans.
Loam finally stood up, looking none the worse for wear. Well, other than her clothes, which were sporting some nice new rips and tears. Was that a scorch mark? No, it didn't matter; we had replacements, and getting us all down the mountain was more important.
Her new sword was fine, at least.
"Loam, follow me."
I set the pace. Oliver muttered his spell behind me; I hadn't quite caught the words, but maybe next time. He took his place to my left, sideways and with an arm out in front like Superman, quite obviously doing it on purpose and grinning all the while.
I'd let him have his fun, so long as we managed to get to the base of the mountain by nightfall. We only had a few hours left for that.
Comments
Nagrij
As a zombie aficionado, how could I hate a class of people that creates them? As for the second point, some people lack certain hallmarks of humanity, and you've called them out correctly. The issue is there tends to be some physical, medical reason for the lack. Isobel was calling that out directly, and giving her opinion on it... but drawing a parallel toward the physical definitions.
Dallas Eden
So, Isobel meets her first real demon and defeats him easily. Of course, as a necromancer he wasn’t the strongest of demons, but meeting him proved to be a learning experience. As an aside, this is the second of your stories that I know of that featured a necromancer; a favorite class of villain perhaps? So we learned that at least n this world, witches are some form of kin to demons - at least closely enough related to allow them to sense each other. It also explains why the locals fear Isobel, as apparently many of her class have sided with the demons against humanity. Too bad she wasn’t able to get more intelligence from the necromancer, but it was at least a start. Although having Oliver hear it may prove to be a bad thing, especially in light of their conversation afterward. I agree with Isobel regarding what defines a human. There are plenty of people in the world that I would hesitate to include within that definition - and plenty of them populate the current administration. But I suppose one can be human, yet show no humanity. We generally refer to those people as psychopaths.
