Chapter 1:
Why is the Trip to the Demon World Never Peaceful?!
Lethargy had been falling on the Witch like light rain lately. The water soaked deeper into her skin with each passing day. She was 369 years old already. It was longer than any humans had ever lived. Her face retained its nineteen-year-old form, but her heart had been long gone, and her body steeped with ancient time.
Flowers bloom and wither. All dreams must one day end. Eternal sleep will always come. Even demons with their long lives cannot fight against the coming of death.
However, today was a day to go out on a journey. The September morning sun streamed into her cozy bedroom through the cotton curtains. She couldn’t keep her Guide waiting.
She cleaned herself with a spell and put on the traveling clothes she had laid out the night before. Her pink-brown traveling jacket fit her loose enough that she could add on more layers if she wanted more warmth. Picking up her backpack, she opened the door to the common area of the house. The only person here, her travel companion, the Guide, was already waiting for her. But it was not right to call the companion a person.
Sitting at the dining table was the being that the Witch had summoned last night. With a head of black wavy hair and two black horns, a beautiful and alluring face, and a curvy figure to die for, the female demon turned and smiled at the Witch.
“Pardon me, My Lady,” the demon said. She stood from the dining table where two sets of breakfast were already laid out. “I helped myself to the kitchen and made us some breakfast. We have a long road ahead of us today. I thought we could save some time since you weren’t up yet.”
The demon gave the Witch a courteous bow and held her hand out to the table, inviting the Witch to join her for breakfast.
“I don’t mind. I already said last night that you could treat this place as your house,” the Witch said, sitting down to partake in the food. For a meal prepared by a demon, it wasn’t half bad.
“My Lady, thank you for letting me be your Guide to Pandemonium. Our Lord is eagerly awaiting your arrival to the demon world,” the demon Guide said. “Currently, the only Gate that I can sense is very far away. It was wise that you added one more month of travel lead time this year.”
“Thank you,” the Witch said, smiling softly. “I’m glad you’re alright with this last-minute request of mine.”
Of course, she didn’t know that the Gate this time would be so far away. She had to add one more month of travel, especially this year, because she wanted to plan for unforeseen events that might slow down their journey.
“Anything for you, My Lady,” the Guide said.
When the two of them finished breakfast and cleaned up, the Witch told the demon Guide to head into town first.
Every trip, their demon Lord would send a list of items for them to bring back. Past experiences had taught the Witch to get as many things as soon as possible because they might not have the opportunity to do so later. One way or another, some disaster always strikes on their trip.
The Witch sighed, hoping that the trip this time would be peaceful. At least, let no lives be in danger for once.
With the Guide out of the house, the Witch went back into her bedroom and took out a few envelopes. She arranged them neatly on the dining table. Each envelope was addressed with a name. She wondered if she would have the opportunity to see these letters, or would they be opened first by the people she addressed.
The Witch went around the house checking windows and doors, then shouldered her leather bag and left the house, closing the front door behind her. Above her, the wisteria hung long from their arched trellis, shading her from the sun as she laid a spell that encompassed the whole house.
The magic barrier spread around the house, brushing lightly against the white roses climbing up the façade. She set a condition on the barrier—after ten years, the barrier would send out messages to people that she designated, the same people whose names were addressed on the envelopes, letting them know that she was leaving her house and everything in it to them.
Under a too-bright sun, in a bustling and colorful city, along a street of farmers shouting out their produce, inside one of the dark allies, a group of three men crowded around a girl. It was a cliché scene that could be found in any cliché book. “Hey little missy, wanna have some fun with us?” Hoodlum A said.
“We’ll show you a real good time,” Gangsta B said.
“Heaven is where we’ll take you, girl,” Thug C said.
“I’ve already been to heaven, I’m good,” the girl said. She stared at them with dead eyes like she was so bored of this whole thing and couldn’t be in a more boring situation.
“I bet it ain’t like the heaven that we’re gonna show you, lil’ lady,” Gangsta B said and took a step closer to her.
Without looking at the man, she pointed to her necklace. “Can’t you tell I’m a witch?” An oval obsidian hung from a golden chain rested on her chest. Ancient runes in silver etched the surface of the black jewel. Her tall pointy hat and the long staff on her back were hard to miss.
“Of course, you’re a witch,” Hoodlum A said indulgingly. “And I’m a mage.” He spread out his arms to show his dark brown mage robes made of linen and trimmed with copper-colored ribbons.
“I’m a swords master,” said Thug C, patting the long sword at his waist with a silver-painted wooden handle.
“And I’m a scholar,” said Gangsta B, pushing the elaborately designed glasses with missing lenses up his nose.
“You guys sure are prepared for the Festival of Magic and Wonders tomorrow,” the girl said. “Can’t you tell this is real?” She lifted the pendant for the men to look.
If one of the guys had bothered to look at the obsidian closely, they would have seen that underneath the rune, when viewed from different angles, rainbows of colors shifted inside the black jewel.
On the other hand, the artifacts that the three men had were all fake at first glance because those items were all poorly made for festive fun only.
The men only glanced at the pendant before locking their eyes on the girl again. She was a pretty girl with a long cherry red chair and pale pink cheeks. Her light green eyes looked dead now, but they were still a very beautiful color. A button cute nose with a small pink mouth made her look quite delectable to the men.
The girl sighed. She thought she was already dressed modestly enough.
Her thin beige summer blouse layered with a pink-brown travel jacket framed her petite body, and light brown shorts modestly covered her curvy thighs. The small gap of skin that peeked below the shorts was covered the rest of the way down her leg by her brown thigh-high stockings and a pair of dark brown traveling boots.
Whatever dirty thoughts the men were having, she caught on but didn’t seem to care much. She had places to be, things to buy.
A bulging backpack rests on her back, its brown leather surface scratched but still sturdy even after constant use. Unidentified stains littered the leather, some were perhaps blood stains, but all were too faded to tell.
Her magical cane, long and ivory white, was tucked between her back and her backpack. The cane protruded up into an ivory crescent moon housing a spherical prismatic glass gem the size of a fist. The same prismatic glass seemed to have splashed randomly on the surface of the crescent moon and ate into it, making parts of the curved surface prismatically transparent.
Seeing that the men didn’t even bother to pay attention to the pendant, the Witch shook her head and put it down. Normally, people wouldn’t bother her when they saw her pendant, but with the Festival of Magic and Wonders, many people dress up as arcane artificers to celebrate.
With everyone pretending to be arcane magical users, the men probably didn’t think they’d run into a witch. While witches were one of the most common classes of arcane artificers, it was still rare for common folks to see them.
“We’re definitely well prepared and well endowed,” Thug C smirked. The others chuckled with him.
“Come, let’s play,” Hoodlum A said.
The men stepped in closer to her and for a moment wondered why their eyes were looking more up rather than down. The witch was not a short girl, but her small face and petite frame made her look young, innocent, and cute.
Her hat, with its wide brim that seemed to swallow up the petite-framed Witch, might have also caused people to think she was shorter than she really was. Her hat in purple pink extended up from its wide brim into a cone that bent back slightly. A cluster of small white roses dangled at the end of the pointy hat.
“Really, let’s not do this, ok? You’re going to get hurt.” the Witch said, lowering her head and peeking her eyes out from her hat, warning the men.
Ignoring the Witch’s warning, Thug C went to grab the girl’s hand, but she swiped his arm away. Thug C, not wanting to land empty-handed, changed course and lunged to grab her waist. While the Witch was able to dodge backwards, she also backed herself against the wall.
The men snickered at her, pinning her with their unsavory eyes, and advanced on her.
Dead-eyed, the girl sighed and slumped her shoulders. This was so tiring. She really didn’t want to resort to violence, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.
Arcane artificers were not allowed to harm civilians with their magic, but this was for self-defense. Besides, there were other ways to protect herself without using magic.
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