Broken City Barrier

They arrived at the next city by noon, where the festivities were in full swing. Many people, especially parents with children, took days off for the five days of the Festival of Magic and Wonders. It was the perfect time to get drunk in broad daylight. Even beyond the city walls, music and laughter could be heard.

Outside the city, there was a line of people shuffling to enter and join the festivities.

“There is a line,” the Witch said, surprised.

“Might have something to do with that,” the Succubus said, pointing up to the space above the city. Almost half of the city’s magical barrier was down.

“They can’t count on the barrier to prevent people with malicious intent from entering,” the Witch said. The Witch looked at the demon with concern. “How are you going to get in? You have identification?”

The Succubus took out a metal plaque with demon and common languages written on it. “Merchant’s pass—I’m free to go anywhere I want.”

The Witch looked relieved. If the Succubus had no identification, she would have difficulty explaining how this demon didn’t have any malicious intent. That was how biased humans were toward demons.

There were two lines into the city. Most of the people on the line were farmers, and the nobles probably used another entrance.

The line was moving fairly fast. At the gate, when the Witch presented her identification plaque to the soldier along with the Succubus’s plaque. The soldier first grimaced when he saw the demon writings, but when he saw the Witch’s plaque, he understood.

“Are you the Witch of the White Rose?” the soldier asked.

“It is I,” the Witch replied. It was not a secret that she had demon powers within her. She had never tried to hide it, and people who knew of the Witch of the White Rose sometimes also called her the Demon Witch.

“May I see your Witch Identification Charm?”

The Witch lifted her pendant and handed the black jewel to the soldier. The chain stretched magically towards the soldier, becoming longer than it initially appeared. It was enough proof that the charm was authentic. However, the soldier still carefully examined the pendant, holding it to the light.

There was a bit of commotion behind the Witch at the other line.

“Please, you have to let me in,” a person pleaded with the guard.

The person’s voice and cloaked figure were both too androgynous to see their gender. The desperation in their voice was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry, we’re under a stricter entry restriction at the moment, and we can’t let you in if you don’t have any identification,” the soldier said.

“This is the first time I’ve left the forest. There’s no way I would have identification,” the person said. They lower their dark green cloak, and a head full of rainbowed color hair braided into thick strands spilled down their back. Tiny flowers dotted the long luscious strands that fell almost to the ground, and green vines snaked through the braids.

The people who could see that person’s face gasped.

The soldier examining the Witch’s pendant returned the charm to her.

“Can you and your companion please wait here for a moment?” he asked, gesturing to the side of the gate away from the line of people.

“Of course,” the Witch said.

The Witch could guess why the soldier wanted her to wait. With the barrier down and the festival in full swing, they probably wanted more people to help fix the magical devices. The sooner the barrier was back in full operation, the safer the city would be, and the guards wouldn’t have to check each individual’s identification before letting them in.

The soldier went away while another soldier replaced him in checking identifications.

However, on the other side, the trouble had not finished.

People on both sides of the line were now openly gaping at the green-cloaked traveler. When the traveler turned their head and the Witch saw the profile of their face, she finally understood why. The traveler was so beautiful that they could make people’s knees go weak. Yet, the guard had been impressively holding his ground and staying faithful to his job.

The traveler rushed on, desperate to convince the guard. “I’m a fleur. We don’t usually leave the forest, so we won’t have an identification. But I must enter the city. Please, I’m not here to cause trouble.”

While the forest existed as part of this kingdom, they were not overseen by the kingdom’s administration. Therefore, the fleurs didn’t usually register for their identifications in a town or city unless they needed to take care of business outside of the forest.

However, the fleurs rarely ventured out. They were said to be beautiful because they were born from flowers. They were also hermaphrodites. Like flowers with stamens and pistils, a fleur could reproduce on their own if they wished. However, for a child to be born, they must first produce the seeds in their bodies, then plant them in soil or water.

“How can I be sure if you’re a fleur? Even if you are, that doesn’t mean it’s safe to let you in,” the guard said.

People were beginning to whisper, and unfortunately, most of them seemed to think the guard was being too harsh, especially since it was festival time and someone so beautiful couldn’t possibly be harmful.

The Witch and the Succubus watched this spectacle, and both felt that the people were being sucked in by looks. The Succubus shook her head at the silliness of the humans.

“My Lady, I think we should leave,” the Succubus said to the Witch.

“But your sustenance…” the Witch said.

“I’ve survived so long without sapping energy from men. I’ll be fine,” the Succubus said.

Something about the Succubus’s tone made the Witch look closer at the demon, and the Witch realized that the Succubus seemed a bit nervous. There were hardly any tells at all. Demons were not emotional creatures. However, the Witch had been around demons long enough to trust that her feelings and instincts would often clue her in more than her naked eyes could observe.

“What’s the matter?” asked the Witch.

The Succubus swept her gaze at the streets inside the city, narrowing her eyes but not finding her target. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this place. Since we want to avoid trouble and attention, I think we should leave while we still can before something shows up.”

The Witched looked in the same direction. She couldn’t feel anything different about these streets, and nothing out of the ordinary could be seen, even during Festival times.

“Alright, let’s go,” the Witch said. “We have enough provision to last us a while, and you don’t need much food anyway.”

Demons can survive without food for long periods. Over the centuries, the Witch had also manifested this trait, although not completely. However, she had been able to live a normal life by eating much less than most people and still not have her life affected.

The Witch turned to the soldier who had replaced the previous guard and informed him they had to go. The two ladies turned their backs on the city to leave. However, they didn’t get very far.

At first, it was just a light tremor of mana in the air. This was normal in a city, as usual as a cart rattling outside your window when it passed by. The Witch thought it would be either from the machinations that use mana or the barriers being fixed and calibrated. She didn’t think much of it.

The Fleur, who had lived in the Forest their whole life where there were no mana large mana devices, went on high alert.

“What’s that?” they asked, startled as they looked into the city with searching eyes.

“It’s the festival,” the guard answered lazily, wanting this traveler to stop pestering him already. He probably thought the traveler was referring to all the street music and noise.

“No, I’m talking about that mana ripple just now. You can’t feel it?” the Fleur asked.

“We don’t have enough magic potential for that, and if we can’t feel it, it’s probably no big deal,” the guard said.

Everyone had some magic, mana that coursed through their bodies to sustain their life. Without mana, a person could not live. All living beings had mana.

However, those who didn’t have mana past a certain threshold wouldn’t be able to use the arcane arts. Therefore, they wouldn’t pass the test during the festival. Since they didn’t have much mana, their mana sensitivity was also quite low. A mana tremor this soft would not be felt by normal humans.

The Witch paid no attention to the Fleur’s uneasiness. It was none of her business, and the Fleur would eventually learn that life in the forest differed from life in the city.

Usually, the mana tremors would die down or oscillate in waves and then die down. However, this time, the mana intensity increased. In just a few steps, even the Witch could feel it on her skin, making the hair on the back of her neck rise. The Witch stopped in her tracks, and so did the Succubus.

“Looks like it might be too late to leave,” the Witch said.

“We can still leave. What happens to these people is none of our concern,” the Succubus said.

It was true. The Witch had no obligation to strangers now that she had taken a vacation leave from her duties with the Office of the Arcane Arts. However, if someone knew she didn’t lend a hand, that would make a bad name for herself. The soldier from before had already taken down her information, and people would know she willingly left even when trouble brewed.

Due to the festival, there were more people in the city than usual. Not only were there more merchants, farmers, and travelers, but all the children around the area came for the mana testing for a chance to become arcane artificers. If something bad did happen, the damage would be unimaginable.