Respite (2)

Ataru chewed on his bland flatbread in silence. He wondered if this world had beef, it sure would liven up this struggle of a meal he was suffering through. What if the people of this world ate monsters? He wouldn’t have to eat something like a minotaur to taste beef, would he?

“Umm…”

What about rice? Now that he thought about it, rice could simply not exist at all. He shivered at the thought.

“Hey!” He snapped out of his thoughts and looked to Rosalind.

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I’m paying attention, you said you were the uh, Demon King’s daughter?” Rosalind looked at him as if his head were on backwards.

“You just… You aren’t quite reacting like I thought you would. Did you often run into nobility in your world?”

“Can’t say I did. Is the Demon King a big deal?” He asked. Rosalind leaned backwards and let out a groan.

“I suppose it wouldn’t mean very much to you. Yes, he was a ‘big deal.’ My father was responsible for…” Rosalind narrowed her eyes as she looked at the ceiling. “He caused a lot of suffering, I’ll just say that.”

“Was? Did he–”

“Killed by the Hero. I didn’t see it happen, but the humans that pursued me used his death to taunt me.” Rosalind’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “I’m still not sure what to think, but I do know that I won’t be crying over that man anytime soon.”

“Well, if you didn’t see it maybe–”

“Oh, I never explained the other two forms of magic!” She leaned back forward to look Ataru in the eyes. He knew better than to pry further. “Pathways, yes, I should explain that. Pathways are a little special. They are abilities that manifest in people regardless of their mana capacity or knowledge. Each ability is unique to the person, and the circumstances of their manifestation can differ. A life or death experience, extensive training, an odd obsession, lineage, the list goes on.” She took a moment to catch her breath before continuing. He couldn’t help but notice a glassy hue to her violet eyes.

“Fire breathing, enhanced strength, the ability to manipulate objects with strings, I’ve seen all sorts of interesting Pathways.” She cleared her throat and took a sip of water. “Hmm, I think that about covers that. The third form of magic are miracles. Miracles are…”

She stopped speaking as she noticed tears streaming down her face. “Dammit.” She wiped the tears away with the sleeve of her robe, but that only seemed to break the floodgates. “What the hell is there to cry about!?” She slammed her fist into the table, the wood cracked and the table fell inwards. Rosalind stood from her seat and began pacing back and forth. “You lock me away just because I refuse to be your perfect little weapon!?” She kicked a stool into the wall, causing it to shatter on impact. “You treat me like trash, like an embarrassment!?” She punched the stone wall, leaving a noticeable crack.

Now that he thought about it, her father’s death must have happened recently. Did she even have time to process it before she was hunted down?

“Dammit dammit dammit!” The room flashed with blue light as orbs of flame were thrown from her hands, leaving scorch marks upon the walls. Ataru only watched until she finally stopped, then slumping to the floor. “He never apologized to me, I never got to yell at him for being a terrible father.” She fell backwards onto her back and covered her pouring eyes with her arm. “...I never got to prove him wrong.” As she laid there, Ataru thought of a number of things to say, but came to the conclusion that saying nothing would be best. He didn’t know her father and he didn’t truly know her, to act as if he did would be insulting. He stood up and walked over to her.

“I’m heading to bed. In the morning, do you wanna get out of here? See that human city?” He asked, biting into the flatbread they’d made together. She slowly moved her arm from her eyes and stared up at him.

“I’m a demon, there’s no place for me there.” She whispered, pointing to her horn.

“Wear a big hat or something, it’ll be fine.” He said with a shrug.

“Wear a…” She let out a dry chuckle. “I guess I can’t stay here eating flatbread for the rest of my life, can I?”

“Sure doesn’t sound like living to me.” Ataru gave a salute and exited the room.

Laying in a stiff bed with a paper thin sheet covering him, Ataru slept not so soundly. He tossed and turned as he had a dream. It was a dream he hadn’t had in a while, and he wasn’t thrilled to see it again.

He finds himself sitting in the backseat of a car. In the two front seats are faceless figures. Their shape is indiscernible, but he knows them to be his parents. He’s excited because there’s a big game today, the closing out of the season. He’s pitching, and if he does well he might just attract the attention of a college recruiter that’s been rumored to be hidden in the stands. He goes to check his phone to see if his teammates arrived before him, and as he does he hears his parents scream. He looks up to see a truck barreling towards them.

He looks down to see the phone gone, and in its place an arm wrapped in a thick cast. He’s in a white room, laying on a white bed. A faceless figure walks in. They say something, and while he hears them clearly, he can’t understand it. He yells and screams, but his words do nothing to change what’s happened.

He looks down again, this time the cast is gone and in his hand is a baseball. Like he’s done so many times before he goes to throw it, but something stops him. Chains are wrapped around his arm. He tries to pull away but they only dig in deeper and deeper until he hears a snap.

Ataru woke up with a jolt, a dull pain radiating from his right shoulder. “Even here, huh?” He let out an annoyed groan before getting out of the stiff bed and exiting the room. He noticed Rosalind by the entrance to the kitchen, a noticeable change in her appearance. She turned around to face him, her mouth stuffed with flatbread. “Well, that certainly is a big hat.” He looked at the pointed hat upon her head, from the stitchwork and patches it appeared to be a custom job.

She quickly scarfed down the bread before straightening her back and adjusting the hat on her head. “This is the part where you tell me what you think, Ataru.” She said with her royal tone. He walked closer and examined the hat. Along with the robe it really did give her the image of a bonafide mage. Most importantly it hid her pointed ears and her horn.

“Not half bad.” He said with a nod. “So you can sew, huh?”

“I’ve had a lot of time for hobbies.” She said with a prideful huff. “Now then, we should head off.” She stepped forward, only to stop and turn to face Ataru. “I almost forgot, hold out your hand.”

“Sure?” He did as she asked, holding out his left hand.

“I realized that you may not have an awareness of the mana inside you, what with you being from a world devoid of magic.” She took his hand in her own and pressed her thumb into his palm. Her hand felt warm, much more than he thought it would. He wondered if this was just a common trait of demons. Or was it him that was getting hotter? “This usually happens naturally through childhood, but in rare cases someone may need a little help. This will feel a little strange, but you will get used to it.” He felt a tingling sensation spread throughout his hand, it felt as if an amorphous form was seeping into his skin. The feeling dug into him like the roots of a tree, and spread those roots across his entire body. She was right, it felt strange. But soon enough the feeling became natural, as if it had always been there. He wondered how long it would take for him to learn a spell. If what Rosalind had said was anything to go by, he’d need to brush up on his math.

“Uhm, that should have done it.” He heard her speak, he opened his eyes and nodded. “Right, so how long do you plan on holding my hand?” Her voice cracked as she hid her face with the brim of her hat. Ataru quickly let go of her hand and bowed in apology.

“Sorry! Thanks! I should uh, lead the way!” He moved past her and ran up the stairs. Rosalind followed after him at the same pace.

“Hold on, do you even know the way!?” Just as she caught up to him at the entrance to the outpost she suddenly saw his body be violently yanked from the doorway like a lassoed ragdoll. A familiar black tendril had reached from atop the false boulder and wrapped around him.

Ataru found himself face to face with the monster they’d narrowly avoided in the forest. Did it know they were there the whole time? Was it toying with them just to eat them now? Whatever the case, there was no hiding this time.