>>6019544>>6019622>>6019646>>6019675>>6019684>>6020321>>6020380>>6020389>>6020431https://files.catbox.moe/54fdzz.mp3“Demon General!” you shouted to interrupt her. “Don’t! You promised to spare everyone else in this village if I went with you willingly.” You stepped forward, raising your hand to separate her from the peasants. “They don’t need to know the details.” Your eyes narrowed, locks of hair spilling into your forehead. “Hold up your end of the bargain and trouble these good people no more!” Puffing out your chest, you glanced around to see if your act was convincing enough.
The woman eyed you and the demon, lowering her basket to her stomach. “What do you mean, Niklos?”
Miranna raised a finger and readied to reply, but you cut in.
“She needs a sacrifice, Polina!” you gestured dramatically to your head. “And she won’t leave without one.”
Murmuring and prattle spread among the villagers, until another man spoke up. “Now the demons need sacrifices?!”
Damn, you hadn’t meant to scare them. “Yes, but—“
“How often? Will she come back every year” Polina gasped, her basket wobbling in her hands. “Every week?”
“Every fifty—no—hundred years,” you said, stifling your breath, sweat beading on your forehead. “Isn’t that right?”
Looking your way, Miranna huffed in audible annoyance, and crossed her arms over her armour.
“So, if she takes me, you have nothing to worry about besides the usual tithe,” you said.
Another woman exhaled in relief. “Oh, thank the stars! I couldn’t bear to part with my spoons and pots!”
You scooped up Count Whiskers by his belly, positioning him be your side, clasping and raising your wrists together as if shackled.
“So take me, she-demon, and forget about this village for the next hundred years!”
Miranna rolled her eyes and seized your elbow, her cloak billowing above her shoulders, turning into tall raven wings, wind-devouring feathers edging akin thorns on a rose stem. With a forceful beat of her wings, she lifted off the ground, soaring over the villagers and then above your house, making you to cling to her and swing.
“Niklos, I’ll drink for you tonight!” a previously silent man called out. Leonid, at least appreciating your ‘sacrifice’.
Your gaze swept over the crowd and across the village streets, tear welling up; not for the neighbours you scarcely knew, but for the peaceful life you were being forced to abandon. And you complained about it only a few hours ago!
“You don’t want to know them you’re the hero?”
Making sure you were out of earshot, you said, “No, let’s keep it between us. Not. A. Word. Understand?”
