The Demon Lord Is An Angel -
Chapter 146: Mourning Out
Chapter 146: Mourning Out
The sounds of birds chirping filled the air.
When Kir awoke, he had a brief flashback to memories of one of his past life’s alarm clocks, one of which had been on his holowatch, before remembering everything that happened the night before, up to Noir cleaning them both off with magic before they fell asleep.
A satisfied smile rose to his face as he felt Noir pressed against him. As gently as he could, he removed his arm from the older man’s back as he braced to stand. Rising up, he saw that no one else had returned while they were asleep, so he quietly donned his pants and stepped outside.
The first thing he noticed was that he could see as clearly as if it were daylight, and the second thing he noticed was that the sun wasn’t even out. Just a sliver of it on the eastern horizon, judging by the sky.
Ducking back into the tent, he decided to store his things before-
Where were his things?
After looking around the rather sparse tent, he shook Noir awake.
"I thought you had ’em," Noir groaned and stretched, sitting up. "Gods I’m sore..."
"Why would I have them? I left them here to get my spell tattoos altered."
"Sam came by and got them for you. I thought they..." His eyes widened. "No..."
The worst came to mind. Sam had stolen the manastone and his weapons. If they’d managed to leave the camp...
Kir rushed out of the tent.
They could be anywhere.
Hurrying, he passed where Amarena had been brawling the night before and didn’t find her.
Then he entered the sex tent, only to find Stella reclining amidst a group of incubi and succubi, with a pile of passed-out demons in front of her.
"Are you here to see Mistress Stella?" a sultry-eyed incubus half Kir’s height asked as he tried to approach.
Kir, as politely as he could, picked him up by the shoulders and set him aside. "Stella, have you seen Sam?"
"Ugh, not even going to say ’Good job conquering half the camp?’" Stella complained. "That lightning stuff you taught me really did the trick-"
"Stella..." Kir ground out.
"No, I haven’t seen Sam, try the food tent or something," she turned to caress the chin of a succubus. "This is the boy I told you about. Maledict’s spawn."
The sudden sounds of interest were a loud cacophony to Kir’s enhanced hearing, so he turned on his toes and left.
He could be angry at Stella later.
Halfway around the camp, Kir spotted the strider they’d come in with, and lacking any other leads, jogged his way over to it.
Amarena was sitting sideways in the back, arms spread across the rim of the cart. Across from her was Sam, hugging Kangetsu to their chest. All the missing items were sitting between them.
As soon as Kir approached, Sam’s head turned for just a moment, and he saw that under their eyes the skin was red, as if they’d spent the entire night crying. Then they turned their head away, staring across the space between them and the cart.
"Kir’s here," they said softly.
Amarena started, shifting so she could sit up. What Kir could see of her face and body was a mess. Bruises and the remains of cuts were everywhere, not to mention the bloodstains and mud of the combat she’d put herself through.
"Took you long enough," she growled, stretching her arms before her before letting them fall to her sides. "I came back here when I heard you and the sheepkin fucking. Good thing, too. This one was almost ready to take off, not that the guards would allow it if they’re doing their jobs right."
"Thanks, Rena," Kir said, before climbing up into the cart.
Seeing Sam sitting there, obviously in pain and distress, Kir was no longer sure what to feel. His first thought was that he hadn’t tried hard enough. He’d relied on Noir to keep in touch with them, because it had been obvious that Sam was laying the blame for the deaths of Namosa and Carron at his feet.
In truth, Kir hadn’t wanted to risk alienating them further by trying to broach the subject; because their deaths had been beyond his ability to predict or prevent. From what he’d learned after, they’d made their choices not to allow for their capture, and emphasizing that to Sam had seemed like it would only cause them pain.
So he’d refrained. And here they were because of it.
"Sam... are you okay?" Kir asked.
"No," they replied flatly, looking away toward Amarena, then burying their eyes against their arm as they brought their forearm to their knee.
Be smarter about this, Kir, he told himself.
"I’m sorry," he said. "I know we lost them... and if I had been there, things might have gone differently. I understand if you blame me..." He took a long breath. "Is there something I can do to make things right?"
They remained silent for a long time. Kir watched, wondering what thoughts were going through their head until at long last they croaked out, "No." After a stuttering breath, they added, "Not your... fault..."
"What’s bothering you?" Kir asked. He looked at Amarena briefly, noticing that she was watching with serious interest. "Tell me what you’re feeling."
After another long moment, Sam answered, "Everyone’s... moving on..."
For an uncounted amount of time, Kir just listened. It took a long time for Sam to get their feelings out. It got easier when Noir finally caught up to them, accompanied by Stella. Everyone was respectfully silent, and even the odd demon that entered the animal pens seemed to sense that something was going on and kept their distance.
Sam shared their feelings, their memories. Their regrets. They wished that Kir had been there. That they’d had Kangetsu or magic or a different mavenry. For the first time, Kir had solid confirmation that Sam’s maven abilities suppressed sound around them. For them to speak, they had to consciously suppress it, which was why they’d grown into a habit of speaking as few words as possible.
By the time they finished, wiping their eyes with a bittersweet smile, the sun had fully risen.
With Amarena refraining, everyone was sharing a group hug when Kir felt a polite tap on his shoulder.
It was Litty.
She spoke in a half-whisper, "Hi! Sorry, so-so much, to inter-"
"Let’s talk over there," Kir jerked his head away from the group. After a few moments of reassuring words, Kir broke away to talk to her. "What is it?" he asked.
"Oh. Well... the General was wondering if there was something you could help us with..."
"I’m not participating in this siege," Kir said.
"Oh! No-no-no. Last night after you left he set up a cover for you. He just wants to borrow the use of your cart, since we’re going to do a prisoner release. It was all negotiated with the enemy general by messenger imp."
Kir flinched. "How is that a cover?"
"Well, we were thinking we could slip you in with the prisoners. They shouldn’t have anything against half-demons, and your succubus familiar can change form."
"What about Amarena?" Kir asked.
"Well, it’s not the best solution, but..." she reached into the air and pulled forth a folded-up bunch of cloth. "If she wears this, she could pass as a half-demon. I think they call half-Wrathians ’ogres’." She unfurled a cloak. "Of course, that assumes they don’t have any methods for detecting demons. But those magics tend to be a bit," she shifted to the left and right, making a grimacing face. "They’d have to expel every demonkin to not have them going off all the time, and I know we released a few demonkin civilians to them a few times... Unless they killed them all... hm..."
Kir wondered what the odds of that were, then remembered that he’d seen more than a few demonkin around everywhere but the school. He hoped the people of Norneau weren’t that evil. "I don’t think a cloak is going to fool anyone," Kir said, accepting the cloak.
"Yeah..." she poked her fingers together awkwardly. "If you have a better idea, please use it!"
"What about my dimensional storage?" Kir asked, recalling that Sreev said it would be a couple of measures of cubic volume.
"Eeesh, how long can she hold her breath?"
"She wouldn’t have to. My artist worked in magic to keep my wings aired, so it should apply to the whole space, right?" Kir certainly hoped so.
"Oh now that’s smart... maybe we should try that with... hmm..." She shook her head a moment later. "Oh, there I went. You should figure that out, since we’d have to ’throw you in’ with the prisoners in about half an hour, heheh... They’re mostly mercenaries and other rough individuals... adventurers and guards and such..." She patted her fingers together awkwardly. "So, um, should I tell the general we can use your cart? I mean if not we can hold it for you..."
"Go ahead," Kir said hoping his comment about his dimensional storage hadn’t just inspired something deadly.
"Excellent! I’ll be back in a few to throw you in irons!" she made a strange voice for the last four that Kir felt was a reference but didn’t want to ask about. "... I’ll just... get the General now..."
Then with a sigh he turned and walked back to his group.
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