The Demon Lord Is An Angel
Chapter 215: Interlude - Bridget and Darlae - Part 1

Chapter 215: Interlude - Bridget and Darlae - Part 1

A gentle purr rose from the table where Bridget was presently lying on her stomach. She was enjoying the relaxing splendor of a massage from the catkin woman above her, the little beans on her fingers reaching just right into every sore spot and knot after months of travel.

Nyandor was as close of a place to paradise as a cat-lover like her could be. There were colorful catfolk of all stripes, spots, and calicos, and she just adored all the little cat-themed places there were to visit.

Darlae, meanwhile, was out in the massage parlor’s rock garden, sneezing up a storm.

As the latest tempestuous round of sneezes subsided, she slid the door open and walked back in, her robe doing little to hide the warrior elf’s long legs.

"Ugh... I swear I wasn’t allergic in college..."

"It’s been at least a century since we were last attending the Academy, Dar. If there’s one thing I’ve learned as a witch, it’s that bodies change over time."

"Yeah. Yours just gets sexier," Darlae quipped back, which would have sounded better had she not been red-eyed and congested. "I think I might go back to the inn. Think I can get a refund on the massage?"

"No refund," the catkin woman who had tried massaging Darlae unsuccessfully for the half hour prior to her sneezing fit said. She’d been leaning on the wall smoking a pipe while Darlae got fresh air.

Darlae cast her a baleful glare, and the catkin currently massaging Bridget sighed. "Sister, I think it would only be fair to give half their coin back." She shot her sister a look that Bridget very much recognized as the "Don’t piss off the giant elf!" look; universal to many who dealt with Darlae.

At times she was a little jealous of her wife’s muscles, but she wouldn’t change a thing.

Taking the hint, the gray and white striped catkin sighed and gestured with her pipe, inviting Darlae to join her at the front where she promptly refunded half the coin they’d spent and took the robe back.

Bridget could tell by the sounds of Darlae’s sneezing that she’d gone back to the dressing room to change.

A few minutes later, Darlae poked her head back in. "Want me to- Achoo! -grab anything for us?"

"No, but go find a witch or herbalist. They might have something for your allergies," Bridget replied, turning her head, she beheld her sneezy wife and reached out, squeezing her hand in midair as a show of affection.

Bridget found herself wishing she’d had more in her arsenal to combat allergies, but being a human living amongst humans, the fact that her species never seemed to have allergic reactions except in the most extreme cases had made retaining that knowledge a bit superfluous. After all, she’d thought her adventuring days were behind her.

From the door, Darlae repeated the gesture halfway before another sneeze forced her to cover her mouth.

As she turned to leave, Bridget couldn’t help but think it was going to be a long month.

*

It’s going to be a long month, Darlae thought between sneezes. So much for professional catkin cuddlers...

Darlae loved cats, and by transitive similarity, catkin, so she felt a little extra miserable from not being able to enjoy Nyandor.

They’d arrived in Nyandor by ferry, only to learn that outgoing sea vessels were waiting to form a fleet - a hedge against the beasts and monsters of the sea that were swarming thanks to disruptions caused by the Eye of Hell.

Past experience told Darlae that the swarms would quiet down after a few years - once the biggest beasts had their fill and could safely rest within their lairs - but that didn’t change the desire to solve the mystery of Kir’s missing mother as soon as possible so they could get back to their lives.

If Darlae was being honest with herself, going on this adventure seemed far preferable to the sort of domestic bliss that had been imminent before Maledict had intruded to "collect" Kir. Unbeknownst to their son, Bridget and Darlae had been planning out a pregnancy, and while Darlae didn’t mind the idea of getting a man to stud for them, the notion of letting someone else touch Bridget never failed to fill her with violent thoughts.

Almost as violent as the fit of sneezing that announced her to the witch’s office before she even entered.

"Allergies?" the bald catkin witch asked as soon as Darlae opened the door.

"Yes-" Darlae sniffed heavily.

The price for medicine that would last her a month was a whole silver, which made Darlae grumble a little but she wasn’t about to complain when a lot of things were in short supply. It was a shitty reminder that the couple of centuries between Heavenswars was more than enough time to have entire nations forget to be prepared.

Probably more so because the last time had been mild.

This is what the end of the world looks like. Darker days and higher prices. More stress on druids and witches and less to go around in cities...

Ironically the countryside had been consistently better off. Villages with generational knowledge of the Heavenswars or just some long-lived members kept better stores and were already compensating for the imminently shorter growing seasons to come.

Darlae had wanted to stay two days away from Nyandor - the capital of Nyandor - in a small village by the river Myander, but no, securing passage meant staying in the city where things could go from bad to worse at the drop of a hat.

Grumbling inside her head as she returned to the inn, she was about to head upstairs to await the medicine taking hold when the innkeeper - a sheepkin woman - approached.

"Mrs. Darlae, can I have a moment?" Rurhi asked.

Thankfully Darlae hadn’t discovered a new allergy to wool. "Uh, sure," she sniffed, imagining she looked frightful. "You can just call me Darlae."

She was led to the kitchen/inn counter where Rurhi picked up a small sheaf of papers and lay them out. "I know you said you and your wife were looking for adventurer-style work. Well, the guild sent a few tasks out this morning and you and your wife just missed them, so I figured I’d save them for you after that trouble you helped me out with."

That "trouble" had consisted of a trio of drunken leokin, which Darlae dealt with by picking them up under her arms and throwing them out the door when her allergies and their scratching on the tables had gotten too much for her to bear. The three men had been pretty small, being youths, and so it wasn’t all that difficult to manhandle them out the door by herself.

The first two leaflets were for "Demon Exterminations," and Darlae found herself recoiling a bit. Having a half-demon for a son had changed her perspectives somewhat, but also knowing the truth about the Heavenswars, that most of the demons killed were civilians. "Did these demons do anything?" Darlae asked.

"Well they’re near the city, so they’re probably gonna," Rurhi shrugged. "Better to snatch up those horns before someone else does," she chuckled. The quests, similar to ones Darlae had seen a couple of centuries ago, paid bounties "By the horns, tips to base intact, one-half silver each." If the pattern held, the bounties would pay less as more demons appeared.

There were two more quests. One for finding a missing cat - which Darlae decided to veto right away - and one for escorting a caravan bound for Isegard, far to the north. The last was absolutely a no, given how long it would take. Given how low on funds she and Bridget were, they wouldn’t be able to afford to stay in the city long without something, and Bridget had quickly learned she didn’t have the connections or supplies to set up her witchcraft practice.

So it was back to adventure-work, once they got things sorted out with the Guild. The tests had been surprisingly easy, and so they’d gone to the massage parlor to celebrate, hoping that Darlae’s allergies had quieted. They had not.

"Mind if I take a look at these in our room?" Darlae asked.

"Go ahead, deary. I trust Mrs. Bridget will be along later?"

"Yes," Darlae said, fighting the sinking feeling in her gut to keep a smile up. "We’ll talk about what to do over dinner or something."

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