Flashes—
Alessia watched as men in red hooded robes cut down a tree.
She looked down. Her hands were bound.
The men split the tree into firewood.
A fire raced across the ground toward Alessia—
Alessia snapped awake. She looked at Korr, snoring loudly. Then at the angel. At his remaining feathers...
Nimbus woke up. He looked around the empty room. Rubbed his face. Looked over his shoulder. Saw his destroyed wings.
Damn.
He threw a cloak over them and left.
The angel came down to the bar and found Alessia and Korr drinking in a shadowy corner.
“Thank you for saving me back there. I’m Nimbus, Seraph of the Seventh Light.”
Alessia stared at him, unsure.
“I’m Korr, and this is Alessia. We’re... adventurers.”
“Looked to me like you’re grave robbers.”
“I assure you—robbing graves can be quite an adventure,” Alessia said.
“Be that as it may, I must warn you about what you’ve done. You’ve stolen a cursed item.”
Korr and Alessia squinted their eyes.
“The ring. My kind can smell it.”
“And...” Korr said.
“Yōkai will haunt you for it. And if they don’t get you, demons will.”
As if on cue, a cold breeze blew through the bar, snuffing out a few candles.
After a beat, everything resumed.
“Then we better get moving,” Alessia said.
She started to rise, but Nimbus grabbed her wrist. Tense. “It doesn’t work like that.”
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“I know how it works. There are clerics out there that can remove curses.” She held up the ring. “And a mystic foretold that this would bring my magic back.”
The angel put his hand over the ring, hiding it. “You mortals never understand divination. Besides, something much worse than a simple curse is afoot.”
Korr and Alessia glanced at each other.
Alessia waved her hand. “You have until I’m finished with my beer.”
Nimbus held up a candle.
“This land used to be beautiful and safe.”
The shadows danced on the wall, morphing into shapes—a handsome king and queen standing before a majestic castle.
“Even the yōkai in the shadows were benevolent. Until something happened to the Mad King Indulf.”
The shadow-king sat on a throne, his silhouette twisting into something demonic.
“When the king’s wife died, he made a deal with Minos—the demon you met—allowing his soul to be a conduit for evil.”
The shadows spread like spilled ink across a shadow-countryside.
“The infection started with his tomb. It raced across the land, spreading like a fire.”
A winged figure faced the demon in the flickering dark.
“I tried to stop it. But Minos was too powerful. I turned everyone to stone—a last-ditch effort. Now that Minos is back, the evil will continue to spread.”
The candle guttered, and the shadows were just shadows again.
Alessia leaned forward. “Spooky. What’s it got to do with us?”
“With Minos freed, the gates of hell will open, unleashing chaos and destruction. Demons will march across the world, burning everything and everyone.”
“That does sound bad,” Korr said.
“I need your help. Together we can cleanse the land.”
Korr and Alessia looked at each other, and then burst into laughter.
Alessia said, “We don’t do suicide missions.”
Nimbus leaned forward. “Please.”
Alessia shook her head. “If what you say is true, it would take a team of elite heroes armed to the teeth with relic gear. They would have to travel beyond our realm, into the Spirit Realm—battle demons, and heal a cosmic wound bigger than anything a mortal has ever tampered with.”
“Exactly. And you will have me.”
“You? Wow. With what, three feathers left?”
“It only takes one.”
“We’re not heroes,” Korr said. “We don’t do these kinds of jobs. Aren’t there more angels or something?”
Nimbus banged his fist on the table. “There isn’t time.” He composed himself. “It has to be you. You woke me.”
“No. A ghost did that.”
She got up and left. Korr followed with an apologetic look.
Alessia and Korr were loading up horses.
“I could make you richer than your wildest dreams,” Nimbus said.
Korr looked interested, but Alessia’s expression turned his attention back to gearing up.
Nimbus tried a different tack. “I can rid your ring of the curse.”
“We have to do that, right?” Korr said. “Seems valuable.”
“I don’t care about your war,” Alessia said.
“What if I could get you back your magic? Your connection to The Source.”
A long pause. A glance between Alessia and Korr.
“That’s impossible,” Alessia said.
“It isn’t. An angel’s feather would be able to restore your gift. Create the bridge inside of you again.”
Alessia breathed heavily. She wanted this. But— “I... I can’t.”
Suddenly shadows grew around them. Small yōkai danced around them, attacking.
Everyone stumbled backward. Alessia pulled out her journal.
She fumbled through the pages as Korr hit the yōkai with his ax. They poofed into magical mist, swirling back to the Spirit Realm.
A particularly nasty spirit got near Alessia.
“Schwed yper, Lent yar.”
The yōkai became harmless versions of themselves and disappeared.
“Pretty soon it won’t just be yōkai,” Nimbus said. “It’ll be full-blown demons.”
He offered his hand to help her up. But Alessia pushed it away and rose on her own.
The angel asked kindly, “Don’t you want to be able to do that without the book anymore? With your own magic.”
Alessia caught her breath, unable to make eye contact.
He continued. “I know how it feels. To reach out to The Source you once had. But it isn’t there.”
“You can really get my magic back?”
“Yes.”
She reached out an arm. They clasped forearms.
“Deal.” She turned to Korr. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Alessia and Korr walked toward their horses.
Nimbus shook his head, confused. “Wait—where are you going?”
Alessia swiftly climbed her mount.
“To gather a team.”
She spurred the horse and was off.