Chapter 219: Five Durians

It just so happened that a second storm rolled in that evening. By that time, however, I’d already landed on my island and stashed a few durians in my cabin. Even though it’d been only one night, I already missed Nelys’s presence here.

But I wouldn’t be spending the night. At least I wouldn’t if I could just find the dang cave!

The dark wasn’t the problem; it was the rain. Even with my wind magic, I struggled to clear up enough of an area to search from the air. It forced me down and onto the ground where I could see into the crevices to look for any openings. Twin orbs of fire popped into life on my horn tips, casting long shadows and illuminating the eerie, otherworldly landscape.

The rock underfoot was new, unadorned by covering of leaves and beginnings of soil that were seen closer to the jungle’s edge. I’d never made a point of exploring this side of my island, and I began to worry whether an eruption had sealed the entrance we’d used over a year ago.

I was just about to turn back when the light from my horns shone into a narrow opening. Unlike what I remembered, this was something I could barely fit my arm through. By that same measure, I couldn’t see far into it, but I thought I could see it opening up.

Worst case scenario, it went into the volcano instead of down its inactive flank. Which would waste time I didn’t really have. I drew on my mana and pushed a wave of wind out and down the slope.

For a moment, the side of the mountain was visible in washed-out color, all the way down to the pounding surf. It… didn’t look familiar. But I’d only truly been here once and with many other things on my mind.

“I’ll try this, and then go home,” I whispered to myself, though the wind stole my words.

And how might a demon of my stature fit inside a significantly smaller opening? By barely avoiding the obvious innuendo and liberal use of demonic fire. I was reborn out of this volcano, and if that was hot enough to melt the rock, it stood to reason I could too. Besides, I melted sand back in Navanaea and I was much weaker back then.

I willed my hands as hot as I could get them; they wreathed in flickering flames whose color washed out of crimson toward a star-like white. I set them around the opening, like the four corners of a square and pulled.

The rock glowed and shifted, hissing loudly at my touch. I could almost believe this mountain didn’t want to give up its secrets. But with glowing rivulets running down past my feet and hissing to a stop in the rain, I kept pushing and pulling.

In a weird, weird way, it was like shaping clay. Slow going, too. So I took a deep breath and plunged forward into the rock, shouldering my way through until my claws touched air. Behind me, the Renna-shaped hole in the rock drooped half-closed, but ahead of me was a perhaps-familiar passage.

How was I supposed to remember one specific cave from another? At least I can’t get stuck this time!

To save time, I ran when I could and jogged when I couldn’t, until the cave opened up to a faintly familiar room with a very familiar stone building in it. Sharp peaked, and twenty meters tall, it loomed as large in the cavern as it first had a year ago. No windows—just solid stone. The only iconography was the familiar starburst of the pendant that had given me this chance at life. And whose symbol I still bore on my chest, surrounding my gem.

Only now I recognized the shape in the center, the familiar cut of my gem stood out, only just in the middle of the immense carved symbol.

We were here, not so long ago. Wingless Seyari in disguise, Lorelei and Markus alive. We also hadn’t closed the doors when we’d left. The opening showed hints of the automaton-holding room beyond. Without my vision, it probably would have been intimidating.

With careful steps, I walked inside. Faced with furtive memories and lingering unknowns, my steps were shorter, and I felt just a little less confident. Inside, the two automatons we’d fought stayed dormant.

Past them, in the sanctum… nothing had changed. Though I did jump when the braziers flickered to life with the same flames as my own. I checked the murals for anything we’d missed. Once again, I saw an island civilization grow, though I frowned at the cecaelia warring with them.

Moving quickly to the presumably later murals, I smiled when I noticed a few betentacled figures positioned peacefully. Were they… more humanoid looking? I had to ask Nelys about that someday. Maybe they weren’t the only one with a drive to explore the land.

I glanced over at the statue of not-male-me. Impassive as ever, it really did look uncanny. “Did you do that?”

No response. I turned back to look at the last panel. All I’d remembered was an army of various humanoids and a standard that Lorelei had confidently said was one of Dhias’s old ones. Now that I looked, though, most of the figures had pointed ears, including those in the lead. Maybe the elves and the people of what was today Navanaea? Those on the Turquoise coast as well? I didn’t see any Formid, the ant-like people.

I didn’t have anything to scribble the symbol on their banner down, but I did my best to memorize it. Dhias’s modern symbol was a ring with three marks: one directly down and one to either side, down and out. This symbol was… well, it was vaguely circular?

Honestly, it did look like a sun, but more of a blazing sun than a sun casting down. It looked somewhere between the symbol of Dhias and the starburst on my chest. But I dismissed that as a coincidence pretty quickly, since the starburst was drawn in clear detail on the opposing banner.

A round symbol? With something radiating off it? Sun, moon, magic: so many symbols used those as a base. For now, I committed the symbol to memory as best I could. Lorelei could well be right—it did look the part and she was a historian of sorts. But there was also a chance she was wrong. The glow, however, that was magic. Holy magic maybe.

It wasn’t enough to be definitive. No grand army of demons. No clashing angels. Thankfully, I had one other thing to look for this time.

I laid one hand over my gem as I looked for its shape. Or Lust, or any of the others. Sure enough, the familiar cushion cut popped out at me when I looked, snuck into nearly every mural and clearly at the center of the starburst. Wrath had led this place; why and how and when were what I had to ask.

The timing of the elves’ presence as conquerors pins it to before Navanaea, which spanned not only the lost era, but many years before. The fact that no battles the scale I’d wrought myself were depicted spoke of… well I wasn’t sure. Would they really be depicted in grand fashion in a building, or would no one have survived to do so? All I got from that last panel was a meeting of armies, perhaps an agreement had been reached.

So, this island was inhabited at some point before post-elven Navanaea, the Sovereign of Wrath was leader or similar, and it (probably) fell to the elves. Could Wrath have been away? Why would this Wrath be so different than the others from memory?

I wasn’t a historian—I was out of my depth. Perhaps I ought to write Lilly and bring her and Isidore here? When there’s not a war I’m callously putting off thinking about?

I’m being irresponsible right now, aren’t I?

I flopped onto the sanctuary floor and stared up at the ceiling. Ornate stars and the edges of clouds looked down on me.

Hadn’t we checked the ceiling?

We had—I remembered the blanket of stars. What I hadn’t remembered were the fine details in those stars, faint as though looking down on the world from beyond the firmament. Did we notice these before? I squinted. Even with eyes that could see small prey from a vast height, I saw only vague suggestions of figures in the sky—a line here, a shadow there. My old human glamour from back then had dulled my senses. And I didn’t remember anyone checking the vaulted ceiling in detail.

Now, I studied what was carved up there intently. Clouds, I recognized. The stars and moon gave way to what I could only assume to be the firmament. Beyond that… several deities watched. I recognized none of them, but even I knew that depictions changed often and drastically.

Subconsciously, I tried to match it to the church I’d gone to in Linthel all those years ago. It was different to say the least, multiple gods and no familiar symbols of Dhias. Actually… There were no symbols at all, except the starburst and the familiar shape of my gem.

Despite their position, the gods didn’t seem particularly important to the sky—clouds and stars were drawn in greater detail. There were also no angels, but I figured that was probably a given if the gods themselves took a back seat. Especially if this place was built by or for demons.

So, familiar symbols, no further clues as to how exactly I ended up like I am now, and not a single hint about any other Sovereigns. But I didn’t feel quite like leaving it at that. I made my way to the front of the sanctuary and knelt in front of the ancient statue.

With a closer inspection, this one’s horns were a little more ram-like, and their claws wider and less… elegant. I liked my claws. Best not insult the dead who probably passed their title down to me.

“Hey,” I started, unsure where I was going with all this. “I don’t know entirely how this place came to be, or how it ended. Well, you have the story carved on the walls, and it doesn’t make sense you’d be able to carve the end too. Sorry—I’m usually a little better with words.”

I cleared my throat and tried again. “You had a civilization here, and it was taken from you all. Then, a thousand years later I got my Name here. Whatever remnant of what was once here, thank you. I’m sorry I can’t figure out exactly what happened—I feel like there’s some Wrath I ought to be delivering on your behalf.

“But, well, thank you for all this. Seriously. Were I just a regular demon, I’d be dead now almost certainly. Things won’t be easy, but I’ll be doing my best and when it’s all over maybe I’ll build a nice, proper cottage here to spend my winter months with my beloved.”

I took a deep breath and let my words fade into silence before I stared up at the expression on the statue’s face. Jaw set, eyes forward, lips turned into what might either be a smile or forced neutrality. The sculptor had been a master, clearly. In the wake of my words that echoed about the chamber, not a single sound disturbed the still air. I stood without fanfare, turned, and walked out.

That night, I dreamt of a cottage on top of a volcano, with a large bath heated by lava that somehow didn’t torch the wood. Sey was right there with me, enjoying the boiling water with a sharp-toothed smile on her face. I didn’t mean to sleep, but I must have drifted off waiting for the familiar roar of the storm to die down. Before dawn, the clouds had started to clear. I took my armful of durians and jumped up into the sky, headed south.

I passed Port Princely, well and truly active in the early morning. Despite the wide berth I gave it, I surely caused a stir. No bird I knew of had wings of flame. By afternoon, I’d bumped into the Navanaean coast somewhere south of Ivlaet, and I passed Liseu in the evening. By night, I was flying over Lockmoth.

I didn’t dare take the time to chat, but I did still drop down as quietly as I could in front of the house I’d been given, where Drin and Tren were staying. A light dusting of snow had just fallen, and I imagined they’d wake to quite the sight in the morning: a single durian, left on the porch near a set of claw-toed footprints that ended abruptly in the middle of the road.

I left another one in front of Duchess Arina Kapel’s estate, though I didn’t have the luxury of a silent coming-and-going. The guards were thankfully informed of my appearance, but they were still startled and reluctant to take an off-smelling tropical fruit from me. They lost the argument to one of my winningest grins and I left Gedon one durian lighter.

The next and final stop was Bourick’s workshop. I simply landed in the open-air rear and planted the durian neatly on the anvil in the back. If he wasn’t working tomorrow, the cold would keep it safe. Just in case, however, I carved him a quick little note on a piece of scrap wood.

Yes, the smell is normal. Plug your nose if you need to.

-Renna

If there hadn’t already been a few shouts of alarm, I’d have done the same back in Lockmoth.

By the time I was flying into the familiar valley of Astrye, the sun was almost coming up again. I alighted on the balcony, opened the door, and was dragged bodily inside.

“You think you can just leave a note and go gallivanting off to the literal other side of the world and… what is that smell?”

“Durian!” I replied cheerily. “I got one for both of us!”

Seyari’s mouth dropped open and she glared at me. With one hand she reached up, grabbed my chin, and pulled me down into an aggressive kiss.

She needed air first, and I pulled her into a hug once our lips parted. “I missed you too! And I didn’t know you liked durians!”

She struggled in my two-armed grip, buffeting me with her wings. “I—you… Put the durians outside, Renna.”

I blinked.

“I don’t care about the fruit. I want you, and I don’t want that smell in here while I’m punishing you for running off like that.” She somehow slipped out of my grip, took a deep breath, and ruffled her feathers. “In a moment, anyway. Nelys got home safely, right?”

I nodded, placing the durians outside and closing the door. “You’ll never believe who else we ran in—”

She reached up and placed a finger on my lips. “I’m glad Nelys is home safe. Talk later, fuck now.”

“I thought you were going to—”

She grabbed one arm and threw me onto the bed. “Renna, I know you’re not that dense. We’ve got a days’ worth of shit to go over, and like hell I am doing it without doing you first.”

I curled my tail tip and grabbed the sheets with dull claws, unsummoning my clothes. “I’ve… been a bad girl?”

Sey threw off her nightgown, straddled me, met my eyes and groaned. “Not working.”

“I could try again? Maybe pout a little?”

“With your face?” Sey leaned down on me, chest to chest. “Nah. Besides, you’ve been pretty good lately, I’d say. No worse than me.”

I gave her a quick kiss.

She bit into my lip. “I’m still on top tonight.”