Ch 4 – I’m totally not putting off super important introspection about being a (cute) demon girl by focusing on everything else that’s happening

“T-there was a complication.” Thamus shuffled his feet, as much as one could shuffle their feet in this false space: a small pocket of reality adjacent to the Natural Realm. He was supposed to be at the assembly of the Consulum, but that wasn’t currently why the young man stood there pale faced and on a knife’s edge.

“A complication,” the unnatural voice repeated in a slow and eerie tone. Thamus had never fully gotten used to it, despite the number of times he’d been called on to appear here. It held that alien, oddly layered rhythm that indicated—whomever, or whatever, they were—their voice was being magically disguised or modified.

Thamus visibly shivered as he stared at the vaguely humanoid shadow ahead, wishing he did know just who and what he was working for. Some kind of demon? A powerful teacher? Something or someone else? He’d even considered the possibility of some kind of lesser deity, and not the sort one would want to pledge themselves to. Though that was an unlikely scenario.

The worst part was that both the voice and shadow were near impossible to read in tone or body language. And they felt weirdly disconnected from each other. Was the being angry with him? It was usually safest to assume they were.

“I-I swear I did as you asked! I switched the book for the fake. B-but—”

The shadow shifted, and suddenly, Thamus’s stuttering ramble ceased, silenced by some kind of spell.

“Tell me of what transpired,” came the discordant words, seemingly from nowhere at all.

With a jerky nod, he gave an account of the demonic summoning attempt, making sure not to forget anything important. Thamus didn’t even consider dishonesty here. The shadow always knew when he lied or left things out. For all Thamus knew, the being may well have already known most of what he was telling it now.

He should have never agreed to serve it, no matter what it promised in exchange. It didn’t matter that the shadow actually made good on such promises. Somehow, that fact almost made things worse.

As Thamus finished, the voice let out a loud, discordant rumble of noise that could have been anything from a demonic growl, to a sigh, or a scream. Perhaps even a laugh? The young man wasn’t sure. It reverberated through the large space in such a way that he had to adjust his feet, everything tilting as though off-balance. Worse, he had no idea if the shadow was enraged, pleased, or relieved. He hoped it was one of the latter. Usually, the only emotion it revealed was anger and annoyance—aimed at Thamus himself. Though if the being was some kind of demon, surely the strange demonic transformation that Gellin went through was a good development?

A long moment of silence followed. The young man could do nothing but fidget in place and wait. He hoped the shadow would dismiss him soon.

“Your observance of Gellin is concluded,” the eerie voice finally spoke, its words carrying a sense of finality.

Thamus waited a moment for more, only to receive more silence. “So then, I don’t need to follow and watch him anymore, or report things to you?”

“Yes,” the voice growled out. “Your first task is complete.” Each word came with a booming echo. The young man could feel the being’s acute annoyance in every syllable.

Despite that, Thamus’s shoulders sagged in relief. He was so ready to be done with all of this, the shadow and Gellin both. Not to mention, continuing to follow and watch the Zelian boy would have proven difficult, to put it mildly. If that even was Gellin anymore. Whatever happened to the short priss, the little shit had it coming, if you asked Thamus. He hated serving under that obnoxious ‘man.’

The thought almost made him smirk. He wasn’t much of a man any longer, that much was certain. It was fitting. Gellin always seemed a bit on the soft side, in his mind. He had a bit of muscle in those short arms, sure, but he was rarely willing to make use of them. Thamus knew the little Zelian had been trained to fight and kill and could probably best most of the men in their year. Yet he was far too concerned with ‘lying low’ in the school, rather than dominating the competition. Pure cowardice.

Thamus hoped he could find someone better to serve, or if he was lucky, have the cunning and power to simply stand on his own this time. He was tired of being under someone’s boot.

Finally, the shadow stirred once more. “I will call for you when you are needed again. Leave,” the voice said.

Traces of a spell followed, swallowing the ‘room.’ Thamus blinked, and then in a gust of magic, disappeared.

…

Seconds later, a young woman appeared right where he’d stood, a circle of light marking her entrance.

She gave a small bow toward the unnamed shadow. “You’ve called?” It was more so a statement than a question. The summons was painfully unmistakable, as much as she hated accepting it.

“Tell me of Vivia.”

“She is much the same as before. Still excelling in her runic forms and making great strides, but she appears to still have some struggles with learning the language itself.”

“And the issue with Xaven?”

“Dealt with,” she said succinctly.

“Excellent. Consider your assignment over. I have a new charge for you to follow and observe.”

The woman blinked, surprised. “A new one, sir?” Then she coughed, nervously, realizing what she’d said. The shadow hated when she referred to it in such a way. It was insistent on its continued anonymity. “Apologies.”

They ignored the slip. “The student known as Gellin. Begin much as you did before.”

There was something slightly off about the voice, the woman thought, a tone that sounded almost… expectant. It was odd to hear. Something was afoot, though she couldn’t begin to guess what.

And she was certain the name was familiar. A freshman student, perhaps?

Regardless of who they were, the task was going to prove annoying. The shadow actually wanted her to spy on a man this time? She frowned. Exactly how was she expected to pull that off? Best not to openly question ‘him.’ She’d just have to figure it out herself.

“Of course,” she replied, holding back a sigh. Staring toward the shadow, she gave it a bow before it dismissed her with a shadowy wave.

— — —

“Surely we can make one small detour for a bit of clothing and a few—”

Professor Fell twisted sharply around. A flash of light sparked from a pointed finger, piercing through my shoulder with a loud pop. I yelped and stumbled back. A hand instinctively reached back to rub the spot where the static mnemon hit me.

“You seem to have some difficulty in following instructions, succubus.” I had to hold in a sneer. Being called a succubus was quickly getting old. “If I wanted to hear you speak, I would tell you to speak. Test my patience once more and I’ll have someone carry you unconscious the rest of the way. Understood?”

I met her eyes, my own narrowing into a glare. I was liking this woman less and less by the moment. Was she always this annoying? A detour for a bit of clothing really wasn’t that much to ask for. Especially considering that I was about to be assigned a room with a roommate. I was going to miss having my own space to myself.

The professor glared back. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being the first to look away. Finally, the woman grit her teeth and reached forward, stepping toward me. Faster than I could have anticipated, she jabbed her hand into my side. Another loud and painful pop struck me, causing a squeal to slip out past my lips.

My fingers itched along my side, searching for blades that weren’t there. Lucky bitch.

Teeth ground together in my mouth, their sharp points making the habit decidedly painful. As the professor raised her hand to threaten me with another shock, I finally answered.

“Y-yes, professor.” I did my utmost to sound contrite, but doubted just how successful I was.

She eyed me for a spare moment longer, before turning and continuing through the expansive courtyard toward the girl’s dorm. I was quick to get in step behind her, not willing to test her ire.

The simple cantrip she’d used was easily recognizable, though one I’d rarely ever been on the receiving end of—a small static shock amplified by magic. While it was harmless and fairly easy to pull off, the annoying spell could still have quite the painful bite. Useful to keep servants and the like in line. Or demons, I supposed.

Was this the sort of thing I had to look forward to from now on? No—not ‘from now on.’ Just until I managed to change back. I couldn’t deny that becoming… this was a devastating setback, but I was determined to recover from it. No matter what it took. My hands balled into fists, nails biting into my skin.

The first obstacle was facing this new ‘roommate’ and then getting my bearings beneath me. Then I could worry over solving the issue of the demon in my head and finding a way to transform back. At least the demon invading my mind had gone silent for now, declaring she needed ‘rest.’ Part of me suspected it was a lie, and she was still in there, quietly listening. Though I supposed that even demons slept?

I needed a plan—something drastic. Blood would likely be shed by the day’s end. I’d make certain it wasn’t mine.

My fingers gripped the cape tighter, stretching it more firmly around me as we approached the women’s dorm. But no matter how tightly I held it, I still felt like I was walking fully naked through the world. It didn’t matter that the fabric covered my body; my nature was clear to any who could see us, and I could still feel the occasional cool breeze between my legs as though to taunt me. Somehow, my peers seeing me like this felt so much more terrifying than the professor. Perhaps because I wasn’t likely to interact with the annoying woman again for quite a while.

We moved up the steps and Professor Fell entered through the large white doors. I had a moment of hesitation as I passed through the barrier and in. Bright sunlight shone through the large windows of the entry hall, sunning the various potted plants and glittering off silver shields and trinkets along the walls. It was my first time inside the women’s dorm, but I had to admit it had a much brighter and more open atmosphere than the men’s. Even the floors were a clean marbled white, opposed to the gloomy stone that I was used to. It went well with the white and red colors of the academy that hung ever-present along the hall, from the curtains, to the rugs, or the occasional hanging tapestry that displayed the academy’s iconic white dragon.

A young woman sat at a small desk, seemingly guarding the door. Likely a girl from one of the lesser families who was in need of funds. An upperclassman, I’d guess, not that it mattered. Under normal circumstances, were we to pass by each other somewhere in the academy, I wouldn’t bother to give her the time of day, and she would likewise avert her gaze. Despite the academy’s insistence otherwise, one’s family status did matter.

The way her gaze pierced into me as the professor and I strode toward her made it clear that these were far from normal circumstances. I felt utterly exposed, as though I had not even a strip of fabric to cover me. Did she know who I was, or was I just some random succubus in her eyes? I wasn’t sure which possibility I hated more.

I couldn’t help but edge slightly closer to the professor as we moved in. She either didn’t notice or didn’t particularly care. Still, I grit my teeth at the small show of weakness on my part. It was early Saturday morning, and most students would still be in the dorms, many still asleep. I couldn’t hope to be lucky enough to not run into anyone else on the way to my ‘new room.’ Plus, I had to get used to the strange stares and other such annoyances, at least until I was back in my normal body.

As though summoned by my thoughts, two students turned the corner from the left side of the building, heading our way. Each wore the distinguishable white robes of the women’s uniform, as well as the standard red and white bow tie and blouse. Only their short black skirts and belts deviated from the school colors. Though, I had to admit that the black accents tied the uniform all together quite well.

They stopped whatever conversation they’d been in the middle of as they spotted us, each eyeing me in what I hoped was simple curiosity. The two girls nodded toward Professor Fell as we approached.

One slowed and said, “Good morning, Professor Fell.”

The professor paused just in front of me, and I skid to a stop, nearly bumping directly into her. In my unease, I’d drifted so close that I was practically hovering behind her in our walk. There was a bigger question on my mind, though.

Why were we stopping?!