That’s not what I said!
I had not wanted that future, and having him lay it out for me only made me more determined.
I wanted this future.
The road forever open before me, the past forever at my back, the goodness of the God in my actions, and the certainty of his favor in my thoughts. Loyalty, duty, and service. The want of it felt like a hunger. It howled long and intent within my chest.
Well, the wanting alone might be enough, you never know.
Bold words for a knight who has just been arguing about underbritches.
Desperately, I had opened myself up, clearing my heart and mind of all else, ready to accept whatever came to me.
And at that moment, the demon struck, leaping from the dog and attempting to leap into me, and had I been anywhere but on my knees already, I think it would have knocked me off my feet entirely.
I shuddered again at the memory. I could still feel his fingers, like thick oil, trying to seep into my heart.
“You’re a paladin, then?” the first man asked, shaking me out of my memories the way Brindle would often shake a caught mouse.
To my surprise, the light in his eyes was pure relief. The other two sagged with him at my nod.
“Thank the God in all his aspects,” the broad-shouldered man muttered.
“I have a message for Sir Branson,” the third man said. “Or the nearest God-touched representative of the Rejected Aspect.”
“That would be me.” My voice rang in a way it never had before. Which was comforting, since I still wasn’t entirely sure I was telling the truth.
Look, when the demon leapt, clawing into me, something had stopped him. To me, it had appeared as if the heavens opened and a glory shone forth, struck the demon, and washed me of all guilt. In that moment, a bell rang in my head, bright and resonant.
But I would have been remiss if I did not point out that the demon’s leap had startled me, flinging me to the side, where I struck my head on a rock. It was entirely within the realm of reason that I could have seen a bright light and heard a ringing bell because my head was injured and now — when I declared myself to be what I was not — the God himself would strike me down.
So far, he had not done it.
I waited.
But perhaps he had merely stayed his hand.
Rejected God, throned in the glory men do not see, have mercy.
That prayer is a bit redundant if you’re a paladin, and if you are not, you deserve the fires of hell for your blasphemy.
Demon or mentor? Mentor or —
I’m really getting annoyed by how you harass her. Is it not enough that she’s stuck guarding the dog because of you? You have to also taunt her constantly?
One must pass the time how one can. I could practically hear the demon shrug. I’ve made a bet with myself that she will cut her own hand off before the full moon. And when she does, I will leap, and then I will feast on the inside of a pretty, tormented faithful one instead of a dog. I can hardly contain my excitement. She’s going to taste sooo good. I think I’ll make her last a very long time, consume her a single lick at a time, like nougat. Have you had nougat, knight? Do they give it to beggars? Or is it just one more way I best you?
“I’ll take your message,” I told the trembling youth, pushing my thoughts free of the two bickering in my head. The messenger was about my age, if I was any judge, his beard wispy and eyes furtive, but he nudged his horse forward and drew a missive from within his coat.
I stepped forward, hand out for the letter, but all three backed their horses up as if unconsciously wanting to be away from me.
“I don’t bite,” I said acidly. “Though you’re making me reconsider that stance.”
Trembling, the youth offered the letter a second time, and this time I snatched it from his pale fingers while I could.
It was elaborately sealed and ribboned. The feel of the fine parchment through my clay-smeared, torn gloves was so elegant that it made my skin crawl. Whatever this was, it was not good news.
You’re doomed, girl! And we get to watch! Brindle crowed in my mind and then dissolved into spine-tingling laughter.
