Upper Heliodor, her home, was an upside-down island floating over its Lower counterpart like a mirror image. Today, a haze of moisture hung between the split city like a curtain hiding a restricted room.

“Let’s go, Spinel. We’ve got scouting to do.”

Her little friend had just finished the leaf, flipped in the air, and flew into her waiting hands.

Ansgarde flew into the clouds, enjoying the rush of air in her ears, and broke through the midpoint zone. What was up had become down, and the gravity pulling her in the other direction became stronger. This was the best part. She loved falling toward Lower Heliodor.

The colorful assortment of buildings, so different from the calm beige of her home, grew larger in her view. The closer she was, the faster she was falling. She was a ball of focus when she glided over the red lake and didn’t relax until her feet scraped the tips of the grass. By the time she stopped, her teeth were dry from grinning. Flying in this strong gravity was dangerous, but it left her with a palpitating heart and an invigorated mind.

To reserve strength for the returning trip, she walked into the city. She didn’t mind though. It allowed her a better view.

Sometimes she wished she lived down here. Unlike Upper Heliodor, which was occupied exclusively by Empyreals and rarely got any visitors, Lower Heliodor was home to hundreds of demon races. The few that had wings, had them attached to their arms, which turned them into weak fliers, often too weak to even reach Upper Heliodor. Gliding was their only talent.

“I need a new character,” she told Spinel who flew next to her, pirouetting in a little dance. “Sadie needs a master runecaster. Be on the lookout for a demon with a mysterious vibe.”

She arrived at the trade street and tried to memorize everything she observed. Her tales came to life when she used real settings and gave her characters an exotic look. She wouldn’t get this inspiration back home.

“Is there a horned-demon convention today?”

Giant crescent moons towered over the heads of the crowd, mixed with spiral spikes as if competing for the title of the “horniest” demon in the city. She peeked between the warm bodies to see what the commotion was about. Spinel hovered above her and pointed out the source of the excitement.

The crowd parted to let through two scaly, young demons who raced by in a blur. Their hooves clopped on the stone pavers while the spectators cheered. Spinel rooted for the shorter of the two.

“No, not Verrines,” Ansgarde said. “They’re too common.”

“Do you want to bet?” An orange-skinned demon asked in a high-pitched voice, holding up a sign-up sheet and a leather purse.

Ansgarde smiled while shaking her head. This young demon was a Calopus - a rare race. The two forked tails and short, serrated horns were an interesting combo, but she didn’t get that “Aha!” feeling when looking at her. This wasn’t the special character she needed.

A flash of gold caught her eye, and she called Spinel over. She didn’t know what demon she had just spotted, but glowing golden eyes would be perfect.

They followed the tall figure through the market. The faded blue cloak he was dressed in was a phenomenon she witnessed only down here. Empyreals prided themselves on appearances. Their signature long-sleeved tunics and loose trousers were identical in style, the only variance was in color and embroidery. Their houses were the same but for the curtain color, dictated by the household. Empyreals treasured harmony, order, and uniformity.

In contrast, Lower Heliodor went from extremes, lavishly dressed demons, who adorned themselves with gems, precious metals, or embossed leather, to the lower class demons who, like this golden-eyed individual, wore old scraps of fabric Ansgarde’s mother wouldn’t even wipe the floor with. Then, there were the Succubi, who barely wore anything at all, flaunting their bare skin as if their beauty wasn’t enough to attract mates.

Ansgarde wasn’t blessed with vivid beauty like these Succubi. Her thin silvery hair was best hidden in a braided bun. The bluish undertone of her skin combined with powder-blue silk she wore made her a walking vision of dullness. Even her eyes were pale sapphire-blue. She wished her household color was more vibrant.

Still, down here, she was the elusive rarity. Two imps on the corner gave her appreciative winks, which made her blush. She knew they only noticed her for her leathery wings, but it was a welcome change to feel special for a moment.

She was so lost in thought, she nearly lost the golden-eyed demon she was following. She spotted his cloak at a trading table and dodge the crowd to get closer.

He pulled a flying fish from under the cloak to offer in exchange for leather gloves. Ansgarde winced, knowing the outcome before he heard it. It wasn’t an equal trade. No deal was made.

The merchant waved him off in dismissal, but the demon thanked him nonetheless. He turned towards Ansgarde and smiled in passing. She looked into those glowing eyes only to be disappointed. His pupils were round - he was a human cambion.

She encountered those poor half-breeds down here occasionally. For reasons unknown to her, some demons crossed over to the Earth realm and mated with humans - the dreariest creatures in all the realms. You could recognize the resulting cambions easily by their eyes. Demons had slitted pupils, and their irises filled the whole eye. Human pupils were as round as the depths of a dry well. Their irises were small and surrounded by white. It weirded her out.

It was a shame that such a pretty eye color was diluted with human blood. He would’ve made an attractive demon otherwise with his shimmering onyx skin and sharp features. But she could fix that in her story. This character could be an unexpected ally that would provide the emergency push her hero needed.

She turned to Spinel to tell her the news, but her friend was occupied with the flower market.

“Do you ever stop eating?” she complained.

Spinel maneuvered out of the florist’s grasp, holding the stem of an orange flower with one tongue-like petal.

“One of these days, they’ll catch you ,and you’ll be sorry,” Ansgarde warned as her little demon landed on her shoulder.

They continued down the street, lurking into noisy taverns, smiling in response to the deals offered by street traders. As usual, Ansgarde didn’t actually talk to anyone, not knowing what to say, but she was part of the crowd, almost one of them.

If her mother saw her now, she would have flown into a wall. Her precious daughter among the boisterous Lower Heliodor. What a scandal! Ha! But what Mother didn’t know, didn’t concern her. Ansgarde was not a spawn anymore.

The flight home was exhausting. She couldn’t comprehend how the local demons lived with this gravity, but she was in great spirits when she arrived. She had fresh images to describe with her quill, new characters to bring to life.

The red sun had settled beyond the horizon, and everyone’s curtains were drawn when she landed on the balcony to her chamber.

Spinel sat on the balustrade and enjoyed the remnants of her flower.

“Does Nightcaster sound like a good character name?”

“Ai oh ee,” Spinel answered with a full mouth.

“I’m glad you like it.”

A faint line of light escaped from between drawn curtains to her room.

“Strange. Did I leave the crystals on?”

She parted the fabric, and her heart skipped a beat from surprise. Her mother was in her chamber, sitting on a corner stool, a promise of scolding in her unforgiving eyes.

“We have to talk.”