“What do we do now?”

Jarl watches as Hagen passes a damp cloth over their friend’s mildly hot forehead. The cabin is eerily quiet, devoid of all chanting, arguing, and discussing. Even Áesta is quiet, tucked into the corner of the couch with the wooden board Manus brought in his lap. He’s cleaning it with a cloth: methodically removing dirt and debris from the delicately curving roots as though he’s meditating during the process. Perhaps he is.

The priest’s crucifix lays heavy in his pocket, both erecting a barrier between him and the daemon beside him as well as offering Jarl a solemn reminder: Faith is not a thing here; there is only what is. (What???)

It’s not lost on the priest that he could probably take this opportunity to run or fly away to the Devil’s Cavern (and Jasey) by himself, like he’d planned to do from the start, now that his biggest anchor is incapacitated. But the strange words of that female voice—of the Oak Tree—haunt him: his faith cannot help him here.

If a man of faith is robbed of that faith’s capabilities…

What does that man of faith do???

~

“Perhaps it vould be best for you to go alone, after all.”

Jarl looks up, shocked, as Hagen covers their magical friend with a blanket. The doctor half of Witch Doctor looks haggard and worn, the blood from his temple’s gash clotted and mottled against his hair line.

He’s already wounded and they’ve yet to even leave the house.

What have they gotten themselves into? (What has Jasey?)

~

“Technic’ly, ‘e wouldn’t be goin’ alone,” Áesta offhandedly comments as he finishes polishing the Axis Mundi, “Ah’ll be goin’ wit’ ‘im.”

The daemon sets the board back down—again, between them—before looking pointedly at Jarl. “W-wha…?”

“Yer gonna need ta keep feedin’ me anyway—ta keep yer powers up and ta repay me services—and, remember, t’is guy wants me; it’s bether Ah go anyway.”

“He has a point,” Hagen sighs. He sits himself on the coffee table before them, close enough to talk while closer still to Manus—just in case. “A few, actually. If z’is person is capable of… making a barrier, as z’ey said, z’ere is no telling vhat else z’ey are capable of. I know you got super powers from Áesta, but…”

“There’s… no way… you’re facing this alone…”

The group turns to see Manus struggling to get up from the couch adjacent. Alarmed, Jarl and Hagen both get up to help or hinder him—they aren’t even sure which—but end up halted by the stubborn magician’s hand.

“There’s no way I’m just… sitting here while Jasey’s in trouble!”

The mage stands, fueled by fury and feist, and Jarl suddenly feels better, less alone, and stronger somehow. This person who can undo even a daemon’s magic, who can teleport through time and space (if unhindered), and who isn’t just knowledgeable in the strange things Jarl’s about to walk into but also loves Jasey dearly…

If he’s on Jarl’s side…

This can be done.

~

“Yer gonna have ta.”

Suddenly, Áesta’s off the couch: Jarl blinks and the little daemon’s beside Manus and shoving him back down. The magician yelps, rather comically, and lands in a groaning heap on the couch he just managed to get off. The golden-eyed man flails while growling and cursing the green being beside him.

Áesta giggles, “Ye can barely stand, yer powers are depleted from attemptin’ such a big teleportation, and ye’re jus’ gonna slow Priesty Boy down, at t’is point;” and then he gently pats Manus’ head, “Rest, Handsy.”

Awed—by both the sheer softness in Áesta’s actions and also at the fact that they worked (Manus calmed: the same wildfire force that had always managed to win arguments with Jarl as he grew up, has calmed!)—the priest takes a moment to process what he’s really seeing—hearing—before he frowns, “Priesty Boy???”

~

“I can still take you there,” Manus assures from under Áesta’s petting hand.

Jarl thinks Áesta’s doing something to the magician—a calming spell or something to keep him complacent (Can daemons really do that, though?)—and wonders what else, exactly, can this little green devil do? “Yea?”

“It’ll… be in increments… And it wouldn’t be wise… to go right up to the door… so to speak… but… yea…”

Manus passes back out and Hagen hurries to check on him. Áesta moves back to Jarl—but he grabs the priest instead of just sitting down. The brunette gasps as he’s pulled up and away from his friends, alarmed (Hey, he’s still dealing with a daemon, ok; even if Áesta is proving to be a lot [cuter] softer than foretold…).

He’s seconds away from wrenching his hand back when the daemon stops.

They’re in Jarl’s study. The human frowns down at the green devil, about to ask what he thinks he’s doing, when he’s suddenly answered without even having to question: “Ah need a meal and ye need ta sleep.”

Jarl stares at him incredulously, “What?”

Áesta sighs huffily, “Ye constantly t’inkin’ me cute is great an’ enough if all Ah’m doin’ is helpin’ Manus—and yer not even usin’ t’e super powers yet—but calmin’ Handsy’s took some outta me an’ I was half t’ere alre—” The daemon gasps as Jarl grabs his shoulders, eyes wild and wide, “ady…”

“What do you mean you were—‽”

The green creature looks at the priest strangely—almost fearfully—before shoving him off. Jarl stumbles back, a bit surprised by the force behind that tiny frame (He really has to remember that this is a daemon.), and ends up slamming back-first into the door (Which reminds him… did Manus fix the spare room’s door?). It shudders behind him, but holds, and keeps him in place as the tiny daemon advances upon him.

This is definitely not cute.

“Ah told ye: Ah’m not really here anyway. Ah only needed a connection ta t'e Axis Mundi so Ah could track ye all as ye travelled t’rough it. Ah can come an’ go as Ah please because Ah’m not really part o’ yer world.”

That… makes sense: Jarl did summon him here, after all.

But… “Does that mean… you can just go and—?”

“O’ course not! Even if Ah could go t’ere easily, Ah’d still ‘ave no way o’ getting’ yer brot’er home safe ot’er t’an walkin’ ‘im back (hwhich Ah’m sure ye don’t want) and t’e guy t’at stole ‘im pro’ly won’t just le’me go!”

The two stare heatedly at each other for several seconds. Eventually, Jarl nods acceptingly and lets it go.

Áesta relaxes and calms before returning to the reason they’re in the study, “We bot’—We all need rest.”

Jarl sighs heavily through his teeth. It sounds a lot like hissing. Running a hand through his hair, the priest nods in agreement (He’s tired too, after all, and it does sound like he’s about to embark on a long journey.). He then fidgets, “I… how…?” He fumbles, remembering the horrible and humiliating meal he gave earlier.

But the daemon looking at him, like he’s a feast, only sighs, “Jus’… let yerself t’ink Ah’m cute—it ain’t hard!”

So he says. But he’s green with sharp teeth and even sharper eyes. His claws aren’t too cute either. Are they on his toes, too? Does he have toes or hooves? What about a tail? He doesn’t have horns (Unless they’re hidden by his hair? It’s pretty floofy.) or horrifically burnt wings like Jarl assumed all daemons would have…

Áesta groans, “Yer not feedin’ me!”

“I-I’m trying!” And he is! Or isn’t. Okay, fine. “Do… Do something!”

Áesta raises an eyebrow.

“Do something… cute…” Jarl winces at the word, still hating it. Still hating all of this.

But it’s for Jasey.

Appearing to understand where this is going, the daemon silently nods—before he starts purring. Like a cat. There’s a small smile on his face, too, like he’s happy and amused. Like a coy little cat.

So cute.

His smile widens and his purr gets louder. Jarl’s… honestly kind of mesmerized. It’s such a nice sound. Calming. Peaceful. Adorable.

Something about Áesta changes, then.

His pupils become lighter—morphing from a dark blue to pale pink—and wider. They’re still rhombuses, but now they’re almost the whole of his iris, looking eerily similar to cats’ eyes at night when they catch the light. His smile stretches more, too: becoming more of a cattish smirk and allowing more of that sound out.

It’s really…

“Jarl?”

~

The priest swings open the study’s door to find Hagen in the hallway.

The apothecary jolts at the sudden appearance of his friend before calming, “Manus vill be fine.”

Jarl nods, swallowing thickly, “G-Good! Good. Um…”

Áesta slides past them, smiling happily, “Ye should eat, too.”

(Jarl doesn’t answer Hagen’s questioning look; he’s sure the doctor will figure it out.)