Cory recovers quickly, with the help of healing spells and the extraordinary reparative powers or exorcist blood. They haven’t seen Finny in a week, and they aren’t sure if they want to. The yelling match from last Friday still haunts their brain. They shake their head, trying to pay attention to Rick’s lesson on battle tactics. It doesn’t work. Instead, their eyelids flutter shut as they begin to fall asleep…
“Little King, you have returned. You left so quickly last time.” A demon steps closer to them, bowing deeply. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival. As much as we wish to meet your…more physical form…we will settle for this corporeal one. Quickly, we have matters that require your attention, my Little King.” Cory’s dream body (or whatever they are inhabiting right now) gets up to follow the demon. It is well dressed and humanoid, with clawed bird feet visible under a colonial style dress. The skin tone is a grayish purple, and small feathered wings peak out from the back. The eyes on its face are wide and angular, the whole of them a glittering black. The mouth is not a beak, but rather lips and teeth sharper than a blade. The demon has silky black hair swept up into a tight bun. The hands also appear to resemble a bird. Other similar creatures roam the halls, animalistic in detail, human in figure.
The bird demon stops before a large, elegantly carved wooden door. It bows deeply at Cory before quickly heading off. The doors open slightly, a reptilian creature manning it from the inside. It beckons Cory inside. Cory’s dream body moves again, stepping past the doors and into a cavernous room. Large pillars stretch up to the ceiling, arching up to meet each other at the top. Chandeliers, evenly spaced, dot the center beam. Lit torches line the pillars, and lanterns perch on the walls just beyond. A brazier lies in the center of the room, a gilder throne behind it. A memory flashes in Cory’s head: his first dream of this place. They were sitting on that very throne, a throned crown on their head as blood oozed down. They shudder briefly before continuing forward.
“My Little King, how fortunate. You have returned.” A form, silhouetted by backlighting, leaps from some perch on the ceiling. A large, fully formed pair of wings billows out to catch air, slowing the plummet. The wings, though hard to make out details, put the others Cory had seen on the walk to shame. They stretch longer than two times the body they attack too, and when the fold back up, drag along the floor. Feathers trail behind. When the figure gets close enough, Cory can begin to make out features. The face is sharp and angular, long hair tied in a messy braid off to one shoulder. The build is skinny, but not unhealthily so, and paired with the height, makes it appear as if the person has been stretched like taffy. The clothes are different than the others in this strange place, a mix of luxury and purpose. Unlike the others, the only animalistic component of this one seems to be the wings. Though the eyes have a black color, the irises glow an almost unworldly purple. “Do you truly not remember anything? Not even me?” The figure stalks closer. In more light, Cory can tell that their whole hue seems to be purple. Indigo hair, violet eyes, a grey purple skin tone. Even the wings are like ink stained purple, with dark tips fading to a more pleasing intense plum shade. Gold markings offset this, giving the figure an image of royalty and power. They exude confidence and importance. “Surely you remember me, my Little King.” Closer and closer still , till they stand just a foots length from Cory. One of their hands, the nails sharp and talon-like, reaches up to rest on Cory’s cheek, gently tracing the cheek bones. Cory shivers. “Well then, I suppose I should reintroduce myself. But I must insist on doing it face to face, Little King. Goodbye for now.” He waves his hand and the dream fades to darkness.
They awake with a gasp, startled. The room is empty, all of the other kids having left for the lunch break. Tam is shaking them awake. “Cory! It’s time for lunch, you sleepy head.” Cory blinks, rubbing sleep sand out of their eyes. “Such a strange dream…” They mutter beneath their breath, allowing Tam to drag them to the lunch room. They bring a notebook, idly sketching as they listen to the gossip. Avery, one of their friends, looks over their shoulder. “How pretty! Who is that supposed to be?” Cory looks down at the drawing, mentally facepalming. They drew the demon from their dream. The details are perfect, though in an attempt to remember now, they can only piece together fragments. “I don’t know, just something from a dream, I guess.” They shrug it off, closing the notebook and eating in an uncomfortable silence.
By the time the last class ends, Cory is mentally exhausted and their notebook is filled with doodles of the mysterious man. They’ll color them in when they get home. As they exit the school, Finny stops them. “Hey, about…last week, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I was worried about you, but you can handle yourself.” He scratches at the back of his neck nervously. Cory smiles a little. Finny can be proud, but he knows when to swallow his ego and apologize. “It’s fine, glad we can be friends again. How has your week gone?” The pair settle into an easy walk with side conversations as they head toward their houses. “Talk to you later?” Cory says hopefully as Finny separates to go to his house. “Sure.” He nods.
Cory eats dinner at their house, before quickly finishing the homework for the day. Before the sun even begins to set, they doze off again at their desk. The dream comes quickly, and they appear in the same spot they wear last. This time, however, the man is on the throne. He looks annoyed. “You know, my Little King, just because we cannot reach you yet does not mean you can dally with such…meager options. You are not available for him, and nor shall you be.” The voice is louder, more threatening than before. “You may not remember me, but I certainly remember you.” He stalks closer. “And one thing you must never forget…is who you belong with, and who you don’t. Those silly Exorcists, believing they have the rights…” He scoffs, before sitting back on the throne. “Again, you must leave, but I leave you with that warning, my Little King.”
They once more wake, startled. This time, it seems the man had sent them away not because they were waking up, but because of his anger. They sigh, before texting Finny. The conversation goes for a while before sputtering out and dying. So then they text Tam, who immediately starts sending long walls of text full of all the latest gossip. Eventually they just decide to go practice fighting. Getting up, Cory changes into their gear and heads to the empty barn. It seems as if everything is calm and empty, as if life was a routine missing a checkbox. As they drill themselves on basics, their mind wanders back to the man. What had he meant? “Who you belong with…and who you don’t.” He acted as if Cory weren’t a human. Maybe it was something they took over, but the coincidences of their life’s events overlapping were too great to ignore.
They remained agitated on the issue for several days, isolating themselves in a brain space dedicated to figuring out what the dreams meant. Almost every time the mystery man had something to say, they found themselves dozing off. The list of clues, connections, and details grew and grew. They doodled him over and over again, each drawing more detailed and practiced than the last. They were determined to figure out something, anything, about this. It was getting bad. Tam stopped them in the halls. “Hey, Cory, seriously, what’s up with you? You’ve been avoiding almost everyone, like you can’t see them. You can talk to me if you need to.” That promptly ended the obsessive search for answers.
Another wave of missions hit the town, and so many were there that almost every exorcist had a job. The tasks ranged from exorcisms to summoning, barrier castings to fortune telling. In short, it was peak season, and business was booming. “I’m going to be rich!” Tam cried, dancing around the room as she clutched her newest assignment. Finny snorted. “Mine’s worth more.” Cory stayed quiet, looking over theirs. “Ward off evil spirit Garnovock at Fairy Coach.” Fairy Coach was a rift town, a town with almost no spiritual users but excessive spiritual activity. These towns were like an underworld central. Most spirits weren’t dangerous, but occasionally some would worm their way out of the cracks and cause mayhem. Cory frowned. This was the same thing as trash duty at school; they were picking up spiritual garbage.
It quickly turned into a competition of who could rack up the most hit jobs. Tam, ever the troublemaker, started arranging ranks and leagues. Bronze, silver, gold. The boards were updated hourly. As always, the top players dominated the scoreboards, leaving the scavengers to pick off menial duty jobs to work their way into the ranks. It certainly made the jobs go quicker, but it also made people ignore the requirements. Backup teams were being sent in more often than not as less experienced fighters grabbed high-ranking jobs for the points. Eventually, the flurry of jobs slowed to a steady trickle, and Tam worked with the crafters to arrange prizes in terms of gear or materials. Cory sighed, smiling. She always meant well, even if she went about things in the wrong way.
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