Chapter 2: snake. Snake. SNAKE. 

Dinner was once again dried strips of meat and water. Aria was just thankful it wasn’t cooked goblin. She frowned at the thought, but rationalized that soon the Party would very likely have to resort to eating whatever they could, even if it meant demons. She paused, sniffed her cloak, and gagged. Goblin was a very clingy scent. She sighed and went back to her musing. Ignoring the taste and smell… would it make us sick? Technically, demons were tainted by miasma. Eating them would infect the Party with miasma, therefore driving them crazy. But we have a Cleric… She paused, brown eyes glancing over to the young man sprawling beside the magical flame at the center of their camp. He was deep asleep, recovering from almost hacking up his lungs earlier. No… we really don’t. She couldn’t count on him to purify her if a simple humming incapacitated him. Miasma induced insanity would certainly require full on singing and that would be the end of him.

Aria sighed, recalling the Cleric’s baritone that she had heard over the years. He hadn’t started coughing till after her escape from the temple. She was sure of that much as she had been able to clearly hear him while sneaking over the temple’s outer wall. And there was no way the High Priest would have sent his heir out on a suicide mission. But… Something was clearly wrong. Aria though, didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out what exactly. The longer she stayed with the Party the farther away from the border they got. The farther away she got, the more chances she had of dying on her way back. Traveling alone was assuredly far more dangerous than as a group no matter how useless certain members were. 

She swallowed her last mouthful of meat and peered around. The Party had camped farther up the dried out river bed, continuing to follow it through the Peninsula. Locating the closest boulder she got up and began moving toward it. Instantly all eyes were on her.

“Where?” Demanded the Mage who was on watch. How he could see anything through the foam covering his face was beyond her, but the Party had gotten used to him washing his face in a conjured bubble of water every morning and night. 

“Pee.”

The Hero and Warrior instantly went back to sharpening their weapons, having finished eating their rations long before her. A snore escaped from the Cleric. 

Aria ventured into the shadows, pulling her cloak closer around her as she moved away from the fire. Reaching the boulder she hid behind it and completed her business. Pulling up her pants and stepping back toward the warmth she froze. Her eyes trailed up to the top of the boulder. There something shimmered, a golden sheen that had no business on top of a dusty stone. Slowly it moved closer, coils unraveling till a small pointed head lowered itself to be level with her own. A tiny black tongue flicked out with a hiss. 

Snake. SNAKE. Venomous? Aria wasn’t willing to find out. 

Mentally she shoved the heart pounding in her throat back into her chest and took a deep breath. In. Out. In. Flute. Her hand shook slightly as she pulled the metal instrument from her belt. Slowly she raised it to her lips, eyes never leaving the snake’s. It hissed. She blew. A sharp note cut through the air. A glow began surrounding the snake, faint at first but brighter as Aria continued to blow. 

The snake tilted its head left, then right. It hissed again. 

Aria cursed and stopped playing. It wasn’t demonic. Divine power did nothing. But how is it surviving here if it’s not demonic? she thought and started slowly backing away. Right into leather armor. Hands gripped her upper arms, holding her in place. She glanced up, finding the Warrior peering over her. To his left hovered a white disembodied face. 

That was it. Aria sucked in as much air as she could and prepared to scream. It definitely wouldn’t do much good in the long run, but currently, it would make her feel better. But it wasn’t meant to be. A calloused hand gently covered her mouth and she felt rather than saw the Warrior shake his head behind her. She slowly let the air out through her nose, eyes narrowed at the floating face. It was white except for dark holes where the eyes and nose were supposed to be. The hole by the nose shifted slightly as the face moved closer. It was the Mage. 

Aria sagged into the Warrior, dropping most of her weight onto him. She was too tired to deal with all of this. Maybe fainting like the heroines in those tragic stories she had grown up hearing could be an option. Faint hissing made her refocus. The snake was slithering down the boulder toward the Mage who had both arms stretched out toward it. Does he want to die? 

Slowly the golden scales coiled around his right arm. The Mage extended a finger and the snake began rubbing its head against it. Aria sighed. Maybe… maybe I just should have stayed at the temple. She had squashed any such notion before, but now, after goblins, snakes, and floating faces she was tired. She was after all, just a runaway acolyte. 

***

The snake was joining the Party. Apparently, it wasn’t just a snake. And it wasn’t venomous no matter what Aria thought of its black tongue or fangs. It was a Spirit. And Spirits were sacred. Secretly she told herself that it was a good thing she had tried using divine power on it rather than just trying to clobber the thing with her flute. 

The Hero found the whole thing hilarious. He hadn’t stopped grinning since the Warrior had let slip that the Mage’s face mask had scared Aria more than the snake had. It had been her first time seeing him wear it. The Hero had explained in between snorts of laughter that it was a weekly step in the Mage’s skin care regiment. She was used to him cleansing his heavily inked skin every morning and night, and even enjoyed the scent of the lotions he dutifully applied afterwards. This new addition to his regiment unnerved her though. But a Mage’s skin was his life, the Spirit contracts inked across his body the key to his power. If he wanted to walk around like a disembodied head, so be it, as long as he continued acting as the Party’s sole water source. Her survival was more important than her fraying nerves. 

Speaking of her survival, she was surprised that none of the Party had asked about the flute. Not that it had been much use in this particular instance. If the snake had been a demonic creature though, Aria would have purified it. While she called the Cleric useless quite frequently, Aria herself could wield divine power. It was the only reason she could even consider ditching the Hero’s Party and hightailing it back to the demonic border. It was also why she had lived as an acolyte for the last ten years. And why she had run away. 

Sighing, Aria rolled over, pulling the hood of her cloak further over her eyes. Sleep. Thinking about the temple won’t help you get out of here. And unlike the rest of the Party, Aria would be allowed to sleep the night through. No one trusted her with standing watch after all. They knew she would be long gone before anyone woke up in the morning if given the chance. 

Aria though, didn’t get to sleep much.

Hands hoisted her into the air before her stomach collided with something hard. Winded, she shoved the hood out of her eyes only to find leather. Bouncing leather. Or rather, she was the one bouncing. Trying not to retch as her stomach came into contact with the Warrior’s shoulder once more, Aria slammed her palms into his back. He didn't even flinch. Stabilized slightly, she craned her neck toward the campsite they were quickly abandoning. 

For a moment Aria didn’t understand why they were all running until something shifted in the sand. One side of the dried river bank was crumbling, revealing light brown scales the size of a man. Snake. BIG SNAKE, said Aria’s thoughts as she desperately tried not to puke all over the Warrior. She patted his back, trying to signal that he could put her down and she could run on her own. It was futile. He kept on running and she kept on bouncing. Aria opened her mouth only to slam it shut as a wave of nausea overcame her. Instead, she focused on the Hero who was half dragging, half carrying the Cleric a few strides away. Until he tripped. The two went down in a clanging flurry of blue robes and plate armor.