Take Me Away, Dark Lord!

”It’s gone,” Seraphina whispered, her eyes wide with wonder. ”The fog is gone. It’s quiet now.”

Kaelus looked at the empty air, then looked at the sunlight hitting her face.

He didn’t understand the mechanics of her vision, but he understood the result.

She looked peaceful.

”Good,” Kaelus said simply, standing up and lifting her effortlessly into the crook of his arm. ”Because it is about time we departed. The stench of this place offends me.”

If the interrogation had been a masterclass in terror, the preparations for departure were a masterclass in absurdity.

Kaelus von Nacht, a man who normally traveled with nothing but a sword, a change of clothes, and a map, had suddenly realized that transporting a small, fragile, easily-bruised biological asset required a terrifying amount of logistics.

He stood in the courtyard, his arms crossed over his chest, acting as the supreme commander of the packing process.

”Sir Gallahan,” Kaelus barked, inspecting a large, wooden crate being loaded onto the supply wagon. ”What is in that box?”

”Apples, Your Grace!” Gallahan replied proudly, wiping sweat from his brow. ”And dried apricots! And a small barrel of candied pecans I liberated from the Count’s private pantry!”

”Inadequate,” Kaelus frowned. ”Apples are too hard. What if she chips a tooth? Find softer fruits. Peaches. Plums. And where are the strawberries she requested?”

”We have three baskets of strawberries secured in a stasis-cooling spell, Sir!” Gallahan saluted. ”They will remain perfectly chilled for the entire journey to the Capital!”

”Acceptable,” Kaelus nodded.

He turned his attention to another knight who was carrying an armful of exquisite silk blankets.

”Halt,” Kaelus ordered.

He reached out and rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

He narrowed his eyes, analyzing the thread count with the intensity of a man inspecting enemy armor.

”This silk is too slick. She will slide off the carriage seat when we hit a bump,” Kaelus deduced. ”And this wool is too coarse. It will irritate her skin. Did the Count have nothing softer? Throw these back. Go to the town and buy every bolt of velvet and cashmere you can find. Take the gold from the Count’s personal stash.”

”Yes, Your Grace! We shall raid the weavers immediately!”

Seraphina stood a few feet away, holding the hand of a very confused and terrified maid.

She watched the elite knights of the Black Bastion, men who had slaughtered demons and held fortresses, running around like panicked retail workers trying to secure the perfect assortment of toddler snacks and premium bedding.

’He is overcompensating,’ Seraphina thought, amused. ’He’s treating me like a glass fabergé egg that might spontaneously explode if I don’t have enough pillows.’

”Papa Duke?” she called out, waddling over to him.

Kaelus immediately stopped interrogating a knight about the structural integrity of a wooden toy horse and looked down. ”Yes? Are you cold? Sir Lucas! Bring the heavy mantle!”

”I’m not cold,” Seraphina said, waving her hands. ”I just... I don’t want to ride in the box today.”

Kaelus paused. ”The carriage is reinforced with mythril. It is the safest place for you.”

”But it’s boring,” Seraphina complained, pouting her lips.

She pointed a tiny finger toward the stables, where the knights were leading out the warhorses. ”You promised I could ride the big black horsey.”

Kaelus followed her gaze.

Being led out of the stables by two knights pulling on heavy chain-link reins was Kaelus’s personal mount.

The horse was a monster.

It stood nearly twenty hands high, its coat as black as the abyss, its eyes glowing with a faint, demonic red light.

It was a Nightmare, a breed of warhorse from the deepest demonic fronts of the North, capable of trampling armored men into paste and running for three days without water.

It snorted, and a small puff of actual dark smoke plumed from its nostrils.

The horse’s name was Ruin.

”Seraphina,” Kaelus said slowly, trying to inject some reason into the situation. ”That is a demon-blooded warbeast. He bites the heads off regular horses. He is not a pony.”

”But he’s so fluffy!” Seraphina insisted, completely ignoring the red, glowing eyes and the sheer mass of muscle.

To her Spirit Sight, the horse didn’t have any dead people attached to it.

It just had a very big, very grumpy aura.

She liked grumpy auras.

Grumpy meant no one bothered you.

She let go of the maid’s hand and waddled directly toward the massive beast.

”My Lady, wait!” Sir Lucas panicked, lunging forward. ”He hasn’t been fed yet today! He might take off your arm!”

But before Lucas could grab her, Seraphina had already reached the horse.

Ruin lowered his massive head, his nostrils flaring, huffing a breath of hot air that fluttered Seraphina’s hair.

The beast bared teeth that looked suspiciously like fangs, preparing to intimidate the tiny creature out of his space.

Seraphina didn’t flinch.

She simply reached up and firmly patted the beast right on his velvety black nose.

”Hi, horsey,” she said cheerfully. ”You’re very big. Do you like strawberries?”

Ruin froze.

The demonic warbeast blinked his glowing red eyes.

He sniffed her hand.

He smelled the lingering, overwhelming scent of his master’s magic on her clothes, mixed with the faint, sweet smell of maple syrup from breakfast.

Slowly, the massive, terrifying monster let out a soft, rumbling whinny and affectionately nudged his massive head against her tiny shoulder, nearly knocking her over with the force of his ’gentle’ affection.

The knights in the courtyard dropped their jaws in disbelief.

”I don’t believe it,” Gallahan whispered, crossing himself. ”The beast hates everyone except the Duke. He bit my shield in half last week.”

Kaelus watched the interaction, a sense of resignation settling over him.

He was losing control of his vanguard, his schedule, and his horse to a six-year-old in a blue dress.

Even if it didn’t make any sense, he didn’t dislike it either.

”Very well,” Kaelus sighed, walking over.

He effortlessly scooped Seraphina off the ground with one arm.