Summoned A Hundred Years Too Late

Demonic influence on our world is varied in nature.

If one were to ask which of the six is the most direct threat, many would answer Valudipan, he who fathered monsters, the grand general of the fiend army.

Others would say Zabatrid is more dangerous. The origin of disease. The plague itself.

Perhaps some who witnessed a bloodline ritual would claim it to be Augustus.

Few would consider Ummi, though they’d be wrong in many ways. The shadows don’t tell of their crimes.

As for Oc, only lunatics would lend credence to the danger he represents, and they’d be wrong all the same. After all, don’t we all inevitably decay into nothingness?

But, out of the six demons, San is without a doubt the most insidious. Desire. What is desire if not something we all share? From greed to lust, from pride to gluttony, all our lives are spent fighting against temptation.

For that reason, I bring forth a list of businesses to be barred from opening in our dear city. It is time for us councilmen to stop the corruption of public morality, and bring our fellow citizens back into the light.

Let us ban: wineries, gambling dens, brothels, perfumeries, tailors, confectioners, jewelers…

Excerpt from the sermon of Lican the Ascetic at the municipal council of Turi.

Kam made himself small as he took in the sermon from Balrum’s librarian.

“You can’t just sneak into the library restricted area,” an old woman with greying hair explained. “It’s restricted for a good reason, and kids like you…”

Kam thought the woman’s hair looked similar to Alexandra’s. They were the same color. At least, they used to be, before she decided to hide them with that questionable blue dye. He understood why it was necessary, but thought it was a shame. Despite what anyone might say, white hair suited her fine, and losing a bit of lifeforce had nothing to do with demons.

“Are you listening?” the librarian asked.

He looked at his feet, putting on his best impression of a remorseful expression.

The woman stomped her foot. “You gotta be talking, kid.”

He looked up slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t do it again. What sort of books were you looking for?”

“Lifeforce.”

“Yeah, that’s restricted, alright.” The librarian sighed. “Aging relative?”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, but that’s beyond us.” She hesitated. “I guess I can let you read one or two books. Not much you could do with it.”

“Thank you.”

The librarian took Kam to a small room and brought him two books. Surely, it wasn’t their entire collection, but the rest could wait. The books, pamphlets really, were thin. A few pages only.

Kam flipped through them, not expecting to find something he didn’t know. Sure enough, nothing here could compare to the first floor of the Iron Library. Some information listed in the pamphlets was even wrong.

He shook his head, returned the books, and left the library. Today, Alexandra had gone hunting alone. To be honest, Kam wasn’t too interested in fighting, though he wouldn’t mind tagging along in search of a life elemental.

Up the cliff, he knocked on Zeynep’s door. The woman let him in. Her place was a lot better than the shack Alexandra had insisted on renting. He sat on the carpet.

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“Are they enchanted?” he asked Zeynep, who was working at the loom.

“Just a little,” she answered. “Carpets are usually amenable to being enchanted for softness.”

He nodded. His plans for the day already completed, he opened the small satchel he always kept by his side and took out a folded piece of paper.

It was a letter he’d received in his last days in Kator. The true reason why he’d followed Alexandra. Not that he needed a reason to follow a heroine, especially one that considered him a friend. But Kam was no adventurer. He would have liked to stay in the library, to study lifeforce until he could succeed his grandfather as one of the rare lifeforce mages outside of the Hands.

The content of this letter had forced him to flee.

It had been penned by his grandfather, long before his death. From it, Kam had learned that the man had long known of his sons’ betrayal. His uncles had conspired against their father, but never with the intention to kill him. They simply wanted to live, and his grandfather was compassionate to their plight. He wanted them to live too.

The people behind them only wanted his grandfather’s bloodline.

As an old and experienced Ruby, it didn’t take long for his grandfather to find out the source of his troubles. The cult of San was simple. The demon preyed on desires, and there were few things people wanted more than to live.

Yet knowing his enemy helped him very little. When the Velvet Masks wanted something, standing in their way was nearly impossible.

He tried. He failed.

But the Velvet Masks failed too. His grandfather was dead, his bloodline gone with him.

Except Kam had the same bloodline.

He folded the letter and put it back in his satchel. He needed to talk to Alexandra and Willow about it. Soon. Before the Velvet Masks figured out where he was.

Kam hated that he hadn’t done it yet, but the right moment never came.

He tried working it in his head. A demonic cult is chasing me.

Yeah, telling them wouldn’t be easy. Alexandra had enough troubles as it was, and Willow… Kam wasn’t comfortable with Willow as he was with Alexandra.

“Something on your mind?” Zeynep asked, reminding him that she was present.

He looked at her. Another person he couldn’t talk to. Zeynep was nice, but he didn’t think she would stand between him and a literal demon. Hell, she might be tempted by desire if she knew about his bloodline.

“Kam?”

“Just thinking.”

Zeynep didn’t look away from her loom. “Must be a lot for someone your age. Traveling to the basin, crossing the wastes, and now Balrum.”

“Maybe.”

Kam wasn’t sure it had anything to do with age. Anyone would be stressed out in his situation. At least it should take some time for San’s Velvet Masks to realize he was there. The cult of desire was more united than most, but they’d been sent here on a whim by the Veil Sealer. Surely, it would be hard to track him down.

“Where are you from, Kam?” Zeynep asked. “Your name sounds different from Alexandra and Willow’s.”

He looked at her. “My family has south-eastern origins. But I lived most of my life in—” He stopped himself. “Sorry, I can’t tell you.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I knew the three of you were being secretive for a reason. Rather, tell me what you thought of your elemental hunt.”

“Not my thing,” Kam said.

She smiled. “To each their own. What is your thing, Kam?”

Lifeforce.

He couldn’t say it. In fact, now he regretted asking the librarian. Was it even really his thing, or simply his bloodline? Now that his grandfather was already gone, was there a point in continuing his study?

He stood up. “I don’t have a thing yet.”

“Really?” Zeynep kept weaving her newest carpet. “Don’t you have anything you like? Anything you want to be?” She paused. “Anything you desire?”

Kam forced himself to keep his face still. “I should go.”

“Already?” Zeynep didn’t look up from the loom, hands moving thread over thread. “You just arrived.”

“Alexandra will be back soon,” he lied. He reached for his satchel, fingers finding the letter’s edge through the leather as he checked if it was there.

“Of course.” A beat. The shuttle clicked once, twice. “Tell her I said hi. And Kam—” He stopped at the door. “Whatever it is you desire. I hope you find it.”

He didn’t answer. He let himself out.

The stairs down from her place were steep, cut straight into the cliff face. He ran down faster than he should have, one hand trailing the rock wall. At the bottom he made himself stop. Made himself breathe. It was one word. People used it all the time. Zeynep had never once given him reason to—

He was still telling himself that when he saw the velvet.

It stood across the street, at a market stall. Velvet coat. The first he’d seen since Kator. The wearer’s face was turned toward a stall selling dried meat, unremarkable, unhurried. It didn’t mean anything. Velvet was the color of San’s cult, true. But plenty of people liked that color. It was the color of wine, and though he’d never tried it, Kam knew that drink was popular. Then the woman who was wearing it turned toward Kam.

She smiled.

Kam did not run. He made himself walk, unremarkable, back toward the shack.

He needed to tell Alexandra.

Now.