Exousia - The Patron Saints of the Damned -Book II

Chapter 19 –

David listened to his friends explain everything had happened since they’d crashed in the pickup truck. They tried to tell Megan everything, but their descriptions came out too vague and rationalized to really convey the seriousness of what was happening in the woods. Then again, maybe they needed to see their situation the way they retold it; it was a survival mechanism. Simplification was always easier than the overcomplication of the unknown … and the truth. And so long as they got them from one day to the next, what difference did understanding matter? What harm was there in his friends blinding themselves to the obvious fact that they were going to die?

Yes, David believed now more than ever that they were going to die. And while he had always thought that understanding the brutal truth of everything was necessary, that was only in the face of ordinary day-to-day life. Trying to understand the mystery at work was not going to help them in these woods. So, he couldn’t blame his friends for trying to simplify the situation as much as they could.

In fact, David had secretly envied their ability to ignore the complexity around them for a while. He’d tried over the course of his life to stop seeing what he did and looked for his own false hope to hold on to. He’d worked to believe in his logic, in his fellow man, and in abstract concepts like love, honor, and beauty. And though these made him feel like his life had a sense of genuine value, it could never distract him entirely from the darker truths of life and death.

In these woods, his existentialist dread was amplified by the same unknown power that had made Jodie become an animal and Brennan to almost run into the woods. Only their simplification and instincts had the potential to save them … whereas his own threatened to take all his will and energy away. Already, his muscles felt weaker and his body lighter. Was this the same melancholic sense of escape that Sam had felt before he’d vanished into the recesses of his own mind? If so … it was tempting to follow him into that place of numbness.

But David cared about his friends and knew if he went into that state it was because he’d have given up. If anything happened to them while he was like that, their fall would be something he’d blame himself for forever. So, he decided to spend his effort on helping his friends achieve whatever sort of sense and calm that they could. And maybe … if they were right and there was a hope of escape … he could empower them to find it where he could not.

He joined Brennan, who stood at the front of the group. He was staring ahead with bloodshot eyes. He whispered, “I’ve been thinking … and maybe our only choice is to attack her while we can still make it back to the tower. Even if she kills us, maybe some of the others can get away. We’ve got rocks. We can hit her quick and hard.”

“There’s no point,” David replied, softly. “There’s something else out here … we both saw it, and so did Megan.”

“I don’t know what I saw,” Brennan said, shaking his head. It looked like he was trying to convince himself that what he was saying was true. “If we all line up and go for her head-”

“Then we’ll be vulnerable,” David said, interrupting him. “And whatever made you lose it and attack me will have free range to do what it wants with us. I was unsure before … but now, I really don’t think she’s lying. She wants us out of here as much as we want to be out of here.”

Brennan shook his head several times.

David sighed, breathed deeply, and then said, “Alright, let’s just pretend that we’re drugged or just crazy from sleep deprivation, even though neither of us believes that. Right now, we have guidance and a goal, so that we can at least put one foot in front of the other. Without that, we’ll fall apart.”

Brennan’s face wrinkled his cheeks turn pink. Then his bloodshot eyes bulged a bit, he pointed a finger, and said, “You’re just scared. Well, guess what? You don’t have a sister who might get killed over this. You don’t understand.”

The finger pointed in David’s face, and his friend’s patronizing words made a fire burn in his stomach. He’d always had a handle on his anger. But with the woods were drinking away at all the feelings of control he’d ever had, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of rage. It felt merited and deserved … and it numbed him to the more painful things. Like the numbness, it beckoned him into its comforting embrace. Still, he fought it to reply calmly to his friend.

“Do you really think she’s lying? She’s kept her back to us the whole time. It doesn’t matter to her if we run or fall behind. If you wanted, you could go back down the trail right now. She wouldn’t stop you. Look at where her eyes are at. She’s worried about something else. There’s something in these woods, something that made us wreck the truck.”

“It could have all been a trick,” Brennan replied, his eyes revealing another flash of anger. It was evident that there was no point in pushing him. But his willful ignorance and the self-absorbed attitude were beginning to get irritating. He wasn’t the only person with the right to have an opinion, he wasn’t the only one worried about his family, and he wasn’t the one who could barely walk.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” David said. It came out a little louder than what he’d meant. But the damage was done. He watched his words hit hard and then continued, “And don’t look at me like that, I’m not going to treat you like a delicate little baby who can’t handle the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?” Brennan asked, stopping and facing him, His voice was now loud enough that the others could hear him. Then he scowled and shouted, “Don’t hold back for the little baby, tell me what you really think!”

David clenched his fist, grabbed his friend by the collar, and pulled him close enough to whisper. “Some of us, maybe all of us, are going to die. I’m not freaking out, and I’m not going crazy. I know without a doubt that there is no fucking way that we’re all going to make it. She knows it, I know it, and you know it. And since I’m the only one of us too injured to walk, I don’t feel too fucking good about my chances. Now stop making a scene unless you want to push everyone else off the deep end.” He wiped the spittle that had formed at the corners of his mouth, from the way he’d been whispering and then panted as he endured a wave of pain from his leg.

Brennan looked at him with eyes that were wide, tearful, and very tired. He clearly wanted to fight … but there was no energy left in him to do so.

David huffed, put a little more weight on his walking stick, and walked forward to catch up with the group. The Woodcutter, true to form, had continued to walk without them.

-O-

Ted watched his friends fight and eventually separate from one another. Whatever was said had been harsh enough to leave both with hardened faces and watering eyes. He wanted to help … to say something funny that would make them laugh and bring everyone back together. But he knew that this wouldn’t be fixed by his theatrics … just like his own fight with Derrick. He looked over his shoulder to look for his brother.

Megan was the one who met his stare, though. She walked between Jodie and Sam with an arm on each of their shoulders. Yes, she was taking things seriously and doing more than stupid jokes could. Before now, Megan’s nature had always seemed sad and unnecessarily burdened. Her life was responsibility–driving them around before they had licenses, babysitting when they were younger, substituting as their scout leader, taking them on trips, and helping look out for them. But the reality was that it didn’t matter why she did it … it was only impressive that she cared enough to be strong for them.

Ted decided that it was his turn to be an older sibling as well. He moved to the middle of the group and isolated his brother to the right side of the trail where they could talk with some privacy. “Hey bro, you doing alright?”

“Yeah … fine,” Derrick said, obviously uncomfortable with having been cornered in a conversation that he did not want to have. He pulled away, slumped his shoulders, and kept walking.

Ted nodded, trying to be understanding that his brother didn’t want to open up. “Oh good, I thought you might not be enjoying your first kidnapping and rendezvous with a serial killer; what a relief.” He pretended he was wiping sweat from his brow and found there was actually sweat there. He then let out a small chuckle.

But Derrick did not even crack a smile.

So, Ted exhaled and said, “I know I’ve not really had time to make sure you were really alright. And … a big part of that is that you always seem like you’ve got everything so under control. Even through all this, you’ve kept your head and … well … I know this isn’t easy. If you need anything or want to talk, I’m here for you.”

Derrick didn’t respond for a moment, until he said, “Jodie needs you a lot more than I do.”

Ted nodded but then shook his head. “It’s alright if you need me too, though.”

Derrick clenched his jaw and averted his eyes as they flared. “It’s alright? I’ve always been the one watching your back, and taking the brunt of all the crap that everyone wants to give you. It’s not like you’ve needed me to do it or asked … I just did because we’re brothers. Well, not really, but I thought maybe we sort of were. But I’m glad to know that it’s ‘alright’ if I need your sympathy.”

“Derrick-”

Derrick turned to face him with an expression of smug indifference. “You know, I should really just feel sorry for you. I mean it’s not like the person you’re obsessed with will ever care half as much about you.” He then turned his back and walked to the front of the group.

Ted was unable to move or utter a response to what his brother had just told him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and then blinked back tears.

-O-

Exousia clutched her folded pocket-knife in one fist and her walking stick in the other. She led the humans along an old and long-abandoned walking trail. Because of the cursed nature of the woods, the path was almost clear, as if it had been maintained all these years. It smelled slightly like pine-bark as they crushed it under their feet, but not as much as it should have. She suspected the humans wouldn’t have been able to detect it even in a state of lesser distraction than what they were in now.

The humans had remained quiet after the conclusion of those few whispered conversations of the early morning hours. They merely panted as the air warmed and the sun lazily drifted directly overhead. The temperature became surprisingly hot for fall, and this problem was made worse by the fact that they had reached a small clearing where there was no shade. They had to be dehydrated and well beyond exhaustion. However, they needed to move quickly if they were going to reach a safe spot to rest before another attack came. In the middle of the woods, there was a tree under which they could sleep in relative safety. It was the last living thing in the cursed woods. There they would stay and perhaps even find a water source that wasn’t contaminated.

Exousia continued, placing more and more weight on her staff as her legs began to feel rubbery. She had been trained to ignore her need for sleep … and her body was empowered in that aspect by the demon portion of her soul. But because of her fight with the shaman, she had now been awake for more than fifty hours. And it was taking its toll. Of course … another tactical blow from Ammon–initiate the Challenge immediately after a battle. Exousia paused for a moment, her head feeling like it was swimming and her eyes feeling heavy. She gritted her teeth, and then kept moving—ignoring her need for rest. She had to make it to the tree, had to make it. It was close, she remembered that it was …

-O-

A thirteen-year-old Exousia sat cross-legged in a thick patch of grass, alone in the woods that were her home. She was several miles in from the entrance of the trail and the old fire-tower, and another mile from the closest walking path. In that place, she sensed lively energy coming from the birds and small animals. Other humans rarely traveled in this part of the woods. The exceptions were those who had some sense of the spiritual plane and purposefully sought him. Most of these were harmless religious pilgrims like monks of both eastern and western religions and hippy spiritualists. They were all a little different, but each recognized the woods as a potent place for spiritual healing and meditation.

Dufaii and Exousia had made the forest a hospitable home for themselves. They had imported native species that were long forgotten in human records, courtesy of her teacher’s secret gardens and studies of wildlife. These included mostly plants that had been exterminated by invasive non-native life but also included birds, insects, and small animals of the times of the gods and not adapted enough to survive without help. The goal was to create a spiritual sanctuary as a place for meditation. But these woods were more than just that to her. They were not merely scenery but a living and moving entity; they were home.

Visitors also seemed to notice the unnatural or perhaps supernatural qualities of the woods, and not just humans. Sprites, faeries, and other small remnants of the old world began to appear. They found sanctuary in the woods and so began to tend to it like they had the magical forests of old. And though the forest was mostly beyond their abilities to control and manipulate, their efforts made all the trees, mushrooms, animals, and other living things a little more alive. And while the human pilgrims didn’t know the reason for their feelings of peace in the woods, they weren’t wrong in their understanding of its power.

However, there was now something in the woods that was not a benign human or spirit. It was something with a presence of power … and malicious intent.

“You are ready for your time of testing.” Dufaii’s voice carried as if he were close, though he was out of sight. He had decided that it was time that his student learned how to deal with threats alone, beginning with humans who posed a moderate level of physical danger. Of course, the two of them had hunted much more dangerous enemies together—vampires, ghosts, humans, hostile demons, shamans, witches, and much more. But this was the first enemy that she had faced alone since the elder god. And while the test made her nervous in and of itself, it had also brought with it a more sinister question that ate at her mind.

Exousia kept her voice calm and free of the fear that she felt as she asked, “When the Challenge happens … will you be forced to leave?”

“Not if there is a choice in the matter,” Dufaii replied, invisibly from the wood. “But I think Ammon will want you to be alone and impressionable when he faces you. I predict that he’ll do everything in his power to make sure that I am not around, even if he must wait for decades for that to happen. Unfortunately, he has nothing but time until the pieces of his plan fall together.”

Exousia nodded, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

“I will not leave until you are ready,” Dufaii continued. “For now, focus on the challenge at hand. While there will be danger, I will watch and intervene if the need arises. Are you ready?

Exousia nodded and concentrated the demon energy within her into the form of the same small obelisk she’d shown her teacher before. Then it began to lengthen and twist until it looked like some sort of plant with thin black leaves. The leaves then folded into the shapes of blades and other surfaces that themselves folded into the hollow mass of the handle. When it was finished, all that was left was a folded pocket-knife. The knife gently fell into her hand, and she clasped it before standing.

Now armed, Exousia made her form as dim as she could, blurring the edges of her shape so that she might have been a shadow or a ghost. She sank through the woods and made her way towards the aggressive presence that had invaded her home. Usually, she would have been unable to detect a single presence; but their ravenous hunger was … distinct.

After a half-hour, she found them—a dozen humans armed with guns and knives. They wore white robes with trees etched in the design. While Exousia didn’t particularly like using the demon ability to read the surface of a human’s thoughts, she needed every advantage so that these humans wouldn’t surprise her. So, she looked into one of the straggler’s eyes, just as the human looked out into the woods nervously.

Time seemed to stop, and waves of thought and emotion crashed from the human’s mind against her own. Immediately, she knew that there was something wrong with the psychic connection she’d made to this human’s mind. It felt more like she had connected to the simultaneous and highly emotional thoughts of many different humans, rather than just one.

Exousia braced herself and tried to hold on as she used the barriers of meditation to withstand the psychic torrent. It took what felt like many minutes even though the actual time was less than a second. Finally, the wind and waves settled. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she willed herself to look inside at the human’s surface desires … starting with his motivation.

The human’s interest was not in the woods but with the child who lived in them. It wanted to find her, to cut out her heart, to eat it, and then to dry the rest of her body and use it for his coven’s magic. The human believed that if it did this, its coven would become even more powerful than others.

Exousia searched through the human’s feelings of fear and aggression until she found the part of his mind focused on his weapons. This human had a knife hidden underneath his white robes. But there was something else, and that something was what was making its thoughts so challenging to read.

Exousia had to adjust her eyes and pull her perception away from both the humans and even the physical plane to finally see what that other presence was.

Chained to the cultists, with threads as invisible to the human eye as the creatures themselves, were the shades of dead humans. They looked like ghostly white corpses with thin ribbons attached to their chests. These tethers seemed to glow and pump like umbilical cords that fed the spirits’ power into the hearts of their human masters. Some were the spirits of adults, but most were children. About a half-dozen of these spirits were tethered to each human like balloons. All had swollen red eyes that they used to stare into the ground. It was almost as if they were ashamed. At what?

Quite possibly at having been tricked into binding their souls to the humans in white robes. Short of inhuman magic, trickery was the only way any of this was possible. Likely, these enslaved souls had once been like the naive pilgrims who walked innocently through the woods, until their souls were tainted with promises of reward or threats of violence. This theory was supported by the wounds on many of the ghosts, which seemed to indicate torture and gruesome deaths.

One of the ghosts, a young boy with the flesh on his belly torn in the shape of a pentagram, moved before the rest. It slowly lifted its hand and pointed at Exousia, leading the surrounding ghosts to do the same.

A momentary spike of fear went through Exousia’s body as the living humans suddenly became aware of her presence. She ducked into the woods and began to sprint as heavy boots stomped through the woods behind her. It took a moment for her mind to catch up with the rest of her, to realize that outrunning them would be pointless. They had to be detained so that Dufaii could find a way to free the enslaved souls.

Exousia decided to turn her retreat into a trap. All she would need to do so was to find somewhere she could wait in ambush. She thought of a nearby magnolia tree that she’d frequently climbed before. It had thick enough foliage to hide her. So, she sprinted towards it, squeezing her folded black knife in her hand.

-O-

Megan fought her feelings of rage towards the girl that had tricked her … the person that her brother and his friends believed to be the Woodcutter. She hadn’t looked at Megan since they’d begun walking, leaving her disarmed. She hadn’t gloated, threatened Megan’s well-being if she didn’t follow, or really done anything but ignore her. And that, along with the unspoken threat of those wolves, made Megan even angrier than if the girl had acted like a generic movie villain.

But that was not the only emotion playing on Megan’s mind. She was also afraid … even more so now that she saw that there was something terribly wrong with her brother and his friends. It went beyond just the events that they’d told her about. It was that they weren’t acting like themselves; each of them was meaner, angrier, or seeming to be teetering on the edge of insanity. It was like there was something foreign within each of their minds, something that she also had begun to feel. It felt like electricity making its way down her spine. It generated a feeling of dread that would not dull, like a panic attack that wouldn’t subside, no matter how tired she felt.

Brennan’s reaction so far had been to avoid her. He would not look at her, he would not talk to her, he would not let himself be caught in the same breathing space as her. But she hadn’t missed what had happened between him and David … or between Derrick and Ted. Megan wanted to talk her brother down … but that seemed impossible while passions were this high.

David, on the other hand, did not seem to be avoiding anyone. His eyes were half shut, and he limped along in a way that made it look like he didn’t have much left in him. It was visible in the teary expressions he made when he glanced at the woods. Maybe she could talk to him and find out what had been said. She sped up her pace to catch up to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and asked: “Do you need help?” She motioned at his mangled leg.

David shook his head and lowered his gaze. He looked as if he’d just been awakened from sleep.

“Okay,” Megan replied, biting her lip and trying to think of a way to get him to open up. She walked with him for a minute or two before she asked, “So … was my brother being an asshole?”

“No.” David sighed heavily as if he knew this conversation was inevitable and wanted to avoid it. “It’s not him; it’s this place. There’s something wrong with it. It’s like … have you ever gotten the feeling like you were part of something big, something way bigger than you? Something so big that no matter what you did, it couldn’t possibly matter.”

“The … Woodcutter,” Megan said, mouthing the last word without saying it aloud. She wondered what the girl with the scar had said to them to make them all like this. “You can’t let anything she’s said make you think that-”

“It’s not her,” David said and pointed ahead at their guide as if she couldn’t possibly overhear him. “Look, she’s not even listening to us. She’s watching the woods … probably for whatever is out there making us all crazy.”

“You think something wants to kill her, too?” Megan asked, keeping her voice as low as possible.

“Maybe …” David replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. “But if the Woodcutter is in danger, what chance do the rest of us have?”

Megan stared at him, unable to think of anything to say. Part of her wondered if his ideas came from the same crazy voice that was affecting the others. But another part found his words surprisingly easy to follow along with. There really did seem to be something wrong with these woods. There shouldn’t have been wolves … and now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure that what she had seen were wolves. Sure, they’d been big, doglike creatures. But the coloration, the proportions, the behavior–it was all wrong. Maybe that was why she’d found the rabies excuse so believable at the time.”

“But I know why you want to talk it out with me … and you’re right,” David said, squeezing his right hand into a fist. “Even if we don’t make it, I’m not going to let some trees or shadow monster make it so I die alone.”

“Brennan can be a pain sometimes,” Megan replied, putting her hand and trying to show that she understood.

“Oh, Brennan can be a complete asshole. But-”

“If you say, ‘he’s my asshole’ I might just cry,” Brennan said, having approached while neither of them had been watching. There were hints of mischief in his heavy eyes–over the bags and dark circles around them. However, the bloodshot redness was gone. And though he smiled, he looked sincere and apologetic. “I’m sorry, man; you were right. I’ve been acting like a baby. An asshole baby.”

“Well … yes, you have,” David said with a smirk of his own. He suddenly winced as he took another step on his injured foot. “So, is it too soon to ask if you can give me a hand? I mean, you could also just let me fall over and leave me. I’m not big on that idea, but it would be a pretty good last laugh.”

“Nah man, that’s too easy. My revenge will be swift and terrible, and will only come once we get the hell out of here,” Brennan replied, helping to support his friend’s weight. Then he turned to look at his sister, the effort clear in the way his eyes could not immediately meet hers. He bit his lower lip and said. “Meg … I um, I didn’t know that Sam had-”

“It’s alright,” Megan said. While she did really want to find out what all had happened, she knew that letting him get his friends back together was more important at that moment. “It can wait.”

Brennan nodded and returned his attention to palling around and joking with his best friend. And though that didn’t completely fix anything, the sound of their cutting up and insulting one another like old times was enough to diminish the feeling of electric fear, at least a little. And she could tell by the way the boys gradually lessened the empty space between all of them, that she wasn’t alone in feeling it.

-O-

Exousia shook her head and forced her eyes wide open, realizing that the scene she’d been remembering had nearly become a dream. She was exhausted, and thinking about anything but the current situation was causing her thoughts to drift and become hazy. It was like only the adrenaline from her stress was enough to really keep her awake. She tightened her grip on the walking stick and the knife until both palms of her hands hurt enough to wake her up a bit.

One factor that was making her tired was the same thing that was affecting the teenagers. The same life that had once filled the woods and made it a center of meditation and healing. That life force had been killed when the woods had become cursed. As a result, the woods felt like a wound in something that had once been very much alive. It still contained the same power over living things that it had before, but now that influence was one that shared the lethargic and lifeless pain that the forest felt.

“Your time is running short, Exousia.” whispered a voice, from somewhere in the woods. There was a distant presence, meaning that something had been subtly reaching her thoughts from afar. “We’ve waited so long to kill you … it seems like our time has come.” The voice was not one she recognized, and it didn’t sound quite like a demon. There was only one other thing which she knew to wield psychic abilities. On occasion, the fragments of human souls or that of Tezcatlipoca himself managed to wrestle control of Ammon’s consciousness and use his powers. But they’d always been scattered and chaotic–never able to communicate with one voice.

“Wake up, Ammon,” Exousia said, keeping her voice low. “You kill me, and we’re both dead. The war will come without you to lead it, and the loyalists will win. Take hold of your sanity before they ruin everything you’ve worked for.”

“We almost killed you last time, Exousia, just like you killed so many of us. The demon won’t wake up to save you this time.” On top of being scattered and chaotic, the spirits had always been filled with a fear that made them easy to manipulate. Now its single will was bold and confident.

Exousia decided to keep it talking, biding her time for as long as possible. He looked around, careful to keep her face hidden from the humans, and said, “Don’t fool yourselves; you cannot match me. And Ammon’s soldiers won’t throw everything away like you are so willing to.”

“They will if they hear Ammon’s voice.” At these words, the Madness’s voice sounded just like the demon it possessed. “Especially if we remind them that this is all just a game to keep them chasing their tails, human.”

“I’m not a human any more than you are,” Exousia growled, allowing herself to stew in her anger. Perhaps the emotion was more genuine than what she wanted to let on, but letting them think that they were affecting her emotionally would keep them talking, buying her more time.

The voice thundered with the laughter of hundreds of spirits. “Not human? We will see about that. For now, we’re tired of your stalling. Let’s clear the ground, why don’t we. Make it just you and us with no humans to get in our way.”

For a moment, Exousia considered letting the Madness kill these humans. It seemed like an easy way to win … and worthwhile for the eternal souls of all those being tormented below. But something felt wrong. It shouldn’t have been this easy. Would leaving them to their deaths count as killing them? It didn’t matter, they might just as easily be captured and taken deeper into the woods. No, such a swift victory could only be a trap. She turned to face the humans and shouted, “Run!”

The humans jumped and seemed like they didn’t know whether they should be scared, resistant, or if they should give up altogether. But they began to hobble a little bit faster. They soon reached a field with several acres of dead grass and a large tree at the far end–their destination, the safe point, the heart of the woods.

However, in every direction, there were circular holes in the ground. Each of these holes looked deeper and wider than Exousia was tall, and they were close enough together so that the humans would undoubtedly fall in. This was an ambush, and it would have taken months to create even for several demons.

“Wait!” Exousia shouted and to stop the teenagers. She tried to figure out a way to get all of them across, but there simply wasn’t a way without running a half mile around in either direction. Se shook her head and said, “You have to get to the big tree over there. It’s safe. But you can’t get separated—you can’t scatter. Something is coming, and it will kill you if it can.”

For a second, they all just looked at her with confused and disbelieving expressions. But then, the growling started … along with otherworldly cackling.

“It’s the shadow!” Billy screamed, his eyes as big as they could get as he looked behind them at the source of the sounds. He started backing up frantically towards the holes. “I told you they were real; I told you!”

A demon in the shape of a small black wolf broke free from the woods behind them. Upon seeing it, the humans screamed and sprinted as fast as they could towards the tree. It wasn’t long before they fell, one by one, into holes. There were no pained screams, so the holes weren’t intended to kill. That meant that they were shallow enough that the teenagers could climb out, so long as they had the time to do it.

Ten more demons in the shapes of various wolves appeared from the woods behind them, lined the perimeter, and then began to move forward at a pace that was just short of a run. One of them pushed itself forward until it was sprinting in front of the others, and then leaped in the air, with its open mouth aimed at Exousia’s throat.

Exousia crouched and then thrusted the thick end of her staff into its chest. This caused a loud cracking in the wolf’s chest bones. Then there was pained howling and writhing, as she pulled out the stick and caused black blood to pour from the wound. She looked at the other demons and shouted, “This isn’t Ammon!”

But only rage filled their eyes, and they continued their approach.

“Fine.” Exousia extended both of her arms with weapons in hand so that her fists were aimed at them. She glared at them and began to whisper demon words to access human magic.

The words twisted her mind … and brought her consciousness to another time. When monarchical orders were defended and destroyed based on the wills of the true rulers of the time—magicians. In that time, these powerful magic-wielders had nothing but contempt for the pathetic humans around them. They saw the human peasants as nothing but spreaders of pestilence and ignorance. At best, they were dirty slaves. As for the royalty, priests, and nobles, they were merely gluttons. All were filth, and all needed to be cleansed.

The demons became diseased peasants in her eyes, rallying with crude farming tools. They were there to burn her for her heresy. But the sorcerer was not threatened. To the contrary, she began to smile–she knew that there was only one way to cleanse their disease, and she found the prospect of it delightful. Orbs of orange light began to float in front of her fists and became tiny tongues of flame.