The demon spy

Midnight's bells tolled as fog clung to the streets, muffling footsteps. The moon hid behind clouds, turning away from the depravity below. Shadows moved like whispers in the gloom, unseen deals struck by men who profited from human misery.

Orilana crouched on the rooftop, feeling like a ghost in a city without a place for her. Her pulse was steady, and her muscles tensed like coiled springs. The thrill of the hunt burned within her, but she kept it tempered and focused. Her target emerged from the haze—a figure shrouded in black robes, his movements deliberate, controlled. He wore his arrogance like armour, passing the guard checkpoint without a glance as if the world bent to his will. She’d finally found him—the slaver lord.

The festering rot of this city had a face now. Adjusting her scarf to hide her telltale crimson-red skin, she exhaled slowly, her gaze narrowed as she inhaled the biting night air, steadying herself. Weeks of tracking him through the city's underbelly had led to this moment. She’d watched in silence as he orchestrated the suffering of the helpless, unseen but always present. Tonight, that would end.

A sudden outburst pierced the stillness.

“What in the Abyss are you lot doing?!” A voice like a grinding stone sliced through the fog, sharp with impatience. Orilana’s eyes flicked to the guards at their post, scrambling to attention like frightened children caught slacking.

“Sorry, boss!” one of them stammered, fumbling with his armour. “It’s just so quiet out here”

The sickening clang of metal silenced him as the slaver boss drove a gauntleted fist into the guard’s helmet, sending him reeling.

“Care to repeat that?” the slaver hissed, his voice dripping with venom.

Anger flared in Orilana’s chest, her fists tightening. This man—this monster—treated life like it was worth less than the coins he traded for it. Not even his own guards were spared his cruelty.

The slaver’s gaze swept the streets, his shoulders tensing as though sensing danger. “I don’t like it. We need to move the products tonight before that damned Elven whore catches wind of this.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Orilana’s lips. One step closer. She watched as he disappeared into the large warehouse, muttering an incantation under his breath. He was reinforcing himself with magic, preparing for what he thought was just another routine night of trafficking in stolen lives.

Orilana leapt from the rooftop, fluid and silent. Every instinct told her this night would be different. Tonight, the chains would break.

Freedom, for once, was within reach for those who had lost hope.

With a fluid leap, she landed on the warehouse roof. But as she touched down, a tile came loose and began to fall. In a flash, she snatched it from the air, barely managing to steady herself at the edge of the roof.

Breathing heavily, she regained her balance and scanned the surface, spotting a small skylight. Silently, she approached and slipped inside the warehouse. It was nearly pitch black, illuminated only by the flickering torchlight that danced below.

Inside, the boss strode in front of several cages, inspecting each one with a predatory gaze. He leaned down before one, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Good, they’re in fine condition… should earn a small fortune. Oh, now there’s a face I recognize! It's been a while since we had a noble here.”

He leaned closer, a sinister grin spreading across his face. “Don’t give me that look, darling—you’re my prize cow! She remains untouched, yes? I promised my buyer she was a virgin. I won’t get nearly as much if she’s been tainted.” He laughed, the sound chilling in the dim light.

“Don’t worry, boss. We took extra care with her. No signs of wear,” a rough voice echoed from the shadows, laced with uneasy pride.

The boss grunted, his face barely illuminated by the flickering torchlight.“Good. Pack them all up and get ready to move. I’ve still got other sites to check… Ever since that little bitch Princess Aurelia made that mandate. That Elvan spymaster of the Dragonslayers been making my job ten times harder, if I could only get her alone I’d show that whore her place!” Orilana’s hand moved towards her knives, how dare he speak of her elder sister and the princess that way! 

His voice grew sharp with frustration, his venomous words punctuated by the crack of his fist slamming into a nearby cage. “Why does the king let a child dictate his policies? Could he dote on her less obnoxiously?” He spat on the ground.

There was a pause, the air thick with tension, before the voice from the shadows returned, quieter, almost trembling. “Boss, One more thing, Benny and Milo didn't show, our guy in the tower said Dragonslayer guys got them"

"Shit…That Dragon cunt, is one problem I don't need, if he's in town you bet your arse his Elvan whore is here pulling strings. We are moving out at dawn! Get everything on the ship, the empire will pay top coin, this Kingdom can rot, for all I care.” The henchman nodded, saluting before rushing off into the darkness, oblivious to the eyes watching from the shadows.

Orilana smiled as the slaver followed his men, arrogance sealing his fate. She followed him from a distance, her movements silent, blending with the fog that clung to the alleys like a malevolent force.

The slaver lord made his rounds across the city, visiting three more warehouses hidden in dark alleys. At each stop, his men hurried to load their grim cargo—faces twisted with fear, words spoken in hushed whispers. Orilana could sense the growing unease, see the tension creeping into his steps. His patience was wearing thin.

Finally, he arrived at a rundown tavern on the city's outskirts. The place was barely standing—cracked windows, a roof sagging under the weight of neglect. It looked more like a ruin than a refuge. He paused outside for a moment as if measuring the distance between what was and what might soon collapse. Then, without hesitation, he pushed open the creaking door and disappeared inside.

Her pulse quickened as she activated the telepathy stone embedded in her earring. “Eilara, I found their hideout and the slave warehouses,” she said.

An amused voice purred in her ear, “I’m aware. Good work, little sis. Veric will be here soon as well for the grand finale.”

Orilana nearly jumped out of her skin as Eilara materialized beside her as if she had emerged from the very shadows. “Eilara… What are you doing here?”

Pride washed over Orilana, quickly followed by a wave of unease. How had she not sensed Eilara's presence? If her sister had wanted to, she could have ended her before she knew what was happening.

“Must you keep calling me ‘little sis’? It’s embarrassing…” she pouted, a slight blush creeping across her cheeks.

Eilara smirked, brushing her beautiful long blonde hair away from her elven ears. She threw an arm around Orilana’s shoulders. “Come now it can’t be more embarrassing than when you tried wood surfing and ended up stuck in that tree! I remember Alexia had to come up with a brand new magic speel just to get the wood shards out of…” 

Orilana could feel the tips of her ears burning, hurriedly she cut Eilara off before she could finish “I remember! And yes, little sis is worst because..." 

"And the time, you wanted to kiss the young Belric boy...and.."

"I seem to remember you setting me up…But I remember all of those and more! Why do you make the little sis thing worse!”

Eilara made a mock show of looking insulted placing her hands over her chest “I set you up? Such vile slander! Oh, your accusation wound me so little sister.” Before she stuck out her tongue playfully. Eilaras attitude made Orilanas frustration rise in a way only EIlara could achieve. 

“Stop being such a grumpy puss! Who else will make you treat life, with a bit of joy and laughter? We may not be blood-related, but we’re family. You, me, Veric, Alexia, and of course little Jazzie. How many times must I remind you? Veric is the daddy, Alexia’s the mummy, I’m the big sis, and you’re the baby sister! And little Jaz is our adorable niece! Come now, Orilana or do you see yourself as the older child?”

Orilana felt her cheeks heat at Eilara’s words. The three of them found her wounded in the forest many years ago and treated her like family ever since. They were the parents she had never known, despite being only being only a few years older than her.

“Why are you always like this? This is serious…We are about to crush the slave trade in the kingdom, can you not behave as a spymaster you're meant to be and behave with dignity and professionalism?!”  

Eilara yarned mockingly “But that's so boring…! Lifes got to have some fun and spice! Can’t be all stiff and humourless” She smirked and her tone dropped showing her more serious side her voice ice cold “Come now everything's done all pieces are in place now all that's left is the checkmate.” 

Before changing to her normal tone “Don’t worry, little sis! We’ll make this kingdom safe for our little niece, even if it means spilling the blood of those who prey on the innocent! Tonight, we put an end to the slave trade in the Decia Kingdom for good!” Eilara proclaimed, her voice ringing with fierce determination, still holding Orilana tightly.

A deafening boom shattered the quiet, sending echoes through the predawn air. Orilana’s heart raced as terrified screams pierced the stillness, drawing her into the chaos below “Looks like Veric is getting started. Go down and join him before you miss all the fun!” Eilara gave Orilana a gentle push in the back before disappearing once more as if she were made of shadows.

“You’ve got to show me that trick,” Orilana grumbled to herself, steeling her resolve before leaping down to join the chaos below.

What greeted her was less a fight and more a massacre. Veric had blown apart the door, and the bodies of guards littered the ground, lifeless and strewn in disarray.

The clash of steel rang through the air, drawing Orilana's attention as she pressed forward, her heart pounding. Amidst the carnage, Veric stood locked in combat with a towering Minotaur. The beast, clad only in a loincloth, wielded a massive double-edged axe, cleaving the air with each swing. Despite its immense size, Veric—encased in gleaming full plate armour and wielding his sword, Dawnbreaker—met each blow with calculated precision. His strength, fueled by years of battle, matched the Minotaur's raw power as he steadily pushed it back.

With a swift sidestep, Veric dodged the Minotaur’s charging strike, the creature stumbling forward in its attempt to regain balance. Before it could recover, Veric’s sword flashed in a clean arc, slicing deep into the Minotaur’s back. The beast roared in agony, its howl reverberating across the battlefield as blood sprayed into the night air.

Orilana marvelled at Veric's strength, his every swing precise, born for battle.

“Ori! Get your head out of the clouds and take that bastard down!” Veric’s voice cut through her thoughts, his eyes never leaving the towering Minotaur, its massive figure casting a shadow over them both as it let out a bellowing roar. He jerked his head toward the slaver boss before the Minotaur’s axe came down with the force of an avalanche, aiming to crush Veric beneath its weight. But Veric was ready. He blocked the mighty swing high with his sword, deflecting the blow with a sharp clang. The Minotaur’s weapon slid down Veric’s guard, exposing its flank in the process.

Ori could feel the tension in the air as the battle paused for just a second, Veric taking full advantage. He twisted his body, his sword a blur of motion as he counterattacked. The blade found its mark, cutting through muscle and hide. The Minotaur let out a pained roar, staggering backwards from the blow.

For a moment, Orilana almost pitied the beast. Mighty as it was, it was no match for Veric.

The battle raged on, the sounds of steel meeting steel echoing across the fields, but something darker awaited them ahead and would not end without the boss being caught. “Got it!” she called back, shaking herself out of her daze. Mentally scolding herself for spacing out, she felt a surge of adrenaline kick in. Her focus snapped to the slaver boss, and without wasting another second, she charged after him. Determination flooded her veins, her every step fueled by a singular goal—end this nightmare for good.

As Orilana reached the upper levels, she spotted the slaver boss with one leg stuck in a secret passage. Without hesitation, She hurled a knife into his leg, stopping his escape.

He screamed, collapsing. “Surrender, or it gets worse,” she ordered her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The boss turned his head to glare at her. “What a demon! What’s a demon doing here, helping humans?” he roared.

“Half-demon,” she corrected him. “And I do what I want. Now, choose the easy way or the fun way.” A smirk danced on her lips, echoing one of Eilara’s favourite phrases. “Choose quickly, because if Veric gets here, he’ll kill you. He has no tolerance for slavers.”

As Orilana approaches him the slaver boss’s arrogance cracked, desperation bleeding into his eyes. 'You think this will change anything? Kill me, and another will take my place. You’ll never rid this city of people like me.' His voice quivered as he spat the words, but his defiance faltered under her steely gaze. “I never did anything to warrant the attention of the Dragonslayer or your people!” the boss snarled, clutching his wounded leg.

The cold metal of her knives pressed against her palms, grounding her as the sound of his ragged breathing filled the space between them. Every step felt measured, and precise, her senses alive with the awareness of the moment. Finally, he was cornered. She hurled another knife. ‘Wrong. You kidnapped our people. Last chance: surrender or die.

He howled in pain. “You half-breed scum… The kingdom will never accept you! You should die with the rest of your race!” He spat the words with venom.

Her heart raced. She’d felt rejection too often. Her family's protection kept her safe from the hatred bred by the war, but sometimes she wondered if leaving would lessen their burden.

“Now, just what do you think you’re saying to my little sister?” A cold voice emerged from behind her, and Orilana felt a rush of relief mixed with fear. It was Veric, and he was furious.

The slaver boss went pale, stammering something uncomprehensible as Veric stormed across the room, his fist colliding with the slaver boss’s jaw in a sickening crack. “It’s only your kind that humanity won’t accept… As long as I live, she will always have a home here.” Veric spat on the unconscious slaver. 

He turned to Orilana, his expression softening. You’ve come far, Ori, but you’ll always have a home with us,” Veric said, hugging her tightly.

“But what if this is my only chance to prove myself? If I fail, will I ever belong?” she stammered, the fear of rejection twisting in her chest. The words stuck in her throat, weighed down by the familiar ache of doubt. What if this was just a fluke? What if tomorrow, they realized she didn’t belong?

Veric flicked her forehead, snapping her out of it. The familiar gesture, both comforting and irritating, grounded her amidst the chaos.

His sea-green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Does my daughter call you ‘Auntie Ori’ or not?” he teased, a lopsided grin on his face.

Heat crept up her neck, and she quickly looked away, heart pounding. Why did he always have to tease her like that? But even through her embarrassment, a flicker of determination sparked. If she was to be ‘Auntie Ori,’ she’d have to prove herself worthy of the title.

“The matter’s settled,” Veric declared, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Now come on. Alexia’s cooking tonight for once, and I’m not facing that alone.”

“Erm, can’t I skip tonight? What about him?” she asked, nodding toward the slaver boss, who lay slumped in a broken chair, soldiers surrounding him.

Just then, members of the First Army arrived, saluting Veric. “General the streets are cleared, and all the slavers have been arrested. The former slaves are being transported to the local hospital before new living arrangements will be made for them, or transported to their original homes. Thanks to you, the kingdom is safe.”

“Well done, Lieutenant. Get the boss to trial, and brief the king. Orilana did the vital work on this operation—she deserves the praise.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Veric, no... I’m a spy. I work in the shadows...”

“Nonsense,” Veric grinned. “You earned it. Now, let’s go home.”

As he began to guide her away, Orilana hesitated, glancing back at the battered tavern. The slaver boss, now at the mercy of the soldiers, seemed so small. Did I really prove myself tonight? Will I ever belong?

Veric’s sea-green eyes locked onto hers. ‘This is because of you.’ Warmth chased away the doubt in her chest. “I just wanted to prove I could make a difference,” she whispered.

“And you did,” Veric replied, rapping his knuckles on her head. “Also, how many times must we tell you—you’d be the perfect spy if you stopped doubting yourself.”

She smiled. 'I’ll keep fighting,' she promised, resolve hardening in her bones. As Veric’s words sank in, the fog that had lingered in her heart for so long began to lift. She wasn’t just Orilana the spy, the half-demon. She was part of something bigger. She belonged.