The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

Glaustro was acting way too cautious. Sure, I had argued strongly for pursuing Wilhelmina while we had such an amazing opportunity on our hands. But did that really mean he had to imprison me in the city?

Apparently so. All of my requests to go out on a short patrol with Mia the following day were ignored. Instead, my major ordered me to 'put up more buildings that could be useful.'

The question was, useful for what?

All the notable officers, captains and up, already had their new lodgings. And while it might sound cruel, I was not about to waste time putting up buildings for each and every soldier. They could be grateful for the huge shared dorms we'd made. The buildings were a little ugly, and they were made of ice, but I knew for a fact that these soldiers had lived in worse conditions before.

I argued the city was in good shape regarding construction, but it didn't matter. My major simply smiled and ordered me to build something.

So, feeling just a tad spiteful, I went straight to the central square and put up four very tacky sculptures of our glorious leader at each of the cardinal direction points. I was kind enough to let the statues wear loincloths, mostly because I was afraid of what Glaustro would do to me otherwise. I'd have done a massive central statue instead, but we needed that space for the eventual obelisk that would link us to the Abyss.

Then, just because I could, I started paving the city streets properly. It was a tricky job. Not only was it snowing the entire time, but the ground was actually made of ice. At least the walls I had put up around the city kept the wind from whipping the snow into a blinding fury.

Mia very morosely followed in my footsteps and even occasionally helped break up the monotony with some banter, but her heart wasn't in it. She was benched as well. Worse still, she had only discovered this when she tried to leave the city without consulting our majorness. Sure, neither of us liked going on missions without the other, but I wouldn't have blamed her if she had managed to get away.

Alas, Glaustro was good at thinking ahead.

I actually covered a decent portion of the city that day. If I didn't have to sink so much crystal under the ice to prevent any shifting, I might have finished it all in an afternoon. As it was, when mana exhaustion set in around the early evening, Mia and I started trudging in the direction of home.

Home.

That thought amused me. According to all logic, 'home' should have been the Abyss. It was kind of difficult to grow fond of Torment, though.

For one thing, I had no idea how to go about getting a place there. Were there real estate agents I could hunt down? What were the prices like? Was it better to rent or to buy? I had never put the effort in to find out. The idea simply didn't appeal to me.

Of course, we did have the quarters assigned to our little army when Glaustro was promoted. They were decent enough. But could you really count something like that as 'home'? A place which can just as easily get reassigned to someone else? I would say no.

So, that's how the first home I ever owned in either of my lives ended up being one I had built with my very own (magical) hands. On a world bound in ice and vigorously ravaged by gale winds. What fun!

All sarcasm aside, I felt an odd warmth settling inside me as Mia and I approached our place, near Glaustro's on the main square. We had chosen the location. We had put up the building. We had even made silly alterations for maximum comfort, just because we could.

Which made our whole setup a bit… odd.

Did we need massive windows in the bedroom with wide frames and plenty of blankets so we could 'sunbathe' on an ice age planet? No. But Mia thought they sounded cozy, and it wasn't like making them was hard.

The bedroom was a good example of our home's quirkiness overall. It was roughly circular in shape, poking out like a small tower. The room was pretty much all bed with the exception of shelves recessed into walls. We didn't bother with storage pieces like wardrobes, since we had dimensional storage items. Even the shelves were more for convenience so we could have stuff at hand… or for an utterly silly cat to curl up on when I said she couldn't possibly fit.

Which she did. Somehow. Because even demon-type cats were apparently liquid and didn't care about the laws of physics.

"We should stop by the apothecary again," I mused aloud. "That tea you picked out last time was nice. We can take some home and go through more of my mother's books."

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Mia communicated her agreement through mostly inarticulate noises. Lazy cat didn't even care to open her mouth sometimes.

As we stopped at the apothecary's shop, I couldn't help but marvel at how quickly our city was developing, even without access to the Abyss. Not all of the soldiers who signed on with Glaustro were obsessed with the murder/pillage life. In fact, most of them didn't care for it all that much. That's just the most accessible and profitable calling for demons in Torment who are down on their luck.

Fairmont, the apothecary owner, was one of those demons. He had always been fascinated by herbs and remedies, even when he was a mortal. Being exposed to so many new worlds had only deepened his interest. He'd actually tried to become an alchemist before winding up as a soldier, but he'd burned through souls too quickly to make the profession profitable. So, back into the field of battle he went.

He had, however, used his first paycheck before we left Torment to stock up on a wide variety of herbs and spices, intending to experiment when he had the time. Now those stocks were sitting in transparent, glass-like drawers made out of extremely thin crystal. The drawers took up at least sixty percent of the space inside the store and were a real pain to shape, let me tell you.

I almost killed the demon a couple times because he was a bit too specific about his setup. In return for sparing his life and getting his shop set up in the first place, Mia and I enjoyed a permanent steep discount.

I had paid for the tea and was waiting for Mia to finish investigating some of the herbs when the door opened. Methialia staggered inside. She looked even worse than usual. Even as I opened my mouth to greet her, she stumbled and started to fall.

I was by her side in an instant, just managing to catch her before she gave the floor a kiss using her nose.

"Are you alright? Captain? Methialia?"

Only at the mention of her name did her eyes flutter open. Even then, it took her several long moments to focus on my face.

"Sergeant…? What is…? Oh."

She flushed with embarrassment, but the red that touched her extremely pale cheeks was only barely visible. Typically, her skin was a warm rose color, but she had been getting paler since we arrived on Breskwor. She could give a corpse a run for its money in the pallor department at this point.

"Fairmont! A chair!"

The demoness in my arms protested as the shopkeeper squeaked and hurried away to obey. I ignored both reactions, leading her closer to the counter. Methialia was violently shivering. When she briefly gripped my hand for stability, I realized she was colder than the air outside.

Fairmont finally emerged from the back, carrying a very impractical crystal chair that was honestly uncomfortable as all hell. I winced a little as I lowered Methialia into it. I had made the thing that way on purpose, as payback for all the shopkeeper's annoying demands, but I hadn't intended my captain to suffer.

"What happened? What's going on with you? Fairmont, can you brew us some tea? As hot and as invigorating as you can make it. Charge me for the pot."

"You don't have to —" Methialia cut off her protests when Fairmont scurried away too quickly to hear them. Then she leaned back into the chair with a sigh, wincing only a little.

"I'm fine. There's no reason to panic so much. The weather just… doesn't agree with me."

I looked her over again, then once more when I noticed something I had missed before. "Where are your wings? And what do you mean you're fine? You just collapsed."

Another wince, much more badly concealed. "I just need a warm drink. I was out scouting for too long. We're all trying to find Wilhelmina's trail, but no luck so far."

Frustration warred with concern, but I set aside the former with an effort. "I understand that, but you dodged the question about your wings. Don't think I didn't notice."

"I… I just can't manifest them right now. They'll be back. I'm fine."

I honestly couldn't tell who she was trying to convince. It was also glaringly obvious that she was anything but 'fine.'

"If you say so." I shrugged, pretending a careless tone. "So you won't mind if I tell Glaustro to keep you in the city until you can manifest your wings then, right?"

She whipped her head around, eyes growing impossibly large, but Fairmont's hasty return saved her from having to answer. He was carrying a tray, precariously balancing a decanter of tea with a large mug. I shook my head as the decanter wobbled.

What is this man doing as an active soldier?

Rolling my eyes, I took the tray and poured tea for the ailing demoness. She gripped the steaming mug with both hands like some kind of lifeline. Watching her drain it, I realized I could track the path of the liquid through her system. As the heat spread, her skin was darkening into its accustomed rosy hue.

But the renewed vigor only appeared in patches. The relief also seemed to be temporary. Seconds after she put the mug down, the rosy color began to grow pale again.

Still, the sigh she let out was genuinely contented. "Thanks. I needed that."

The admission looked like it pained her. I frowned. We weren't exactly close, but I didn't think one of my captains trusted me so little that she would rather freeze to death than ask for help.

A crazy thought, I know: a demon freezing to death. Then again, there was clearly more going on than I knew.

"Listen, Methialia." I knelt down in front of the chair and kept my voice low. "I know you probably don't want to go spilling all your secrets to two superior officers and a store clerk, but you are not doing well. Now, I'm going to make this offer only once, and then I'm not going to push again. Please tell me what's wrong with you. We're going to do our best to help, but you need to let us."

I didn't make the offer on a whim. The woman had taught me how to fly, been very pleasant company, fought alongside me, and was an amazingly competent demoness. If I was honest with myself, the only reason she wasn't a sergeant and I a captain was a bit of personal strength and a dash of nepotism. Even so, she practically ran our scouts all on her own.

Several emotions flitted over her face in response to my plea. Hesitation, frustration, bone-deep weariness, and something else I couldn't figure out.

Eventually, though, she shot me a sad smile.

"Fine. Could I bother you to help me make my way home, then? We can talk there."

I nodded, smiling in relief. That was step one.

Now I actually needed to fix whatever was wrong with my captain.