B5 C40: The Sleepless Child

Though her father had only demanded that she read him a single line of her character sheet, Cal continued to look through the rest of her st

Though her father had only demanded that she read him a single line of her character sheet, Cal continued to look through the rest of her status. Though she’d long since memorized it all, she found the information fascinating.

Name: Calilah

Age: 2

Race: Halfling (Human/Demon)

Class: None

Demonic Rank: Sealed

Focusing on the line she’d just read aloud, her basic status was replaced with additional details. At the king’s continued silence, Cal continued to read this to him as well.

Halfling (Human/Demon)

A cross between a human and a demon, greatly favoring the human side. Your appearance will match that of a standard human, and for purposes of calculating stat gains per level, you will be treated as a human as well. Your demonic rank has been sealed.

Having inherited some minor demonic biology and compatibility with demonic mana, your body naturally relies on mana for its biological needs. Like most demons, you require no sustenance or sleep. Other more minor similarities may arise as well.

If she was a cross between a human and a demon, did that mean her mother was one of these “demon” things? Or was her father? Probably her mother, Cal decided. She was pretty certain her father was a human, and no one would ever tell her anything about her mother.

After this, too, was finished without a word, she turned her attention to the other unknown, bringing up another description to read.

Demonic Rank: Sealed

A measure of your place within the hierarchy of demons, ranging from Dredge to Arch-Empress. This rank is partially inherited, though it may rise or sink based on a host of factors including your leadership, Prestige, achievements, and mana purity.

As you are predominantly human and do not produce any demonic mana, your rank has been sealed.

A good deal of the words went over her head, but that was fine. She was certain her father knew far more words than she did, and he didn’t seem to be confused by anything she’d said.

Of course, she wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling, as his previously expressive face had morphed into an unreadable mask over the course of her recitation.

Do I get to know what “demon” means now?

Far from granting her wish, the king slumped in his chair, visibly deflating. “That’s… good. Mostly human. Good.” Only then seeming to recall his daughter’s presence, he straightened himself back up. “It’s nothing! Nothing at all. Don’t think on it too much, and don’t ever say that word to anyone else. Do you understand?”

Leaving his chair and crouching down to eye-level, he placed his powerful hands on her shoulders, making sure he had her attention.

A thousand questions danced atop the tip of her tongue, each one of them banished by the stern gaze her father was fixing her with. “Okay,” she squeaked out with some effort.

One large hand quickly patted her head before turning her around.

Before she knew it, Calilah was ushered out of the room, the door to her father’s study shutting behind her.

She didn’t really know what all of that had been about, but there was one thing she knew.

I still don’t know what a demon is…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While the young princess never forgot her promise to her father, she never forgot the question that necessitated it, either. Thankfully, even if she was forbidden from uttering the word “demon,” there were other ways to sate her curiosity.

In retrospect, even back then, Cal was a handful, skilled at evading her many nannies and tutors whenever something caught her fancy. In fairness to them all, taking care of a child with an endless reserve of energy -- and one who didn’t require a wink of sleep -- sounded like a miserable ordeal.

Which was probably why her caretakers heaved a collective sigh of relief when Cal started taking interest in the palace’s library. For a time, she was always accompanied by one of her minders, but eventually, even that oversight faded away. If the princess wanted to read, where was the harm? It wasn’t as if this was some wizard’s tower: There were no spell books filled with fatal curses simply lying around. Plus, she was a child. Certainly, she could read well for her age, but if there was any material that was too adult for her, she likely wouldn’t be able to grasp it in the first place.

Even so, it took her over a year before she happened upon her quarry. Tucked away in a quiet corner were a handful of books all focusing on the same topic. The shelf containing them was meticulously clean, to the point where one might have wondered if the books had been recently shelved. Either they were new, or someone had been reading them as of late. Given how her father reacted when she said the word “demon,” Cal wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been doing his own research into the matter.

Admittedly, the Cal of today wouldn’t have been surprised. The then-three-year-old Calilah thought nothing of the fact, squealing with glee as she finally got her hands on the answers she’d been searching for.

The first book she selected was the thinnest of the bunch, its spine reading From Demons to Dragons: The Origins of Exotic Races. Not even needing a table of contents, she let the book fall open, finding that someone had already earmarked a few pages. Though the thick text forced her to squint with a frown, she pushed through.

Out of all the many storied races, very few have as strange an origin as demons. Though the story has been muddied over the course of millenia and all manner of wives’ tales and legends abound, in scholarly circles, it is widely agreed upon that demons are an artificial race. Suitable evidence from the few sources that are old enough to recall the inception of demons can confirm this as fact.

As the story goes, a group of deities once came together with a particularly lofty goal: creating the most powerful race imaginable. Fervently pursuing their quest, they explored every imaginable avenue, stopping at nothing. Alchemy, mutations, magitech, time-dilated evolution, stitched-together chimeras, and more. Indeed, demons are not the only race to owe their origin to this mad project, though they are arguably its largest success.

In the end, the solution came from an ill-explored and unlikely branch of magic: mana engineering. Mostly thought to be a field for eccentric wizards with too much time on their hands, mana engineering asks the question, “How much can we alter the properties of mana with our intent?” Previously, the field was best suited for party tricks. Can a powerful archmage alter water mana until it naturally dries things out? Can they alter fire mana until it freezes its surroundings?

The gods, however, have far stronger wills than mere mortals, and with many of them working together, they bent the fundamental underpinnings of neutral mana in inconceivable ways. Their result did something all believed to be impossible until then: They created a type of mana that, with no other inputs required, could create a living soul out of nothing.

While the accounts vary from that point on, most agree that this was the most difficult step in the process. From there, the mana type was further refined, altering the minds and bodies attached to the souls in question. It is said that, as a result, those born directly from demonic mana know the entire Common language from birth, and their bodies operate far more efficiently than standard sentient races, requiring neither sleep nor sustenance. Their offspring maintain these effects to an extent as well. To this day, demonic mana is thought to be the most complex instance of engineered mana in existence.

Unfortunately, the mad gods’ mana worked a little too well. After introducing demons to the greater world, they began to sweep through any opposition with ease. Worse yet, the demonic mana they released was toxic to all other life, leaving any land they claimed barren even if they were driven off.

As a result, it is widely accepted that the race was banished from the universe, and the 99 hells were created to house them. Most remaining demons are either temporary summons, hybrids, rare exceptions, or hunted down.

For more information on related races, see pages…

Cal closed the book with a frown. Half of the text had gone over her head, and the other half had raised more questions than it answered. An artificial race? Crafted by the gods? More than that, reading about the race’s origins didn’t tell her what demons were actually like.

Swapping out her reading material, Calilah grabbed a new book with the much simpler title Demonic Bloodlines and Ranks. Unfortunately, there were no easy earmarks, and the book was rather dense, and it took her several trips to the library before she found anything worthwhile. Eventually, a few passages started to clear things up for her.

The gods created demons to be superior to other races, but what exactly does that mean? Superior poets? Superior dancers? Chefs and sculptors? With their endless sub-races and evolutions, one could argue the point, but the clear answer is no. Demons were built with one goal in mind: to be superior fighters, singularly, but mostly in groups. Demons, for worse or for worse, were made for war.

Some of the benefits the gods granted demons are very obviously suited for this purpose. An entire army of demons needs no supply lines for food. They cannot be ambushed in their sleep or grow tired from multi-day long pitched battles. It is often reported that their emotions were tampered with as well, excising any hint of natural empathy from the race. Indeed, even hybrids have been reported to lack much in the way of guilt or empathy, often turning them into prideful pleasure-seekers who flaunt the law to do whatever they wish.

For all of that, there is no clearer example of the gods’ intentions than demonic ranks. From birth, demons are already slotted into a rigid, military hierarchy. Arguably, this is true even before birth. Prior to gaining a full soul, newly born demons are referred to as “drudges,” and have the lowest rank. Any higher-ranked demon is free to command these drudges as they wish.

From that point onwards, the pattern holds where higher-ranked demons have a strong compulsory and suppressive effect on their lesser ranks, almost fully eliminating the risk of military insubordination.

Worse yet, rising in rank almost always requires leading other demons in battles or killing other demons of similar rank. Since the time of their banishment, it is reported that the 99 hells are constantly in a state of war. Even when at peace, their culture is fraught with rampant duels to the death, gladiatorial arenas, and assassinations, as each demon frantically tries to raise their rank.

For the few lucky enough to do so, the noble ranks are lucrative beyond belief, granting stronger bodies, mana channels, and even more stats per level in some cases. The end result is a race with the most cutthroat militaries alive…

Calilah quickly lost interest after that, especially as her rank was considered “sealed.”

For weeks, Calillah continued to slip into the library, pulling out whatever books on demons that she could whenever no one was around. Sadly, the young princess was not quite as circumspect as the modern Cal, nor had she earned even a single level of Stealth or point of Perception yet. It happened right as she was reading a particularly enlightening passage that finally answered what demons looked like.

Out of all the many races, few are quite as varied as demons. In addition to classes, demons have subraces. Depending on their environment, their actions as a drudge, and the stats they assign, demons evolve when they get their full soul. This evolution can result in anything from an imp to a succubus, and quite a large range in between. Each sub-race has its own stat gains per level and-

“Calilah!” A thunderous roar practically shook the table she was sitting at, entirely out of place for the usually peaceful library. “What in the hells are you reading?”

Without her noticing, her father had slipped into the library at some point. Or, that wasn’t quite right. From the stern fury etched across his face, Calilah could say without a doubt that she wasn’t looking at her father; she was looking at the king.

Storming over to her table, he practically tore the book she was reading out of her hands. “What did I tell you last time? You are to forget about anything having to do with… this.” In a flurry of motion that a level one child could barely follow, the king stashed the books away before grabbing his daughter’s arm. 

Not waiting for any excuses or explanation, he insistently tugged her towards the door, muttering under his breath. 

“Perhaps we’ll go to a priest… Yes, that’ll do. Something suitably holy to banish any thought of demons from her mind.” Tearing himself from his thoughts to address his daughter, the king wiped the scowl off of his face, replacing it with a regal grin.

“Calilah, if you’re sorry about what you’ve done behind my back, come along with your father. How would you like to train to take on a priestess class when you’re older?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The years passed, much as years tended to. Though Cal never quite forgot about her demonic origins, any further questions faded into the background. 

Or, more accurately, they were pushed there, shoved behind years of priestly training. Day after day flickered by, spent trapped in stuffy churches and cathedrals, listening to sermons and reciting prayers, discussing the various relevant deities and becoming “one with the Light.” Combined with her standard tutoring, all the holiness took up the bulk of her day. Were she any other child, the many lectures would have bored her to sleep, exhausting her by day’s end.

And yet, she wasn’t just any child.

Not keen on advertising his child’s demonic nature, her father never scheduled anything for her during the night, instead leaving her to her own devices. Night after countless night, Calilah tried to confine herself to her bed, dutifully closing her eyes and willing sleep to come.

Looking back, Cal would like to say that she rebelled against her father on principle for ignoring her questions and forcing the mantle of a priestess upon her. In reality, it was that nightly monotony that did her in. With next to no friends her age and with almost no time devoted to any sort of physical exertion, Calilah was already impossibly antsy throughout the day, and the night only magnified that feeling.

And so, one day, she got out of bed, and she tried to sneak out.

The attempt failed, foiled by locked doors and attentive guards, but what was a singular failure when she was up every night? Dozens of failures eventually transformed into a single success, and then another after that.

From there, the rest was history. The palace became her playground at night, and against her father’s wishes, she eventually threw five of her free points into Dexterity. Stealth soon followed. Was it any surprise that she received countless stealth-based class choices when she finally hit level ten? The class token -- a gift from her father to ensure she got a good priestess class -- was instead used on something far more interesting.

Infiltrator (Priestess of Light)

With her class skills, the world quickly opened up to her. The first time she managed to sneak out of the palace entirely, everything seemed to fall into place.

By day, she continued with her facade, presenting as the holy and dutiful daughter, Calilah. By night, she wandered out into the city as the Infiltrator, Cal. First she was only a passive observer, skulking through the streets and eavesdropping outside of pubs, and then, ever so slowly, she grew more active. After a few ill-advised thefts and close calls, she accidentally turned into an urban legend of sorts, and over time that legend only grew.

And it was almost enough. Sometimes. At least during the night, anyway.

But of course she longed for more.

So when the perfect opportunity presented itself, how could she resist? She could still remember the day she left with Tess with perfect clarity. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Initially, Cal had been worried about Tess’s high Perception, but she quickly discovered that Perception didn’t necessarily equate to inquisitiveness or outstanding powers of deduction. When the two went off to Drawgin, the Protagonist never questioned the fact that she never saw Cal sleeping. 

Even when Cal stayed out all night, wandering from bar to bar to advertise Tess’s arena fight, Tess never noticed anything amiss. Later on, in Emer’Thalis, her sleeplessness let her explore the city’s forest night after night. When she discovered the basement of an ancient temple buried beneath the forest soil, she didn’t even bother waiting until morning to wake Tess up, prodding her awake in the middle of the night. And gods only knew how useful her skills were with Hex: Cal would have died a million times over if she’d been forced to sleep in the brutal training realm the goddess had set up for her.

Despite all that, Cal didn’t think about demons much anymore. Not usually, at least. In fact, only twice more did her nature truly come up.

Once with Hex. Even now, Cal refused to think about the encounter, her face wrinkling in distaste.

And once, shortly after, with her father.

In the wake of a pointless war, Cal snuck into her father’s tent to speak with him for the first time in over a year.

They shouted. They argued. He demanded that she return with him to Ftheran. She dismissed him out of hand.

But as the lengthy back-and-forth began to taper down, Cal finally asked one of the questions that she’d long since buried in the back of her mind.

“I’m old enough now. And you know that ignoring it didn’t actually help. Can you tell me about my mother?” Somehow, the topic had always been more taboo than speaking about demons, and Cal had gathered next to no information about her second parent.

Sadly, she’d gather little on this occasion, too. In a decidedly un-kingly manner, her father turned his head to the side and spat.

“You have no need to know anything about that vile woman except for the fact that she is irrelevant to you. She hid her nature from me until the very day you were born before fleeing, never to return. From what little she told me, she viewed you more as a failed experiment than a true daughter, and you’d do best to rid yourself of any lingering curiosity.”

For a moment, it seemed that this was all he would offer her, but almost offhandedly, he tacked on one last thought.

“And besides, you’re mostly human. There’s no reason to worry as long as your rank remains sealed. You needn’t think about any demonic matters, nor would she have any reason to care about your existence. Now, let us put this foolishness behind us and return to the matter at hand. You will be returning with me to Ftheran, and-”

Another round of arguments came and went until Cal finally slipped out from the tent much like she’d arrived. While most of her father’s words could be easily ignored, that one line kept playing in her head over and over again.

“There’s no reason to worry as long as your rank remains sealed.” 

Rushing back to Emer’Thalis under the cloak of her newly acquired Apex Shroud, the princess couldn’t help but glance at her status with a frown. And as the memory resurfaced a full two years later as she fled back to the prairie with Verin in tow, the same troubled expression returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~

In an entirely separate region, largely devoid of life save for one Protagonist and one demonic dungeon boss, Tess suppressed a groan as a familiar notification assaulted her.

You have received a quest!