Chapter 248: A Tale Through Ages, Part
After that point, the vapid stagnant sounds of the forest greens no longer consisted of just the chirping of birds and the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind. Every few weeks, months... dried twigs would snap, the bushes would sway... maybe sometimes, even laughter would echo.
And that’s when the sole listless resident of the creepy giant forest knew that they returned. For better or for worse, they always do.
This stubborn old man it seems, had a robe for every occasion – the coldest of winters, the warmest of springs – without fail she’d watch him shamble along the creeks, over the fallen trees, just for that one fleeting chance to plead for her help once more.
She almost felt bad turning him away each and every time.
And always clinging close by his side, diligently helping him through the thick and narrow, the little demon child. Ruria, her glimmering crimson eyes sparkling wide, always had something new in her hands... there was always something to learn, always something new to practice with.
Sometimes she’d only entertain his pointless squabbles just to gain a few more extra moments helping herself to the little bundle of joy he brought with. She’d cheered her with every success, comforted her for every failure – it was almost like having a daughter again.
Although she knew she could never truly be...
.....
“Are you trying to make her you?” Ria asked Castus after one particularly strenuous session. “She’s – what, seven? Demons her age don’t usually spend their days learning to make a ball appear from one place to another.”
“Eight,” He replied, cautiously placing a sleepy Ruria against a nearby tree. “And of course not. The magic I use would not fit well with her nature... soon she’ll develop her own abilities more entwined with what she is. Still, it does no harm in learning more than most. Perhaps one day it might even prove useful to her.”
This went on, from the first few months to the first few years. Ruria was getting taller, smarter... her beauty only growing more prominent with time. Meanwhile, Castus continued to age... it started taking longer for them to navigate through the forest.
Yet though his vigor was fading, his persistence just kept growing stronger by the day. He tried everything he could think of, and when that proved ineffective still, he went and thought some more.
He notified her of the ongoings on the outside, every attack, every land ravaged, every settlement lost. Soon, he attempted to forewarn, Terestra’s reach would even stretch all the way here.
And yet in spite of it, all he could raise from her was an apathetic brow.
“Let me ask you this,” Ria asked, the blanket of snowy white beneath her feet evaporating instantly under every step she’s trodden. “If this Terestra is as powerful and terrifying as you claim she is to be, what makes you think I’ll be able to do anything about it?”
“M-my dear Ria,” He stammered, managing a smile through chattering teeth, clutching onto his wooly robes even tighter. “You s-still think me f-foolish, d-do you?”
“Well...” She looked at him – a shriveling shivering mess creeping closer to a rapidly dwindling campfire. “You only expect a fool to be so willingly eager to freeze himself to death.”
“R-Ruria’s scourging for more dry b-branches.”
“Now that’s wise for a fool,” She smirked, outstretched an open palm, and in an instant, a bright stream of orange light lit ablaze the woodpile with hot flames, warm and comforting. “And that’s even wiser.”
“See?” Castus spoke, breathing out a wispy breath. “What you can do. The stories, the legends... shared through the centuries. I know Prestes had to be your doing. The lost continent... an entire landmass reduced to nothing but scorched earth within minutes and yet not a single cause for it – it had to be you. Your life through history is not hard to track when you know what you’re looking for.”
“Please...” She was rolling her eyes again, turning away again.
“The Seven Churches could use you, Ria.”
The snow was melting faster beneath her. “I am not – !”
“Not everybody in the Church is as bad as you believe,” He spoke up at once, cutting her off. “They’re fighting, centuries after centuries since the dawn of time, one evil after the other... they’re the only ones capable of keeping this realm safe, alive... you know this.”
“Of course I do,” She quietly replied. “But there’s a reason you still say ‘not everybody’ as opposed to just saying ‘everbody’ outright. See, even you know your Churches reeks just as much as the vilest demon... and so long as it remains as ‘not everybody’, then you can consider me unfit for use.”
Ria stalked off deeper into the woods, and once more Castus would leave the forest later that night, knowing failure for the umpteenth time already.
The years continue to pass, the seasons continue to change. Ruria was thirteen now and was as boisterous as ever. There was no need to hope for any sunlight to filter through the narrow slits in the treetops when her smile could so easily brighten even the most pitch black of places.
She no longer practiced, Ria noticed... now instead of objects, books of all sizes and shapes would be tucked away underneath her arm. It seems she’s an avid reader – fascinating stories can so easily mesmerize her for hours on end.
And for the instances when there was absolutely nothing of interest to read, well... living a long life has its perks, you’re bound to have an intriguing story or two to be told. Even Castus would put a halt to his spiels if only for a moment just to sit and listen to one of them.
Perhaps they were more than just intriguing, after all.
It was becoming increasingly apparent by the weeks that the only highlight of the old bumbling fool’s occasional visit was the leisure time she gained with his much more charming, pleasing daughter.
Soon she’ll be a fine woman, Ria mused once during one of their many times together. Ruria had that distinct scent to her already – the sway, the movement – the kind that could turn heads and keep them turning. It seems the succubi gain their natural qualities young.
The horns on her head were protruding more prominent, her tail snaking through the grass, now longer than ever... it was getting harder each day to see her as just a child still.
But Ria still managed... so long as she kept smiling, she could always see it – the innocence, the kindness, the happiness – and it just kept getting wider each and every day she came by to visit.
Sometimes it almost felt as if that smile could just keep stretching on forever and ever.
But of course, it couldn’t.
It didn’t.
The next time the twigs snapped and the bushes rustled, waiting for her by the old rotting stump... a Ruria without a smile, a Ruria soaking the grass with the deepest, darkest red.
Ria smelt it before she saw it... strongly too. The smell of blood, her nose had grown quite accustomed to detecting even the faintest trace.
There was nothing faint about the smell now.
“Ru-Ruria, what... what happened to you?”
For the first time in a long time, she was speechless. She could only stand and stare – her arms, her legs... even her clothes, blood just continued to drip and douse the soil from under her.
“I think the Churches found out about me...” Ruria said, her voice as empty as her stare. “I think... because... there were Elf-Knights outside and... he told me to hide, I...”
She trailed off, and began to blink in rapid succession. “Um, anyway, my father, he – he told me that if anything were to happen to him, that I should go to you for help... that you would help us. He said you will.”
Her eyes no longer sparkled. “Help us.”
Sometimes Ria still wondered why she never did help that day. She could have tried, maybe he was still alive... but the blood on her body, the length of time it’d take to reach... Ruria was a smart girl, surely she must know.
She did know. She was smart. But he was her father... and everything else stopped mattering.
Ria held her still, kept her there... Castus would have wanted her safe, would have wanted her out of harm’s reach, so she bore with it... bore with the deep, sharp scratches on her arms, the hoarse screams piercing her ears, and the hot tears falling onto her skin... she bore with it all.
She didn’t mind the pain too much – it’d heal, they always do... the bleeding stops, the aching stops. It’s the tears – they’re the ones that never stop flowing, that never stop hurting.
It was after that day when Ria eventually realized that she no longer had to be wary of the snapping of twigs or the rustle of bushes. She noticed they started becoming few and far between.
Weeks at first... then months... years...
Laughter no longer echoed in the greens of the forest.
It was after that day that Ruria lost her smile.
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