Dancing with the Devil

The words on the candlestick

Kalista's mind drifted into a fog. She knew it was a dream, but she kept trying to find her way through it. The fog was shrouded in silence, and even walking did not disturb its stillness.

Someone was chanting something. It was not in any language she recognized, and the intonation was a mix of slow and fast, distant and near. The speaker's voice was particularly strange, sometimes joyful, sometimes angry, and it made her hair stand on end. Her back was numb, she could not control her body, and she could not make a sound.

The only sound that lingered in her ears was the complex curse. It slowly wove a web around her, drawing it tighter and tighter.

Kalista's brain screamed in panic, trying to struggle, crying out for help, as she sank deeper into the dark web, pulled into the vortex by the growing roar of curses.

Just before the darkness swallowed her whole, the strange curse suddenly rearranged itself in her mind into words, short and powerful, and impossible to refuse.

"... I summon you to come."

Kalista was ejected from the dream. She opened her eyes and broke out in a cold sweat.

The scene in the dream was not strange, yet she couldn't tell if it was a frequent occurrence or a real event. But now was not the time to ponder dreams. Before she lost consciousness, a killer had been poised to take her life.

The light was dim, and there was no mist or forest, only rough-hewn stone walls and useless candlesticks on either side of the narrow passage.

Kalista realized that she was most likely in a passageway that connected the underground palace to the castle. It was a relief that she still had feeling in her hands and feet. In the moments before she passed out, she saw...

"Lancelot?"

The name escaped her lips in a two-syllable whisper before her brain could process it. Her throat was in such poor condition that it seemed as if she had been sawing a table leg with a rusty iron sword. The pain of a porcelain shard that had cut her mouth woke her.

Lancelot was gone, and her savior was a devil.

She kept her promise to kill the Count of Vladimir, so the devil kept his promise to save her from the countess. The devil had far more credibility than the countess who tried to use her as a scapegoat and kill her.

The devil held her with one hand and pressed his other to examine the markings on the wall. He found a knight's uniform to throw around, but the human clothes were obviously too small for him and barely covered the key parts.

Kalista huddled in his arms, cold from the loss of blood. The devil's body temperature was higher than normal, and as she approached the iron, she had to admit that he was comfortable in his arms.

"You are awake," said the devil, sensing her movements, and pulling the heavy cloak from behind her, "you need not worry, the count is dead, and the castle is in chaos. I knocked out the dungeon guard, came in from the cell. No one has chased me here yet."

Kalista nodded.

The devil said, "I have treated your wound briefly, and it should be all right."

There was no more pain, no bandages around the body, but the wound had healed itself. In a country where "magic" already exists, Kalista would not suspect if the devil possessed some kind of "black magic" that could heal.

"Thank you." It was another ugly, saw-like sound, and the taste of blood filled her mouth, so she closed her lips.

The devil stared down at her lips for a moment and then stopped. He carried her to the exit. The river flowed quietly until it was close enough to hear the faint sound of running water.

At dawn, the darkness of the sky was slowly receding. The devil stopped where the dawn reached, looking at the exit to which the dark river flowed, somewhat dazed.

Tears congealed at the edges of the abandoned candlesticks on the walls, casting their dim reflections in the morning light. This tunnel was not used for a long time, so how many years was it held? Is the Count of Vladimir the first demon to be caught eating demon livers to extend his life and maintain his looks?

Why did he have the same face as Lancelot?

Curiosity killed the cat. She'd better not delve too far into a demon. Now that there is no threat to life, the priority is to find Evelyn and get her evidence back, and then start our journey back to Serafinia.

It's time to part ways. Kalista smiled. "The front should lead to the outskirts of the castle. You can just drop me here. I slept a little, but I've recovered enough to walk on my own."

The demon did not move, awkwardness and confusion reappeared in his face, and he moved his lips and said, "Is it okay? Your feet are bare."

Kalista's cheeks flushed warm, and she shook her head. "It doesn't matter, there should be a town nearby; I'll just go buy a pair of shoes." As for the money—she had an idea, and pulled out the candlestick from the wall. "It's silver and can be exchanged for a good price."

But the devil still didn't let her go.

"What's the matter?" Kalista held the candlestick and wiped the tears from her eyes. "You have something to say to me?"

"You... Are you the man of prophecy?" the demon stammered, his words were obscure, "I think..."

He suddenly stopped. Lancelot's eyebrows furrowed slowly, and Kalista realized that he was watching her mouth. The wounds on the walls of her mouth and tongue cracked and bled again, the smell of rust spread, and her throat tightened, causing her to vomit blood.

"I'm sorry!" Kalista hurriedly covered her mouth. But the devil moved faster. One finger was between the lines of teeth that were about to be occluded, the other four firmly on the back of her head.

The devil kissed her, and the tip of his hot tongue swept over the wounds in her mouth, l*****g away the sweetness that had escaped.

There was a tingling sensation in the tail vertebrae and a strange chill in the back spine. She refused, he attacked; She thrashed, he choked.

In spite of her struggles, the devil held her within square inches with his arm like a rock. There was a burning itch and heat in every part of his tongue. Beneath this skin of Lancelot, there is a powerful appropriation and an irresistible possession.

Kalista pulled herself free, took the candlestick, without looking back, walked straight into the light.

At the end of the tunnel was a small pier with decaying wooden planks extending out from the bank, and, strangely enough, a canoe anchored to the side. The boat was complete, complete with oars, and even had a lady's dress and a small bag of money on it.

The devil did it? Or Evelyn? Kalista has no clue.

But with no time to hesitate, she quickly changed her clothes and stepped into the boat. She paddled her oars and floated down the river like she had snuck out of the castle when she was a child.

She rinsed the silver candlesticks to remove the devil's blood and dust.

The canoe sailed out of the castle and the sun shone on her face for the first time. She put away the oars, lay back in the boat, and examined the candlestick. The silver works are fine, after the river cleaning, revealing the pattern of thorns and roses.

This is the element that makes up the Serafinia royal coat of arms.

With furrowed brows, Kalista turned the candlestick over and examined the base. Engraved on it is a circle of small words: Serafinia court products.

Kalista suddenly sat up on the boat and had a wild theory in her mind - Avaloria Castle was Serafinia Castle hundreds of years later.

In other words, she could be in the future.