On the ruins of the throne there sat a large shadow. Garbage was scattered about—the wings and feet of songbirds, a half-eaten fig, raw wheat, and frogs’ legs. A fiend was sinking its teeth into a raw boar’s head. As Mora and Marmanna watched, the whole head sank into the creature’s mouth in the blink of an eye, bones and all. The being had the face of a lizard and the body of a beast, and on its back, three wings. Mora’s instincts told her this was the one that had written the letter—Tgurneu.
“Hello,” said the fiend.
“Tgurneu, was it? You’re quite the vulgar creature,” retorted Mora, looking up at the fiend as it licked off its palm.
“Pardon me. I’m such a horribly voracious eater. If I were to miss a meal, I’d be dead of starvation before you know it. I’ll clean up. Hold on.”
Were this creature’s manners good or bad? Either way, Tgurneu gathered the fallen scraps into a bag before approaching the Saints. “It’s nice to meet you, Mora. My name is Tgurneu. I’m the foremost retainer of the great Evil God.” The fiend put its hand on its chest and bowed respectfully. Its body language was so human, but its form was not. It made for an unbearably eerie sight.
“…Ah-ha, ah-ha-ha! This really isn’t what I expected, Mora!” Marmanna’s voice trembled.
“Pardon me,” said Tgurneu, “who is the beautiful lady here?”
“This is Marmanna, Saint of Words,” said Mora. “I asked her to be witness to our negotiations.”
“I thought I told you to come alone.”
“I never said I would.”
Tgurneu shrugged and then bowed to Marmanna as he had to Mora. “Well, whatever. You can never have too many opportunities to meet a lovely lady.”
“Ah-ha! I got a compliment from a fiend.” Marmanna laughed, and Tgurneu approached her, hand extended. Wondering what the creature could be thinking, she took its hand and gave it a proper bow.
“Now we will negotiate,” declared Mora. “Marmanna, I must have you swear to me one thing: Do not speak of what we are about to discuss here today to anyone.”
“Of course. If this story got out, it’d cause an uproar,” said Marmanna. She used her power as the Saint of Words, manifesting a little ball of light from the tip of her index finger, and spoke to it. “This I swear to the Spirit of Words: I will speak to no one of what happens today in this place. May I die if I break this promise.” The ball of light jumped into Marmanna’s chest. Now the oath was complete. Not even Marmanna herself could release herself from this contract.
“Tgurneu, you will swear, too,” instructed Mora. “Do not speak of this to any humans, fiends, or the Evil God. I take it you won’t mind that?” If what was about to occur in this place were revealed to the world, Mora’s life would be over. She would most likely be banished from All Heavens Temple and lose her qualifications as the Saint of Mountains. Her husband and daughter could also come under fire, as the family of the evildoer who had contracted with a fiend.
“Sure.” Surprisingly enough, Tgurneu agreed readily. “I doubt you would strike a deal with me if I didn’t. Then I would have come here for nothing.”
Marmanna created a ball of light, and Tgurneu swore to it. The ball of light sank into its chest, and the contract was complete. The power of the Saint of Words also worked on fiends. About two hundred years before, experiments on captive ones had confirmed that as fact.
“My, my, Mora. You’re not going to swear?” asked the creature.
“Is it necessary?”
“…Well, whatever, then.” Tgurneu shrugged. “Now then, let’s begin the negotiations. As you know, one of my subordinates has created a parasite, and right now, it nests in your daughter’s heart. The only way it can be removed is by my personal order for it to destroy itself. With a snap of my fingers, I could make your daughter suffer hellish agony and die. You’ve already had a taste of what that anguish could be like.” The ten-day nightmare Shenira had endured—that had been a threat for Mora. Rage so intense it made her dizzy welled up inside her.
“But don’t worry, Mora. I have no desire for your adorable little Shenira’s death. If you hear my request, then I’ll save her. If I order that parasite to destroy itself, it will vanish in an instant.”
“What is your demand?”
“Do you really need ask? I have only one desire.” Arms spread wide, Tgurneu gesticulated like a bad actor. “The Evil God’s resurrection is nigh—our third encounter, with the life or death of mankind and fiendkind hanging in the balance—the final battle is at hand.”
“Tell me your demand,” Mora repeated.
“Mora, I want you to kill the Braves of the Six Flowers.”
She replied without hesitation. “I refuse.”
Tgurneu regarded her for a moment. “…Oh?”
“If the Braves of the Six Flowers are defeated, then the world will end. If the Evil God is fully revived, then my daughter and husband will both die. That would make any deal moot.”
Marmanna looked at Mora with wide eyes. “Wait, are you serious? Didn’t you come here to save Shenira?”
The Elder did not reply. She crossed her arms to hide her shaking hands. What she really wanted to do was throw herself at Tgurneu’s feet and beg for mercy. She wanted to cry out that she would do anything to preserve her daughter’s life. But that would not save Shenira. She couldn’t keep her beloved daughter safe if she didn’t keep the world safe, too.
Tgurneu pondered quietly, and then, for some reason, suddenly burst into applause. “That’s a good answer, Mora. I thought you might say that.” The fiend’s hands stilled, and it continued with a smile. “Now then, let’s continue our negotiation. The night is still long. We have plenty of time for discussion.” Tgurneu carried over two chairs that had been beside the throne and
