Forge carefully watched as a few droplets of a clear, red liquid were dripped into one of many glass potion vials, all of them lined up and held up on a wooden set.

“How does it look?” Junil asked.

Forge peered into the glass vial as the mixture began to cloud up. He adjusted the leather strap on his glass goggles while doing so.

“I don’t see how this is supposed to work,” General Forge replied. 

“It should, to some degree,” Junil replied. “It works with poisons. The most potent antivenom out there are made with some of the most dangerous venom that exists.”

“These are deadly chemicals you scraped up off the ground,” Forge replied.

“I didn’t ‘scrape them off the ground’. They were controlled samples from the volcanoes in the Demonfolk territories,” Junil retorted.

“Yet, I don’t see how mixing it with any of this’ll make it less deadly.”

“It just will, okay?” Junil snapped.

Forge peered from between the glass vials and the row of plants, half of which were dead.

“I don’t think trying this experiment out ten times in a row with slight variations will make any differences,” he replied.

The Healer sighed, and plopped her clipboard onto the table. “Then what else do you suggest we do?”

Forge stood there, then shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one who proposed the experiment.”

Junil rubbed her forehead.

“But I think we should abandon this,” Forge continued. “No point wasting time trying it further.”

“If you really suggest that we—”

Junil was interrupted by the door swinging open and slamming against the wall behind it. Behind the door was a particular Demonfolk girl — a familiar face, yet her hair was black and shoulder-length, and her eyes an amber color.

“Forrar! Jun-ar!” she exclaimed. “My pen-dant has a problem!”

Forge was holding onto the stand of vials to keep them from shaking after she slammed the door open.

“Sollar! Be careful!” Forge exclaimed. “There’s chemicals and poisons in this place, I don’t want you to knock any of ‘em over!”

“Don’t worry, Forr-ar!” she replied. “I make sure I don’t!”

“My Lady, you can’t just ‘make sure’, you need to be careful,” he replied.

Meanwhile, Ronn stepped up from behind Sollar, urging her into the room. “I do apologize. She outpaced me up the stairs.”

“And across the street too, I’m guessing?” Forge asked.

“Yes. She has a lot of energy.”

“Anyway, why are you two here?” Junil asked. She pulled her glass goggles up over her forehead. “We’re in the middle of an experiment.”

“I have spotted a few irregularities with Sollar’s disguise pendant,” Ronn said. “May you take a look at it, Miss Junil?”

“Yeah! Can you take the magic gem thing off?” Sollar asked. “Feels weird.”

Forge looked from Sollar to Junil. “Pause the experiment?” he asked.

Junil groaned. “Fine. I’ll take a look at it.”

Forge stepped over and unclasped the necklace from around Sollar’s neck. As it came off her body, Sollar’s short, black hair began to lengthen again, and her amber eyes faded back into their apricot color along with her hair. Sollar rubbed the spot against her chest where it had rested.

“It feels weird. Like branches scratching, or dry leaves,” she said.

“The pendant will take some time to adjust to, little one,” Ronn said. “I recommend bearing with the discomfort for the time being.”

Sollar frowned, but nodded. “I know. It does building character.”

Ronn stared down at Sollar, then turned to look at the former General.

“I have noticed her mention it a few times. But where did she learn the concept of ‘building character’?” Ronn asked Forge.

“Oh, that? I think it was one of the other Generals that held her to that standard... General Brington. He was the only one out of us four that actively dissented against how sheltered Sollar was.”

“Are you aware of his whereabouts?”

“You’re not? I knew he was involved in the last battle between you and Lord Luth.”

“I have seen him there, yes. But nothing more after that battle.”

Forge leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know, either. Maybe he fled... west? Or north.”

“How come you are not aware?”

“Jeez, this feels like an interrogation. Well, I didn’t know General Brington all that well, not on a personal level at least. So your guess is as good as mine.”

Meanwhile, Junil was fiddling with the pendant, which glowed in her hands. A few magical circles lifted off from the surface, enlarging for her to examine them. She used her wand to inscribe a few additional markings across the various runes in the pendant.

“I still don’t think paying off the entirety of Fraul’s outstanding loans was the best way to repay her for the disguise pendant,” Junil said.

“The money was to also purchase her silence about Sollar, too,” Ronn replied. “Not that I necessarily mistrust her, but remaining within her goodwill makes the price acceptable. And I do not wish to see a former member of my Party fall into such a state.”

“It was a lot of money, though.”

“She sullied her own name and left New Frontierland in disgrace; would you say that is punishment enough?”

Junil paused her work. Pursing her lips, she said, “You’ve got a point.”

“Indeed. And Fraul is the best mage there is, who else would I assign the creation of the disguise pendant to?”

Junil scoffed. “I get your point, stop kicking my argument further into the ground.”

The Healer drew a few more lines across the enlarged magical circle.

“Gotta ask. How is her alias doing?” the Healer said.

Lunnar was Sollar’s public alias, along with her appearance. Junil said it was uncreative; Forge decried it as atypical to Demonfolk naming traditions. But Sollar herself had been fine with it, and Ronn did not have any objections himself.

“It is doing fine,” Ronn replied. “Nobody has suspected her true nature.”

“And how would you know if anyone suspects a thing?” Junil asked.

“They would typically go to me for threats they believe are connected to the former Demon Lord’s armies. I usually receive a lot of mail for tips on ‘subversive activities’. Most of them are inconsequential, cultural misunderstandings, or anti-Demonfolk paranoia.”

Junil, again, paused her work and scrunched up her face. “Oh, don’t tell me you read through every single one of them—”

“No. I hired Fraul’s former secretarial workforce and former General Seis to read through my mail.”

“Oh,” Junil replied.

Forge perked up at the conversation. “I thought Seis was taking care of Salkin and making sure he remained sober?”

“She is doing both jobs. I raised similar concerns, but she assured me that she is able to handle both the roles of secretary and supervising Salkin.”

Forge whistled. “Tough lady. I envy her time management.”

“She indeed is an impressive individual. I am glad to be working with her.”

Ronn then peered down at Sollar as he heard a tapping sound coming from her. She was tapping her tail on the floor; he quickly recognized that she was getting impatient.

“Miss Sollar, are you aware of what today is?” Ronn asked.

Sollar looked up. “Today?”

“Yes. You are meeting your brother today.”

The Demonfolk girl’s face immediately lit up.

“Meeting Luth-ar day! Let’s go—!”

Right before she shot out the door, the Hero stopped her by holding onto her arm.

Ronn nodded. “Indeed. Let Junil finish tuning the pendant, and we shall be on our way.”

Just at that time, the Healer was putting the finishing touches on the pendant. She flicked her wand, sending the enlarged magical circles and runes to retreat back onto the engraved metal, then picked it off the table.

“Here. Tuned up some of the runes on it. I think I have an idea what’s going wrong, so it should work. I hope.”

Junil stepped up to Sollar, and the Demonfolk girl in question turned around to show the back of her neck. The Healer then raised the necklace over Sollar’s head, then lowered it back down so that she could clasp it around.

The moment the pendant made contact with her again, the changes came immediately. Sollar’s hair shortened and flickered into a black color, and she closed her apricot eyes and opened them again to reveal that her irises had turned a bright yellow.

She then turned back to look at Junil, and smiled.

“Thank you, Jun-ar!” Sollar exclaimed.

“You’re... welcome?” Junil replied. She still wasn’t used to being called that by the Demonfolk girl.

Meanwhile, Ronn had already opened the door out of the building.

“Miss Sollar, are you ready to go?” the Hero asked.

“Yep!”

Sollar bound out of the room, a merry bounce in her step. Ronn followed her, closing the door behind him.

Left in the room were Forge and Junil.

“All things considered, those two get along pretty well,” Forge said.

“For the better, I suppose,” Junil replied. “I never expected Sollar to forgive Ronn so quickly.”

“I don’t think it’s surprising. She’s simple-minded.”

“Or enlightened. Only the really dumb or really smart forgive the worst transgressions.”

Forge shook his head. “I’d laugh at that, but it wasn’t me who duped the Hero four times in a row.”

Junil sighed. She then peered around the room, at the experiment scattered across the table. She took a look at the five dead potted plants, and made up her mind.

“Forge, get the rags. We’re gonna start cleaning this up.”

“What?”

“You’re the one that suggested we stop the experiment.”

Now it was Forge’s turn to gaze at the half-completed experiment before them.

“I don’t think we even should’ve started it in the first place.”

“Yeah. You should’ve said so earlier. Now grab the rags, this mess isn’t gonna clean itself.”

 

. . . . .

 

Former Demonfolk General Seis sat in her office. Through spectacled eyes, she looked down at the instruction manual in her hands, before looking back up at the newly-purchased typewriter on her desk. She furrowed her eyebrows as she glanced between the expensive piece of equipment and the booklet.

She was about to press a key, but hesitated. Again she was about to press one, but stopped. What if she had set it up incorrectly and would break it if she typed anything out?

As if on cue, the door to her office swung open.

“Say-say!”

A very familiar voice shouted from the door, and bounding in was a Demonfolk girl. Although she looked rather different, she still had the same tone of voice and intonation that was very familiar to the former General.

“Hi, Sollar sweetie,” Seis said. “If you are here, I am guessing that Ronn is here, too?”

“You would be right,” the Hero replied, ducking his head through the rather short door frame. “Miss Sollar, please slow down. I am unable to keep up with you at times.”

“Ronn-ar is slow!” Sollar exclaimed.

“I am capable of traveling at speeds to catch up with you,” Ronn refuted. “However, I do have to mind other individuals on the streets, due to my stature. Please do stay with me whenever we travel, Sollar.”

Sollar lowered her head a bit, as a response to his changing tone of voice.

“Is it a bad thing?” she asked, slightly sullen.

“It is not. You have lots of energy and enthusiasm. However, I am required to keep you safe, and I cannot do that if you stray too far.”

Ronn raised an armored glove to pat Sollar on the head, but stopped when he realized that her horns would get in the way.

“Speaking of,” Seis said. “What are you doing here?”

“Sollar wished to see you,” Ronn started. “Earlier, we had gone to Junil to have Sollar’s pendant fine-tuned. It was faintly flickering. I did not wish to take the risk.”

“That sounds like it could be trouble,” Seis replied. “If you ever need me to, I can take a look at it, since magic is also my specialty.”

“I apologize,” Ronn replied. “The magic belongs to Fraul, and I am not allowed to allow an examination of it by anyone outside the Hero party without her permission.”

“That is fair. You’ve got your secrets after all.”

Sollar stepped up to Seis’ desk, and scanned her eyes upon the items on top. The moment her gaze landed on the typewriter, she pointed her finger at it and asked, “Say-say, what is this?”

“It’s what the Humans call a typewriter,” Seis replied. “Supposedly, it is faster than writing.”

“A typewriter?” Ronn asked. He leaned over to peer at it, too. “I have heard of them before. You can indeed put very legible script on paper very quickly with that.”

“That is what I am trying to do right now,” Seis replied. She then peered up at the Hero. “Do you happen to know how to use this?”

“I do not. I still hand-write the majority of my documents.”

“I thought you’d have the best of the best.”

“I typically do. However, a typewriter is far too cumbersome to carry around.”

“True. I’m still trying to figure out how this works. I prepared a sheet of paper and filled the device with ink, but the instructions do not tell me how to proceed.”

Sollar, in the meanwhile, had been examining the typewriter. She raised a finger over the keyboard, her eyes scanning over the enticing keys and letters. Seis noticed her eyeing the device.

“Sollar, hold on for a moment...” the Demonfolk woman warned.

The Demonfolk girl did not stop, and pressed a single key on the keypad. Immediately, a mechanical arm of the device emerged from a gap near the top, impacting the sheet of paper for a fraction of a second, before retreating back down into the typewriter.

Seis had been about to raise a hand to stop Sollar, but she froze upon seeing the device work.

“It’s that simple?” Seis asked. She flipped open the manual booklet again, peering through her glasses to skim through some pages.

“It appears so,” Ronn replied.

Slapping the booklet closed, Seis sighed. “Guess so. I was worrying over nothing. Thank you for confirming that, Sollar.”

Sollar merely gave Seis a confused glance. She then shifted her gaze over the typewriter again, before losing interest in it.

“Ronn-ar, when are we going to see Luth-ar?” Sollar asked.

“We can leave now,” Ronn replied. “Just ensure you say goodbye to Miss Seis here.”

Sollar waved an arm up. “Bye, Say-say! I will be going to Luth-ar now!”

Almost instantly, Sollar shot out of the room. Ronn had still been holding the door open and merely stared out the door in surprise.

“Sollar!” he exclaimed. “Remember, do not go so far!”

Ronn then looked back at Seis. “I hope we were not too much trouble.”

“You weren’t,” Seis replied. “And ‘miss’? You’re making me feel young again.”

“I refer to others according to formal title or marital status,” Ronn replied. “As I am aware, you are yet unmarried?”

“Ouch. But true.”

Ronn took a step out of the room. “I must depart now, Sollar has a ten-second lead on me yet again. Do take care.”

“You too.”

“And good luck with the typewriter.”

“Thanks.”

The door closed behind the Hero.

Seis then looked back up at the typewriter and tapped a few letters herself. Each tap was accompanied by a satisfying click, before she neared the end of the sheet of paper. A loud ringing noise startled her slightly; she figured that was the signal to stop.

“Now what do I do?” Seis asked. She looked down at the instruction manual in her hands, scanned a few lines, then looked back up at the typewriter.

She pressed the enter key, and pushed the paper carriage all the way back so that she started a new line.

“Humans truly are innovative,” the Demonfolk woman said.

 

. . . . .

 

Skarrol hammered some metal nails into a wooden plank, then paused to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

“Phew... hard work,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t forget this, Skarrol, it’ll all be worth it in the end...”

“What are you doing?” came a bright, cheery voice.

Skarrol almost jumped out of his own skin, startled by Sollar’s voice coming seemingly out of nowhere from behind him.

“Oh! It’s just you!” Skarrol exclaimed. The ruffled feathers on his wings and back began to relax as he calmed down. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see Luthar!” she exclaimed.

Skarrol shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Of course, what other reason would you be here? He’s where you’d usually see him. Oh, and here’s the keys, too.”

The half-Harpy held up the set of keys to the cell, which Sollar snatched up. She immediately turned to scurry away, but stopped and looked back with a smile.

“Thanks, Skarr-ar!”

Just as her tail disappeared around the corner of the door frame, the Hero himself showed up to peer through the door.

“Sollar is an exhausting young lady to follow,” he said. “She has refused to heed my warnings to not go so far ahead two times so far.”

He then turned his head to look at the half-Harpy.

“How have you been, Skarrol?”

“Hard at work, as always,” the half-Harpy replied. “Still building my flying machine.”

“It appears to be coming along nicely.”

Skarrol turned to his flying machine.

“Yep. Just need to work out the magical theories and all that to make it actually fly, though. That’s a headache, even though I’m smart and all.”

He then turned back to Ronn. “And it seems you’re also having trouble with Sollar, too? How’s that little ball of energy?”

“Not trouble as much as over-enthusiasm on her part,” Ronn replied. “But I do have my share of experience in that before.”

The half-Harpy flicked some of his feathers. “Really? From where?”

“You.”

Skarrol recoiled, in an almost faux-recoil. “I wasn’t that bad, was I? And when did you learn to banter?”

“Your current probation within the Palace Spire speaks otherwise,” Ronn replied. “Regardless, I must tend to Sollar.”

Ronn was about to step past the door too, before stopping and saying, “Oh, and I’m also very much smiling right now. Banter certainly is fun.”

“You’re still wearing your helmet,” Skarrol pointed out.

Without another word, Ronn walked past the door. Skarrol grumbled.

“That man is going to age himself to death trying to take care of that girl.”

 

. . . . .

 

Once Ronn had caught up with Sollar yet again, he could see that the cell door stood ajar, with the keys still in the lock.

In hindsight, teaching Sollar how to operate a lock was probably not the best of ideas.

Peering through the metal bars of the prison, the Hero could see Sollar hopping up and down while grabbing ahold of one of Luth’s hands, chattering excitedly while the former Demon Lord tried to get her to slow down.

“Whoa, whoa, Sollar! How’d you get here? Is Ronn with you?” he asked. His question was answered immediately when he flickered his gaze up and met eyes with Ronn.

The Hero stepped to the side and pushed the prison door open fully, to allow him to squeeze through the door. After doing so, he did a quick examination of the cell to ensure that nothing was out of place.

A few changes had been made after the agreement between Luth and Ronn. Luth’s shackles had been redesigned to be far more reasonable and accommodating. The bands of metal around his neck and waist were done away with entirely. Gone, too, were the ankle cuffs. All that remained were the shackles around his wrists, which were not attached to each other, but instead chained to the wall with a rather long pair of chains.

In other words, he now had the freedom to move wherever he wanted within the confines of the cell, compared to how restricted he had been prior.

Luth now was also getting properly fed. He could see a small stack of empty plates along with a half-filled glass of water off to the side, on the same bench that Luth was sitting on.

“Greetings, Ronn,” Luth said. “I can only presume that Sollar here outpaced you again?”

“She has, indeed. Despite repeated warnings.”

Luth sighed. He then gazed at Sollar, who shrunk down a little when he spoke — “Sollar, make sure you don’t get too far ahead of Ronn. He needs to be close to protect you. Okay?”

“...Okay,” Sollar muttered.

Luth continued. “Besides, he’s old. If you force him to run too fast, he might pull a muscle.”

“I am not that old yet,” Ronn replied. “I like to believe that I am rather healthy. And I likely have around twenty years of fitness left in me.”

“Twenty?” Luth exclaimed. “You’re either vastly overestimating yourself or you’re the most impressive Human I’ve ever met. And considering you’re the Hero, it’s more leaning towards the latter.”

“Flattering,” came the Hero’s reply.

As Luth rubbed a hand through Sollar’s disguised hair, he glanced over at Ronn.

“Ronn, I can only guess you want to ask something of me?” he asked.

“How could you tell?”

“Most of the time you usually stay out of the cell when Sollar’s visiting me, and the few times you haven’t and stepped inside were times when you were asking me important questions.”

“Observant of you,” Ronn responded, almost immediately. “Your intuition is right; I wish for information on one of your former subordinates.”

Luth glanced back at Sollar, then fixed his gaze on Ronn.

“Sure? I don’t know every single person under me, but if I recognize the name, I’ll tell you what I know.”

“It regards one of your former Generals, namely, General Brington. Are you aware of him?”

“Brington?” Luth asked. “I should’ve expected, he’s the only General you haven’t found yet... Yes, I know him. He’s one of the older Generals, up there with Seis. What do you need to know?”

“His whereabouts. Would you happen to know where General Brington might be post-war?”

Luth paused. He turned his head up and closed his eyes, as if needing to think about that question.

“Brington dated back to when my father was still in power,” Luth replied. “Which was a while ago. He was appointed before my time. I don’t know him all that well, I have to admit— Ow, Sollar, don’t pull on my horns, please.”

Ronn watched the two, amused by the Demonfolk girl’s antics.

“You know little of Brington?”

“Compared to the other Generals? It’s almost nothing. Forge, Seis, and Riall were all appointed under me. Not Brington, though.”

“You do not trust him?”

“No, I do, your questions just made me realize... how little of him I actually do know.”

“This is worrisome.”

“One thing that I know for sure is that he’s an intelligent man. That likely means he’ll be standing down. Always saw him as a more relaxed individual, so he’s probably enjoying his time off at one of his personal remote island getaways.”

“You believe he will be of little issue?” Ronn confirmed.

“I never said that,” Luth replied. He was rubbing his hand through Sollar’s hair. “Just that he’s probably keeping to himself. Just as long as you don’t go look for him, I suppose.”

Ronn nodded. “I see. Thank you for your advice.”

The Hero stepped away to exit the cell, to allow the two siblings to have some time to themselves, but then Luth snapped his fingers to get his attention, before saying something.

“Hey. I’m still indebted to you for your help with Sollar. If you ever need my advice with anything, you can always consult me.”

Luth then smirked. “I even heard General Riall is having some trouble with managing the reorganized Demonfolk territories, so if you need me to help manage a few things in lieu of her...”

“Your assistance is appreciated. However, I do believe the leaders of the Human nations would greatly object to putting you in any position of power,” Ronn stated, matter-of-factly.

“Drat, thought that would work.”

This time, it was Ronn’s turn to give a slight chuckle. “I never said that doing so would be impossible, Luth. Have a nice day.”

The Hero turned away, leaving a bemused Luth in his wake.

The former Demon Lord sat there, his mind befuddled, before his cheek was tapped by Sollar.

“Luth-ar, are you awake?” she asked. “Sleeping with open eyes?”

“What? Oh, no I’m just thinking,” he replied. He pulled his sister into an embrace, as the chains around his wrists rattled. “Glad to see you’re getting along with the Hero.”

“He’s nice!” Sollar exclaimed. “He still chases me though, but only because I go too fast.”

“How about the others? Seis, Junil, Forge, everyone else? Are they doing fine, too?”

The Demonfolk girl nodded. “Yes! Forr-ar and Jun-ar is doing tricky stuff with magic potion bottles and colored water experiments. Say-say has a metal clicking thing that does stuff, and Skarr-ar is still making his thing that can fly!”

Luth knew that all of them were doing fine and also had a general idea on their respective projects at hand, but he certainly liked hearing it from Sollar’s perspective. “That’s great. Wait, you said Seis has a metal clicky... thing?”

“Yes!” Sollar replied. “It has a lot of these round metal bits that you push on, and when you do this little other...”

Having difficulty finding the right word, the Demonfolk girl moved her hands in an arching motion, to try to convey the message.

“These little things move and hit paper. And it puts marks on the paper! But Sollar can’t read it.”

“Marks on paper?” Luth asked. “What is this device called?”

“A writetyper! I think that’s what Seis called it.”

Luth smiled. He knew what a typewriter was; Skarrol had talked about it with him before. It was nice to see that his former subordinates were branching off to use new technology.

On that note, however, the former Demon Lord had also been confronted with an old mistake that he had to contend with.

“Sollar. Do you want to learn how to read?”

The Demonfolk girl paused, to think about it. Then, her face broke out in a grin and she nodded. “Read? Yes! I wanna know what the word letters say!”

“That sounds great. I’ll talk with Ronn later to get you a tutor. But we can start with something simple right here. Maybe your name.”

Luth waved a hand in the air. Although he wasn’t able to cast powerful magic due to the restrictions put upon his restraints, he had been allowed to use some lighter spells to improve his quality of life.

Being able to cast light drowsiness spells on himself again was a blessing.

He also had the ability to write in midair. As his fingers danced around, they left behind glowing orange lines that, when finished, spelled out a particular name.

“Here’s your name and how it’s spelled. Sollar. Now, the first letter of your name is an S. It makes the ‘sss’ sound...”