“Feeble mortals of Goezia, behold the divine! I am Raydra, God of Life, and by My blessing you shall heal the sick, mend the wounded and drive away all disease. Mine is the Teal Moon, and Mine is the art of healing magic. Kneel before Me, and your lives shall be filled with succor and joy.”

--1st Revelation of Raydra, Chapter 1, Verses 1-4

The High Breeder’s fist flew towards my face so quickly, I barely had time to flinch before I felt a searing pain tear through my cheek. The room spun around, the ground rushed up to meet me, and I heard a sickening crack as my nose shattered.

As I lay there, crumpled up like a piece of wet tissue paper and blood dripping from my nostrils, I desperately bit my lip. I felt my eyes grow moist but willed my tears to hold back. I would never let him see me cry.

That would only give him greater satisfaction.

“Stand up, you miserable little Priest,” he growled at me, his voice echoing off the featureless teal walls. Holding my hand to my nose didn’t do much to stem the bleeding, but I did it regardless as I slowly, shakily rose to my feet. Stars danced in the fringes of my vision.

“Hmph,” the High Breeder said, clearly angered by my lack of a reaction. “You don’t seem too distraught. Do you truly understand the scope of your crime?”

I kept my silence.

“You offered healing magic to the rabble, free of charge!” he spat, nearly choking on each word. “And in doing so went behind my back, behind the Church’s back! All healing must only be conducted here, in our Creation Hall by our licensed priests or Breeders, NOT in unlicensed clinics in the slums! To do otherwise is unthinkable! This is a business we’re running here, not a gods-damned charity!”

Not a peep out of me.

“Do you understand how expensive it is to run this Creation Hall? The only Creation Hall in Mesonida, I might add? Without our blessed presence to spread Raydra’s light in this sinful town, the people would be lost! And you jeopardize that by offering healing for free?!”

Our finances would be in a lot better shape if you stopped spending so much on luxuries for yourself, is what I wanted to say. I cast a glance at his ostentatious white robes, lined with plush teal on the insides and trimmed in gold leaf, and decided against it. Instead, I remained taciturn.

“Well? Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” he blustered, spittle flying from his lips. “Answer me!”

I clasped my hands behind my back; my aching nose still dripped blood down on the front of my own plain blue robes. “3rd Revelation 4:14-16.”

His anger was overwhelmed by incredulity for a moment. “What?”

“3rd Revelation of Raydra, Chapter 4, Verses 14 thru 16. I’m sure you know the passage. Raydra tells us that we should never deny succor to the poor or wanting. My clinic’s sole purpose was to honor His words.”

The High Breeder’s face grew red with rage. “You presume to quote scripture at me?”

“I would never presume,” I replied calmly. “And I fail to see why citing the words of our God should cause any offense.”

The High Breeder swung his other fist at my face; this time, I rolled with the punch and stayed on my feet, albeit staggered. He huffed and puffed angrily as he screamed at me.

“Listen up, Vraiden, because I’m only going to say this ONCE! I am the High Breeder of this Creation Hall, and I am Raydra’s chosen in this town! The God of Life speaks ONLY through me! My interpretation of the scriptures is always the truth, and if you think to challenge me with your own flawed reading, you are committing heresy! Are you a heretic, Vraiden? Are you a FILTHY SINNER?”

“Surely not,” I responded in a carefully measured tone.

He snorted. “Then NEVER challenge me again. If you ever want to graduate from the lowly rank of Priest to full-fledged Breeder, you will keep your mouth shut and follow my orders. Do you understand?”

I ground my teeth together before answering. “Your message has been received.”

“Good.” With a quick spin that caused his robes to flare a bit, the High Breeder turned and stormed out of the room. A moment later, with the adrenaline of the confrontation rapidly evaporating, I sank to my knees, stared at the pool of my own blood on the floor, and finally allowed myself to cry.

******

“You shall never deny comfort, nor succor or balm, to a soul in need. As you aid the poorest among you, so shall My divine grace be proclaimed. Those who turn their backs upon the hurting shall have no place in My kingdom, and though they may proclaim works in My name, I shall look upon them as all unrepentant sinners, no better than demons.”

--3rd Revelation of Raydra, Chapter 4, Verses 14-16

I don’t know how long I sat there, tears flowing from choking sobs, but I was pulled back into reality by the warm sensation of a pair of arms snaking slowly around me. A moment later, I felt the tingling glow of healing magic pour into my body. My eyes focused and I saw a hand in front of my face, radiating teal mana. The pain in my nose disappeared as my bones and cartilage knit back together.

“Thank you, Ayem,” I murmured as I leaned into my friend’s embrace.

“Of course, Versyn,” he whispered back.

Upon hearing that name, I felt a metaphysical warmth wash through my soul. To the High Breeder, to the other members of the clergy and to the public at large, I was simply Vraiden, a young and petulant priest-in-training. But to my dear friend Ayem, my only kindred spirit in this gods-forsaken place, I was Versyn; unlike my legal name, that was a name I actually liked being called. As for my reasons, well…

The two of us shared a secret. A scandalous secret, one that would see us expelled from the Church were it ever discovered. For that reason, we held each other’s confidence closely, and forged a deep bond of friendship.

I looked over to my beloved friend, drank him in for a moment. He was gangly, skin stretched over bones, and his robe hung off him as if he were a coat rack. His long, unkempt black hair surrounded his face, obscuring much of it from view, but his brilliant green eyes shone through like emeralds shrouded in a moonless night.

“Why did you do it?” Ayem’s tone of voice was a whisper. He always seemed to shrink back from conversation like a frightened animal, and I always treated him as gently as I could for fear of breaking something fragile and irreplaceable. I was rewarded as the only human alive to ever see his depths, his true beauty; most others saw only the surface details, content to ignore him because of his awkward body and shy disposition.

“Do what? Start the free clinic?” I asked gingerly.

He shook his head. “No. Why did you challenge the High Breeder like that? It would have been easy to claim ignorance, or simply apologize.”

Ayem always shied away from confrontation. He was content to go largely unnoticed by the world, a ghost on the fringes of perception. He often pleaded with me to do the same.

“People are hurting out there, Ayem,” I replied. “The rates charged by the Creation Halls for healing are so exorbitant, many are forced to forgo necessary, even life-saving treatment. I can’t stand idly by and let that happen!”

He rested his head on my shoulder, and I felt him sigh. “You’re right, but… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.” His voice caught, full of pain. “It doesn’t have to be you, Versyn. You don’t have to bear this burden alone. Other people can help.”

“Other people do,” I responded firmly, “but if I turn a blind eye to their suffering, for my own convenience, that makes me little better than the High Breeder.”

Ayem fixed his brilliantly green eyes on me, and I saw a bit of fire in them. “That’s not true,” he whispered furiously. “You’ll never be like that monster.”

“Okay, maybe that was hyperbolic. Still, I can’t ignore those in need. Those people need healing, and one way or another I will heal them. Our God demands no less.”

There was a silence, the only sound our soft breathing. Ayem said at last, “I know I can’t stop you. But please, be careful, for my sake if nothing else.”

“I will,” I promised.

His eyes dropped to the floor, and his voice quivered slightly. “And when you get hurt again… I’ll be there. To pick you up, to heal you, to always be there for you. I couldn’t bear to lose you, Versyn.”

I felt butterflies in my stomach; that was as close to a declaration of love as he could get without violating certain taboos. As much as we both wanted to… we couldn’t. Not as Priests. It was forbidden.

“I… I have to do this,” I told Ayem solemnly. “But I will be careful, because I always want to be there for you too.”

We touched foreheads and sat there in silence for a while.

******

“There are ailments beyond simply those of the flesh. Ailments of the mind and soul are insidious and cannot be cured by healing magic alone. Should you find yourself or another suffering thusly, focus your attention upon your God and speak your prayers. I shall purge from you self-doubt, depression, listlessness and confusion. By your faith in Me, you shall be healed.”

-83rdth Revelation of Raydra, Chapter 62, Verses 1-5

I looked fondly upon Ayem’s sleeping form as his chest rose and fell, his breathing barely audible. The scaredy-cat always took the bottom bunk, due to his dislike of ladders. I didn’t mind indulging him.

After a timeless interval, I tore my eyes from my friend and padded over to the small altar in the corner of the room. Idolatrous depictions of the Gods were forbidden, at least in Saimonica, so the altar held a simple carving of the Eleven-Spoked Moon, symbol of the Gods and Church alike. Unlike the lavish gemstone-adorned broach which decorated the cloaks of High Breeders, the symbol on my altar was simple ashwood with dabs of paint. I focused my gaze on the teal orb in the upper left corner, representing Raydra, and meditated on it for a few moments before closing my eyes.

“Raydra…” I murmured softly. “Great God of Life. Please hear me.”

There was no response.

There was never a response. Unlike the blessed few High Breeders who had received revelations from Raydra directly, I’d never heard the voice of the God to which I’d devoted my life. Somehow, this felt like a slight. Why wouldn’t Raydra speak to one lonely believer having a crisis of faith?

Was I really so unimportant?

“Raydra, please…” I pleaded. “I don’t know what to do. I… I can’t… keep doing this…” My vision began to swim. “I want to help people, but every time I try, I… I… I get hurt, or yelled at, or…” I paused as my voice began to waver, and I felt my eyes moisten.

“Raydra can’t come to the phone right now. Would you like to talk with another God?”

The feminine voice rang out in my head so clearly that I fell backwards in shock, landing rather painfully on my butt. I glanced over to Ayem, who fortunately was still asleep. I peered around the room for the source of the voice, only to be greeted by darkness.

“What?” I whispered back.

“Raydra can’t come to the phone right now,” the voice repeated. “Would you l-“

“What’s a ‘phone?’” I interrupted.

“Oh, you haven’t invented those yet,” the voice responded, sounding a bit miffed. “I’m earlier on the timeline than I thought. Oh well, I’ll just appreciate the joke for the two of us. Hahahahaha! Good one, me!”

This was getting frustrating. Was someone playing a prank on me with a covert bit of psychic magic? I wasn’t in a good headspace for any tricks at my expense. “What are you even talking about?” I pressed, my voice rising in anger.

“Oh, come now. Don’t be angry. After all, I’m here to help you.”

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Who are you?”

“Just a helpful Goddess who heard your desperate prayer and decided to answer in lieu of your absentee God, Raydra.”

“God… dess?” I asked incredulously. “There are no women among the Thirteen Gods.”

Her voice grew sardonic. “Indeed not. I’m not one of the Thirteen. I’m beyond them.”

I shook my head. “That’s not possible. There are no Gods beyond the Thirteen. You must be a false god, or a…” My voice trailed off, unwilling to speak the final word for fear of incurring taboo.

“Demon?” She finished my sentence for me.

I nodded silently.

“So what if I am? You were hurting, and I answered. Isn’t a Goddess who responds to your pleas much better than a God who ignores you entirely?”

I folded my arms and glared at the altar, which was the only thing in the room it seemed appropriate to glare at. “Demons and their god are nothing more than a temptation to sin and eternal damnation.”

“Oh my, how dramatic!” she said with flourish. “Not to mention outright false. We can discuss the fate of your immortal soul later, but for now I ask you this: how can you claim the moral superiority of Raydra when the mortal representatives he endorses, those egotistical High Breeders, won’t even let you heal the poor?”

“That’s…” I started to respond, before realizing I had no answer to that.

“You see? There is no good answer to that question. Your much-vaunted Church is more concerned with wealth and power than truly performing good works, and your much-vaunted Thirteen Gods are content to sit back and let that injustice continue. It would seem the Thirteen are the immoral ones, not me.”

The mysterious Goddess’ words lanced me, straight through the gaping wound in my heart already opened by my crisis of faith. “That’s not… I… I can’t…”

“Shh, no need to answer me now. I’ll give you time to internalize this. In the meantime…” There was a dramatic pause, and I realized I was holding my breath as I waited for her to speak again. “Would you like to know more?”

Here it was. If I said no to this question she’d likely seek some other target for her evil ministrations, and I’d have successfully resisted temptation at the cost of leaving my burning questions unanswered and my crisis of faith unresolved. But if I said yes, if I pursued the answers she offered, I might risk damnation and demonic corruption. Was it worth it? Could I continue to operate solely on faith, or did my inquiring mind demand more?

“…I would.”

She laughed heartily. “Very well! Keep your eyes peeled, young Versyn. Tomorrow you will receive a mysterious book. Read it with an open mind. Oh, and there will be a little something extra as well; don’t panic when you meet them. We’ll talk again soon, dear Priestess!”

I felt tingles shoot through me at that last word, but I managed to squeak out a question regardless. “W-Wait. How did y-you know my name was Versyn?”

But there was no answer. The mysterious Goddess, for the moment, was gone.

pynkbites

Hello, dear readers, and welcome to the second part of The Demonic Guide to Self-Improvement! I originally planned for this part to be around 2500 words, but in the course of writing it ballooned to four times that much!  For that reason, I've split it into four parts which will be published over the course of a week. Part Two goes live on Monday, late afternoon Pacific time, so keep your eyes open!

This is also the point at which this story begins to cross over more heavily with Lesbian Demon Lord. Sharp-eyed readers noticed connections in the last part, namely the town of Lyzikanth where the action takes place... and further connections will become apparent soon. If you're not caught up on LDL, I recommend reading the latest chapters!

And if you enjoy my writing, why not come join my Discord server?