The next morning when Damon woke up the sun had reached halfway up its zenith. With his star reading skill, he could tell the time of day and night at a glance, “nine thirty,” he muttered. He still had some time before the start of his lesson. If he ran, he could probably speak to the butler before then.

Damon ran to the mansion. He flashed his seal and entered the estate. At the main door to the mansion, two soldiers in leather armour stood guard. No doubt the sun would roast them alive if they were wrapped in metal.

“I must speak to the head butler. It’s urgent,” said Damon.

“What happened? Were you attacked?” Asked the guard in panic, leaning forward to better hear him.

“Yes exactly…” I answered surprised it was this easy. That’s when the guard smiled. Damon had a bad feeling.

“Did I waste a night for no reason?” Damon rubbed his forehead to deal with his hangover.

The guard shrugged, “I don’t know, it seems urgent so you should report it.”

A maid guided Damon to a reception room. He sat down and bit down on a stale cracker. He wasn’t too pleased with what occurred last night. Now it was time to see if nobles knew the word sorry. Probably not.

A few minutes later the duke, the great man himself came in with the lady who scared him shitless last night. And, although he wasn’t in a good mood, Damon still got up and gave a slight bow to the guy who paid him ten gold coins a month.

The two nobles didn’t bow nor nod in acknowledgment and the three of them stood there without a word. Damon got the message and sat down. The lady did the same on the opposite two-seater sofa. The second seat being taken by her father, the duke.

“This is my daughter Andrea, she’s the one who will accompany you with some of her men to go hunting with Fergulio in a week.”

So, ignoring is the answer. Thought, Damon.  “Thank you, this will be a decisive factor in your son’s growth.”

“Yes, it should,” answered the duke.

Damon didn’t know how to interact with this man. His cold demeanour confused Damon, but that was of little concern since the duke stood up and left the room soon after his statement. Now Damon was confronted with Andrea. As such he decided to walk away but not without forgetting common courtesy. “Goodbye my lady, I will have the pleasure of meeting you once again in a week’s time.”

“So cold,” said Andrea.

These nobles speak like commoners. Perhaps they’ve lost their dignity when they were defeated by the horde. Can’t she at least shut up if she can’t say sorry? Or is this the result of knight training? Perhaps the rich aristocrats fit their title better. “I’m sorry, I won’t be cold anymore,” answered Damon.

“Ah c’mon, are all elvish nobles like this.”

Damon stopped walking. He wanted to undo his transformation and attack her. He wasn’t an elf, nor did he think humans had any right to speak ill about more than a common goblin. On that subject he should also try to communicate with a goblin shaman eventually.

After resisting the urge to attack her, he walked away without uttering a word. Thankfully for Andrea she seemed to catch the hint and stayed quiet. Damon walked away, that’s when he caught a glimpse of light reflecting off a black thread hanging in the air. He carefully adjusted his clothes and caught the filament. This would be it, but it wasn’t to be used today, nor tomorrow. The lady falling ill a day after their meeting would be too suspicious. Plus, Stolas had designated her as his seduction and later enslavement target. This little filament would make for a wonderful piece of the puzzle.

Damon went to teach Fergulio black magic and promptly left the mansion. He decided to go stroll the city and find a place to get a drink.

#

After a few drinks in an empty tavern, he started to think. This whole thing doesn’t make sense. She knows that I’m a black mage who works for another sect. As such she should want to get rid of me. Perhaps she did try to kill me that night and is now playing it off as a joke, and she doesn’t seem to be a black mage, just someone in contact with another sect. She might not have any loyalty towards them. But I also must understand that not all humans are like those two. Perhaps I’ve been hunkered up alone for too long as the bartender told me last night.

#

“Fergulio, what do you think of angels?” asked Damon.

Fergulio continued to extract the blood from a goblin’s body. “They are holy beings help mankind stay on the right path. Why do you ask?”

“What do you think of Demons?”

“You didn’t tell me why you asked.”

Damon sighed, the kid kept some of his arrogant and authoritative habits. “You’ll know after. Now tell me, what you think of demons. What you really, truly think of them.”

“They lead humans into debauchery and a vile path.”

Damon shook his head. “Well, you’re wrong. Angels couldn’t care less for humans. Angels are the ones tasked to find demons and kill them. And this task in not ordained by God or deities, but by themselves. And Demons are not the one’s who lead humans astray, but the embodiment of human desires and freedom. If humans are free, then why can they not choose the path they wish to follow? Angels have simply convinced you that your freedom extends only to where their start.”

“What do you mean by ‘‘your’’? You might not be human; however, you are still a humanoid being, no?”

Damon didn’t know when he started to see himself as something different; however, he’d have to keep his words in check. “You’re being too nitpicky. The point is that you are denying what God gave you. Do you not have black magic as a skill? If he decided that it wasn’t a proper path for humans, then he wouldn’t have given it to you. Fergulio, Angels aren’t gods, only the one who gave you your skills can be called as such.”

“But there are many gods,” said Fergulio. “This may be the works of an evil one.”

Damon shook his head, “there is an even greater God which controls all others. You don’t need to believe me. Even if there is an evil god, what makes him evil? How can a mortal claim to understand its nature and if all gods are equal, which one would have the right to label others? Every which way you turn and search for an answer you’ll find that the trails lead you to a single being. The one and true God. Angels are equal to demons under God. They are not ones to label them. Are they not the evil ones for stripping humans of independent thoughts and decision-making? Do you not think that you should be allowed to think for yourself? If you want, I can show what angels call evil spirits, and you can decide on your own if it is evil or not.”

Fergulio still wasn’t certain. However he nodded.

Damon took the blood Fergulio had just extracted and poured it in a zig-zag pattern. He took some organs from glass jars and placed them over the blood and let the mana flow through the formation.

A black distortion appeared in the area above the blood.

“This is a distortion dark spirit. It uses distortions to hide items in plain sight. Even now you can see that it’s trying to identify what to distort?”

Fergulio nodded.

“Is it not the same as beasts? It can barely control itself, so why do we call them evil and not beasts? Can wolves not kill humans, can water not drown cities, and can fires not ravage a kingdom? Yet we never call those evil. Look, you can now use these dark spirits for good. To show you are more than a potential tool for your siblings. To express your own individuality and to illustrate how humans can be good without the so-called guidance of angels.

“Is this really a dark spirit?” Fergulio tried to reach out to touch it; however, Damon held him back.

“First tell me your dark spirit communication potential?”

Fergulio looked at Damon in surprise. Skills were closely guarded secrets and should never be exposed even to your own family.

“Don’t look at me like that. If you can see it, it means you have the skill. Now tell me, what level?

“Three.” Answered Fergulio.

Damon nodded, it seemed that your black magic level didn’t translate to dark spirit communication, however, to have dark spirit communication, black magic was a prerequisite. “If you touch the spirit, it will become your familiar.”

Fergulio hesitated, but Damon continued,

“But you will be able to understand its nature.”

Fergulio decided to touch it. Damon saw the spirit take a more distinct form, that of a raven and it entered Fergulio’s body.

“It’s warm,” said Fergulio as he touched his hand.

“That’s because, as I said, dark spirit embodies human desires, and desires aren’t good, nor bad, simply pleasurable.” This was complete bullshit; I have no clue why it’s warm. It might just be the feeling of external mana entering the body or this specific dark spirit. Afterall, running blood was warm.

“I understand,” said Fergulio. He gave a slight bow towards Damon, and soon his body distorted and warped. The extremities of his body were no longer clearly defined.

“You’re giving me a headache,” said Damon.

Fergulio laughed, “so it works. This is great.”

“Just don’t do it outside, if a priest sees you, he won’t hold back, use it as a last resort.”

The next second a crow popped up on his shoulders.

“What did I say, hide the crow? And don’t use your powers.”

The crow disappeared. “Can I see your dark spirits?” asked Fergulio, in great excitement.

Damon waved it off, “As if I would show you my magic level and skills. Now go, leave, your lesson is over.”

Damon sat down on his chair and looked up at the ceiling. He waited there until the sun set and at night he went up to the cellar and let all his dark spirits out. A snake, a spider and a centipede moved around on the floor. He then transformed into his true form, laid on his stomach, wings sprawled out, and watched the spirits crawl on his feathery wings.