It wandered the streets in a daze, the world around it a blurry mess of sounds and colors. Traveling between worlds often had an intoxicating effect on it, this time being no different. Still as it began to slowly gain consciousness in this brand-new world, it felt a sense of relief believing this time it found a stable world. Once it walked in barren deserts, under a scorching sun and the ever-present sight of the malice in the sky overhead, now it walked through a wet and rainy urban environment. Dark storm clouds were a welcome sight to it, they were far more inviting than the swirling chaos of malice. This was not Eforde, nor was it Arium, Masgail, or any of the worlds it had been to before. Perhaps there was no malice to be found here at all. Perhaps this world was a utopia of peace and love. It was hard to tell, as the little wanderer was still gaining a sense of awareness in its new surroundings.

 

Soon enough blobs of color took a more concrete shape as its eye adjusted to the sights of the world. Grays, reds, browns and blacks became brick and mortar buildings, concrete roads, and paved walkways. The most welcome sight of all, after years in the desert wastes of Eforde, was the lush green trees found within planters along the sidewalks. Oh how it had missed greenery, more so than it missed rain and perhaps just as much as it had missed indoor plumbing. Something resembling a smile spread across its half missing face, hidden behind bandages it wore wrapped around its head. This world had everything Eforde seemed to be missing, that is all except one important thing, it’s friends. The life of the Dimensional Wanderer was an ever lonely one, but it had grown used to it. It worried for its friends back in Eforde, having not truly believed it’s work to be done there, but it had no choice but to leave. It never had a choice. It was not a dimensional traveler Afterall, but a wanderer, lost among the worlds but not without purpose. 

 

So then, what was its purpose here? That was the question on its mind as it slowly became more aware of its present location. As it had noted before, there was a distinct lack of Malice there. If there was no malice, then what was it to do in this world? The void was a strange and fickle thing, but it was also somewhat consistent. Every world the wanderer found itself in had one thing in common, that being the Malice. Though each world called it something else, and each world had a slightly different way to deal with it, still all worlds had it. What was different about this world? 

 

Lost, dazed, confused, it wanted to know more, but it found itself incomplete and unaware. So unaware, it had not noticed that it somehow wandered into a parking structure. 

“Oh,” it said with a small silent voice, “my eye is working again, that’s good,” it sighed a happy sigh and giggled. Stretching its body, it tried to get a good look at itself in the reflection of a car mirror. Two arms, two legs, well mostly. It seemed that parts of it were still lost to the void, but it was at least whole enough to function as a real person, even if it wasn’t a real person. 

“Vox, good prophet, have you woken up?” a voice spoke from a card concealed in the wanderer’s parka. 

“It would seem like I have,” it said with a grin, “I have to say, I’m surprised I can hear your voice though, friend, I thought only girls could hear Sophiea.” 

“You seem to be a very special case, little prophet, not being a man or woman,” the voice responded, “I'm more surprised about the form you’ve taken. You look younger and a little cuter too.”

It took a second look in the mirror, bending over to get a better look at their face. The familiar was right, it did in fact look younger than it had in the last world. Having a fake body came with odd side effects, though typically its presentation was consistent between each world. Odd or not, it decided it was happy with the change, something felt right about this new look. 

“Do everyone a favor and starve to death already, this world will be better off without you,” a roaring voice echoed from the floor beneath them, snapping the little prophets' focus away from its reflection. A dark malevolence radiated in the man's voice, something the wanderer was all too familiar with. A pounding sensation reverberated against its hip from a small pouch it wore on its belt, confirming what it began to fear.

“Malice,” it gritted its teeth while clenching its fists, “I guess I was wrong, even here we can’t escape it.” 

“So, little Voxie, what will we do?” the familiar asked it.

Feeling an answer was unnecessary, it began to follow the dark aura that collected in the air. Lead down one level, it found itself coming across a haggard old man, laughing maniacally as it staggered its way through the garage. As if in their own supernatural intoxicated stupor, the man paid no mind at first to the wanderer, instead repeating to itself, “filthy little demon boy, filthy filthy worthless filth,” its words beginning to slur more and more as it ruminated in its hatred. A trail of inky black shadows dripped from his feet like blood with each step he took. Malice blight, or at least something like it. Malice was not the same in every world, although it all came from the same source, the void, the very same void from which the wanderer itself was born. Still, no matter what form the Malice took, it knew that it could not allow such an evil to spread.

 

As the man walked closer, the wanderer stood resolute within his path, reaching its hand back to draw its sword from its side, only to see the sword was not there. Had it left it in Eforde? Had it gotten lost in the void? How could it be so careless as to lose something so precious to it? Sword or no sword, it knew it had a job to do. 

“You little demon, I thought I taught you your lesson!” the man howled once he noticed the thing in his way.

“Demon? Me?” it was confused, it may not have been human, but no one ever accused it of being a demon before.

“Filthy little creep, just die already, die in a gutter you living trash,” the wretched man continued to squawk, mistaking the wanderer for another. 

It shook its head and sighed, “I was hoping to stop the Malice from consuming you, but it looks like you’re already lost,” it shifted itself into an aggressive stance, ready to fight the monster that was forming before its eyes.

“Vox, cutie, use my power,” the familiar beseeched the wanderer.

“I’m not a girl, I can’t form a contract with you,” it reminded the spirit, “and besides, I have fought worse monsters than this.”

“But your sword!” she objected.

“Don’t need it!” 

While the two squabbled, the man began to perspire a black icky ooze, his eyes glazed over, and his speech became less coherent. Without warning he struck at Vox, the little wanderer only barely evading his attack. Leaping back, Vox nearly fell backwards as its left knee buckled. 

“I’m not used to this new body yet,” it growled, “guess this will be a little less fun than I thought.”

Barely recovered from the last attack, it found itself the target of a full-on assault from the man turned monster. He swung his arms violently, flailing while screaming incomprehensible slurs at the wanderer. Vox did all it could to avoid being struck, but its body was hardly able to obey its commands, and soon it found itself overwhelmed by a flurry of mindless blows. 

 

Battered, the little wanderer fell to the ground, tackled by the creature that could no longer be called a person, its eye staring back into the things now empty gaze.

“Call out my name, Voxie, let me help you!” the familiar begged Vox, “I don't care what you are, let me lend you my power, even temporarily.” 

Gritting its teeth as it held the monster back, it resigned itself and spoke the spirit's name, “Rayle, I accept your contract!” 

A brilliant flash of light emerged from the carta held within its parka, forcing the beast to recoil and allowing Vox to scramble to its feet. A woman with a single feathered wing, clothed in light, took form between the wanderer and the beast. Turning her face to Vox she flashed him a sly grin, then turned her gaze back to her opponent. The creatures gnashed its teeth and snarled, bewildered by the appearance of the angelic spirit that now faced it. The creature did not stay stunned for long, lunging at the woman as soon as it regained sight. She braced herself and shouted, “Shield of shining dawn!” A kite-shield of light formed on her arm with her command, blocking the monster's attack, sending the thing flying back into a wall. Not hesitating another second, she pursued the beast, crushing it into the wall with her shield. It howled in agony as she repeatedly bashed it with her improvised weapon, till at last the creature let out a death rattle, falling limp to the floor.    

 

“Well, that was brutal,” Vox said with a wince, “did you really have to go so hard Rayle?”

“If you knew my lover's name, then perhaps she could have killed the creature more elegantly,” she huffed, dissipating her magic shield, “besides, it would have killed you had I not killed it first, you know that.”

 

Vox nodded, still a little disturbed by the method the familiar chose, and cautiously approached the now lifeless fiend. Its body began to disintegrate, little black embers raising to the sky above. Nothing remained of the man that once was, fully consumed by the monstrous Malice, he was gone forever, lost to the void. A sick sad pit formed within Vox’s gut, no matter how many times it saw this happen, it never felt any less saddening. Malice was a nasty force, a nasty force that seemed ever present no matter where it went. It now truly knew, it would never escape the Malice. 

“If the Malice is here, then perhaps that means a fragment of the Goddess’ heart is also here?” Rayle suggested.

“It is possible, and if that is the case, then I know what I must do,” Vox turned away from the scene of the battle and began to make its way out of the parking structure as Rayle returned to her carta. 

As it emerged from the underground back to the dreary outdoors, it saw a small child limping past them. 

 

Their eyes met for only a moment, but it was enough to compel something deep inside Vox. She wore a filthy dress, tattered and stained, her skin equally covered in grime. Their passing was brief, but that sight stuck with Vox over the next couple of days, regretful it did not try to stop her from wandering away. It had no money and knew nothing of the world, but still it wished it could do something to help that sad little girl. Its thoughts were haunted by her, by that depressing little gleam in her pink and blue eyes. 

“Hey cutiepie, if you have the ides I could put a smile on that sad little face,” a sultry voice drew the attention of the little wanderers worried mind. A familiar sultry voice, a friendly sultry voice, an unmistakable one. While searching for the girl, it had wandered into a seedy part of the city, where a darkened girl with cat-like ears now beckoned it. 

“Kara?” Vox could not believe its eyes, the young girl that now spoke to it had an uncanny resemblance to its friend from Eforde. It of course could not be her, though for a moment it found itself fooled.

“Does my reputation precede me?” the girl asked with a flirtatious grin, “I suppose word is getting around then?”

Her name was Kara, but no, this wasn’t Kara. Not the Kara Vox had known. For one, her body was… different. Her hands were more beastlike than Karakahl of Eforde, and her ears were higher on her head. She also clearly had only a single pair of breasts, opposed to the six breasts that Ferael had in Eforde. Still, she was similar enough that seeing her filled Vox’s heart with a longing.

“So, have you come looking for a good time, or have you come looking for heat?” her question perplexed the wanderer. It was a bit nippy out, but surely not enough that someone would seek out a prostitute for heat, right?

“I’m looking for a little girl,” Vox answered, not considering the implications of its words.

“Oh my, I am sorry, but I cannot condone that sort of request,” she wrinkled her nose in disgust, “if that is the sort of boy you are then please find the nearest bridge and jump off it!”

Waving its hands frantically it clamored to save face, “No no no no no!” it cried, “I don’t mean like that!” It tried to explain itself, “I saw an injured homeless girl and I wanted to help her!” 

Kara’s expression shifted from disgust to empathy, “there are many homeless girls within this city, we may even outnumber the men to be quite honest.”

“You’re homeless?” Vox was surprised, yes this wasn’t the same Kara, but it was strange to see someone who resembled their friend living quite a different life. 

“And what of it, do you think even less of me because I sleep in the streets?”

“No, not at all,” the wanderer shook its head, “technically, I also do not have a home.” 

“Then you do not have ides?” the prostitute sighed.

“I don’t even know what ides are,” Vox laughed.

She tilted her head, cocking a brow, and gave a dry laugh, “I suppose we see very little money that it would feel as though it is foreign to us.”

“Hehe, yeah, that’s what I meant,” it blushed.

“If you have no ides, are you here to obtain fire?”

“Fire? Is that like a drug here?”

“Not a drug, love,” she sighed, “you wandered here by accident then?”

“I don’t know where here is,” Vox admitted, “like I said, I was just looking for a girl.”

Deciding perhaps a broke clueless boy was not worth her time, the prostitute waved her hand, dismissing him, “move along love, I have work to do.”

“Oh, okie,” it said dejectedly, “but could you maybe tell me something first?”

“Information can be a valuable thing, and you my adorable little urchin, have no ides to pay,” this certainly was not the Kara it had known. 

“I just want to know about the girl with the pink and blue eyes!” it blurted out.

Her expression changed from blasé to intrigued, “My,my, my, so you are looking for a demon? How interesting,” her lips curled into a sharp toothed grin, “There are rumors of a child who matches that description, but she resides in a village here within the city that no woman dare go near.”

“What village is that?”

“It is said to be a safe haven for the little homeless boys of the city, but truth is it is merely a harem for some sick gangster,” she answered with a sneer, “the poor child you seek lives within the walls of Valha, ‘protected’ by the monster called Loche.” 

“Why would she live in a village for boys?” Vox was confused.

“Because love, she is a little boy, or so they say,” Kara sighed, “honestly though, I wish he would have came here instead, Dario would have kept him safe,” she stood up from the steps she sat on and stretched, “I will tell you the way to Valha if you wish, but I personally would recommend a cutie like you stay far away from that wretched place.” 

“Thank you, lady Kara,” Vox bowed its head.

She laughed with a snort, “Lady Kara? Sweetie that’s rich, but I deserve no such title. I am a whore, nothing more.”

“No, I don’t believe that though,” it disputed her claim, “you have the heart of a good leader, like an angel even,” it said and she laughed some more, “I am serious, trust me, okay?”

“You are a very sweet boy, love, I wish your words were true,” she wiped a tear from her eyes as she stifled her laughter, “my aspirations are simple, I wish to earn a living while I distract others from their own misery. That is not the heart of a leader, love.” 

“But you could do more, I know it,” it insisted.

A listless hum in her voice, she simply replied, “this is all I will ever be.”

 

With no further discussion, she gave the wanderer directions, then they parted ways. Walking out the redlight district, and making its way to an old bridge that was suspended over some unused train tracks, it read the words Kara told it graffitied on the bridge's arch.

“Valha is safe, Valha is welcoming, Valha is home,” this was the place, for sure. It had been a day since Vox saw the girl, or at least it thought a day had passed, so it did not know whether or not she’d be there. Stopping the first boy it crossed, it inquired about the girl, and was simply told, “You have to talk Loche, ain't no one allowed near his toy without permission first,” and so it sought out the man called Loche.

“Voxiepoo, be careful, that Kara girl seemed very wary of this Loche jerk,” Rayle warned it. 

“And with good reason I am sure,” Vox instinctively reached for its sword, only to be reminded it was no longer there. Heavy hearted, it sighed, “you wouldn’t be opposed to fighting a man for me would you?

“A monster is a monster no matter the form it takes,” she answered, “but it seems that you are short on Eros sweetie, maybe being part of the void prevents you from having more?”

Vox had feared that would be the case, it knew that Eros was of the garden, and as a being of the void it was the opposite of a being of the garden. While the Ael of Eforde and the people of this world were born of the Goddess’ seed, Vox was simply a thing that came from nothingness. It was surprised it had any Eros at all, let alone enough to form a contract with a Sophiea and harness its power even temporarily. “So I am on my own then?”

“Only until you can muster some more Eros for me to use,” she answered, “even then it will be me harnessing my magic, and not you. We have a contract, but you are not a witch.”

That explained the lack of a brand on its naval, something it honestly had not even noticed till she mentioned this. Though it had not considered that the reason it would not be able to become a witch was due to its origins and not its gender. Regardless, it was on its own till it could recover eros, it hoped there would be no more Malefics for its own sake. Vox could handle a person on its own if it had to, though back up would still be nice.

 

Three train cars converged onto a single track, clearly the result of a past wreck. These cars, it was told, were the home to Loche and his most trusted companions. A burly teen stood outside the entrance to the middle car, chewing some kind of grass, standing guard lazily. Their slouched posture didn’t even change a little as Vox approached.

“Excuse me, I need to talk to a man named Loche,” it said to the pubescent bouncer. 

“Get lost, Loche’s not seein any guest right now,” the teen spat a wad of grass fibers, then gave Vox a look over, “hmph, maybe he would see you though. You look like you'd fit right in with the harem,” he chuckled.

“Um, no I’m not here for something like that,” Vox said, face red with discomfort, “I just need to ask about the girl with the pink and blue eyes is all.”

 

“Then beat it, Loches not to be bothered right now!” The kid kicked up dust then stomped his foot down. Despite being a teen, he still was twice the size of Vox, and though a disparity in size never stopped it before, Vox was not about to attack a minor without a good enough cause. 

No, Vox knew when not to push a point, and so it simply bowed out and walked away, though not far away. Once far enough to duck around the side of one of the train cars, it scurried out of sight, and climbed atop the train. One advantage to not having internal organs, was that it was very light compared to most people its size, light enough to tiptoe across the rooftop of the train while making very little noise. If it could not get into the train through conventional methods, then unconventional would have to do. It giggled a little thinking of what its friend back in Eforde would say seeing it creep across the traintop like a little bandit about to pull a heist. Upon reaching the part where the train cars ‘converged’, it leaped onto the center train, while the youthful guard below remained blissfully unaware of the little wanderer’s presence. 

Scrambling across the roof now, it made its way till it came across a safety hatch. Popping it open, it slipped inside, falling to the floor with the faintest little thud. Once inside the car, it immediately scanned its surroundings, whipping its head back and forth in all directions. No one there, that was good, but also it may have meant all its sneaking around was for nothing. Luckily for it, the sound of someone's frenzied shouts informed Vox that there indeed were people there. Following the ruckus to a door, Vox pressed itself to the wall, listening to the conversation from the other side.

 

“I’m risking my favorite playtoy over this, you better guarantee me you won’t go fucking things up,” a harsh raspy voice hissed.

“Its gonna be easy, we’ll grab ‘im at the baptism, and hold him for ransom. King’ll be helpless and ‘ave to comply,” another man spoke with a belly rolling laugh.

“It’s a confirmation you idiot, and no that’s not the plan,” a young voice snapped, “too many Shepherds to just grab the prince like that, we gotta wait for our two little pawns to pull their attention away.” 

“You mean Reks and that demon thing?” the other man asked.

“Yes, when they inevitably trigger the alarm while robbing the coffers, there’ll be enough focus on them for you to sack the royal little brat.” 

Demon thing? Could they be talking about the girl? Vox clenched its teeth as it continued to eavesdrop.

“Right, let those two get caught and we’ll be scotch free,” another voice added in.

“I told you, my little toy better come home, or I’ll be taking your ballsacks as my new trophies,” the belligerent raspy voice threatened.  

The first man argued, “how are we supposed to do that if he’s gonna be a distraction?”

“That’s what I need you to figure out, you have men on the inside, utilize them!”

“Just cause we got fellows of the cloth helpin on this, doesn’t mean we can help your little demon boy, if he makes it out then he makes it out. I ain't riskin my skin for the little shit,” 

“Fine, then how about this. Make sure he comes back alive and I’ll make sure you get your full pay, but he dies, then your cut’s going to be used to find me a new toy.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal, Loche!” 

“You’re oversteppin here Loche, don’t forget who we work for,” the second man said with a growl.

“Hah, like I care about those fools, they can shove their crooks up their asses,” Loche laughed, “If their as powerful as everyone thinks, than why come to me?”

“Don’t forget your place, Loche, you’re not the Butcher-God General anymore, you’re just a sick little fuck with a gaggle of lost boys,” the laughing man’s voice turned grim, “the time of the royal army is past ya, we lead the flock now.”

“And where do you think you get your flock? How many of my boys are now among them?”

“Tomorrow is the big day, we’ll do our part and your boys will do theirs. Whatever happens to ‘em is their own responsibility,” With that final statement, the door slid open, Vox still pinned to the wall beside it.

 

“What the hell?” One of the men exclaimed upon discovering the little snooper.

“This one of your boys?” The other asked with a snarl. 

“I have never seen him in my life, go ahead and kill him if you wish,” Loche dismissed them with a yawn.  

Just great, two oafish men want to kill me, it sighed as it reached for its sword, and once again, I forgot I don’t have a sword.

“Run cutie,” its familiar advised, Vox following suit. With zero hesitation Vox dashed to the nearest window and threw its body against the glass, though as you can imagine would be the case with a body so light it can walk around on roofs without making a sound, it simply did not have the force or impact to break through the window. 

 

“Owie…” it rubbed its arm, which was soon after seized by one of the two men. 

The man pinned it to the floor, snarling at it, “shoulda learned to keep your nose outta places it don’t belong, boy.” 

“You should learn to brush your teeth, pig,” Vox sassed back.

Enraged, the brute raised its fist, but before it could bring it down on Vox’s face, the little wanderer had slipped out of their grip. “Slimy little weasel!” they yelled, trying to turn to face Vox down.

“If you washed your hands they wouldn’t be so greasy,” it teased him, though its expression changed when it backed up into the other man, “oh, I forgot about you.”

Without a word the second thug grabbed Vox in a bearhug, squeezing its little body in his massive arms. The foul breathed enemy grimaced as he pulled a knife from the sleeve of his robe, approaching Vox with very ill intent. 

“That is a very nice knife you got there, little too nice for a common thug,” it commented, “I’d hate for you to stab me in my lower right abdomen, that’s my favorite body part, you know?”

 

The assailant cocked a brow, then leered at it with ill intent, “oddly specific, but if it will make ya miserable,” he lunged the knife into the exact spot Vox asked him not to. Instead of the familiar sensation of plunging a blade into a human corpus, it felt as if sticking a knife into a bucket of boiling water. It wasn’t Vox who cried out in pain, but the man who had presently held him in a vice grip. Bewildered, the attacker pulled his knife out and immediately Vox kicked him back onto his rear.  

 

“You might wanna see to your friend's wounds,” he said, slipping out of the bear hugger's hold, revealing a deep gouge in the man's belly. 

“You’re a… you’re a devil!” The knife wielder screamed.

“I mean, not technically, but I guess also not wrong,” it shrugged, “I’m just a thing really,” Vox knew that any explanation it gave would simply go over their heads, so it settled on that.

“Demon child!” the bewildered man scurried out of the train, leaving his companion behind.

Pleased with itself, Vox brushed off its parka and took a step towards the door, stopping only when a bullet zipped past its head.

 

“Look what you’ve gone and done, now I have to clean up a dead Shepherd,” Loche whined, pointing a blunderbuss in Vox’s general direction.

“Actually, I’m not dead,” the wounded man objected moments before Loche delivered the coup de gras with not so much as a flinch.

“Oh god, that is going to never come out, Shepherd brains everywhere!” he moaned and bitched, “listen little boy, you’re lucky you are cute, otherwise I’d shoot you right where you stand.”

“I’m not a little boy, I’m probably older than you,” Vox corrected him, a moot point, but it wanted to clarify, “and my pretty face can’t be the only reason you’re not turning me into another stain on your carpet.”

“You’re right, if all I wanted was a pretty face then I wouldn’t have to go far,” he loaded shot into his blunderbuss pistol as he spoke, “you however seem to possess something more than just beauty.”

“And what would that be weirdo?” 

“A je ne sais quoi, a talent for combat I haven’t seen since the war,” he gave a devilish grin, “you look lost boy, I can provide for you shelter, in exchange for your services.”

“Sorry pal, but I’m not interested in offering the kinda services you’re looking for,” Vox slowly backed away, inching closer to the door.

Loche frowned, pointing the gun back at it, “shame,” he shrugged and pulled the trigger.

“Shield of shining dawn!” Raele shouted as she manifested between the two., her magical shield blocking the projectile from hitting its target. With a fierce scowl she leapt forward to attack the gunman, only to dissipate into thin air before reaching him. As he fell to the floor with a frightened squeal, stunned by the sudden appearance of the angelic woman, he dropped his gun and cowered. Vox took the opportunity and dashed out the door, running full force till he got a safe distance away.

 

Out of breath, it squeezed out a little chuckle as it doubled over onto its knees, “well that was a close call,” it said, a tear dripping down its cheek, “not as bad as that fight with the inquisitors though.”

“Vox, you have to be careful sweetie,” Rayle chastised it, “you just barely had enough eros for me to save you.”

“I knew I had enough though,” it dropped down to the ground, sprawling out on its back, “besides, even if you didn’t intervene, he wouldn’t have killed me.”

“Hmph, you’re way too careless, Voxie,” the familiar pouted.

Vox stared up at the sky as the sun began to set, “that girl is going to be set up,” it frowned. 

“Do you want to help her?” 

“Do you even have to ask?” Vox sat up, “I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about her that I’m like, drawn to.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with your odd appearance?”

“Who knows,” it stood up and stretched its legs, then began to twist and turn to look around, “anyway, we should probably find shelter for the night.” It walked away from Valha, passing under the bridge, bumping into a small child on its way out. 

“Wait, Vox,” Rayle called its attention to the girl, “it’s her!”

It snapped its head around, but the girl had already vanished. Worse though, was the sudden lack of a pouch on Vox’s belt. “Did she… did she take my pouch?”

“Your pouch? You don’t mean?”

“The demon girl stole my pouch!”

 

The girl limped into her boxcar home, her foot bleeding and in great pain, her hand covered in melted chocolate. She ate the bonbon treat the stranger gave her, savoring it despite the muddy taste from her soiled hands. Then once the elation of having eaten her treat had passed, she looked inside the pouch she had pilfered off some random boy in the streets. 

“A box?” she said, fiddling with a strange metallic object from within the pouch, “I don’t think it’s got money in it Batty…” dejected she returned the thing into its pouch and tied it around Batty’s neck, “maybe it's valuable though, we can try and sell it later.”