Endless Darkness Beyond the Tent Flap
Aisoll's tone was as curt as ever, but she couldn't quite hide the smile creeping across her face. "Everything's burned to a crisp! Isn't there anything else?"
The sun had dipped low, and darkness fell early in the forest depths. A faint gloom blanketed the surroundings. Yet the saintess's face glowed brightly in the firelight as she sat before the campfire. Lucilla wore a subtle smile. "Eat slowly, Aisoll."
Do I look like I'm just starting? You think I'm Breri or something? That was usually Aisoll's snappy retort, give or take a few details. But right now, Aisoll was quietly munching away, as if she hadn't even heard. Lucilla let out a silent chuckle.
It had been quite some time since the hero party was formed, but this was the first time they'd moved so hastily. They'd only grabbed their personal gear, so of course food supplies were scarce. As a result, the hero party had survived the last two days on thin gruel made from boiled grains. The hero and saintess, coming from military and clerical backgrounds, didn't fuss much over portions or quality. But Aisoll couldn't stomach it. She was picky from the start, so that watery slop was never going to sit well. Gruel fills you up quick only to leave you starving again soon after. And even that, Aisoll had barely touched.
She hadn't complained outright, but Leona and Lucilla could tell her complexion was worsening. Her outburst against the succubus just before—bordering on hysteria—had surely been influenced by hunger. So it was only natural that Aisoll perked up at the smell of roasting meat and well-cooked flesh.
Leona and Lucilla set aside their own portions for a moment to watch her. The fire had been built from scavenged firewood. The skewers were crudely whittled from branches. They'd managed some salt, but the gamey wild-animal stink was unavoidable. Still, Aisoll devoured it greedily. There were utensils, but the chunks were awkwardly sized for forks, and with no one else around, she just grabbed them by hand. Her lips and fingertips already glistened with grease.
Only after polishing off two plates in quick succession did she seem somewhat sated. Then she glanced around. "Where's Breri?"
It wasn't out of the blue, nor sudden longing. Procuring food like this usually fell to the ranger, Breri. The hero could hunt wild game well enough, but no one matched a ranger in the hunt. When no immediate reply came, Aisoll raised her voice. "Where the hell is she? That giant frame isn't exactly easy to miss... Oh, wait, is it 'cause she's black?"
Even with close comrades, Aisoll could say things that would stiffen faces without batting an eye. Yet she scanned the surroundings with a subtle hint of anticipation. But no response met her hopes. Instead, Leona answered. "She left the meat and went off to scout the area a bit more. She'll return tomorrow."
Aisoll stopped looking around. Her slightly upbeat tone sank flat. "Again? Figures for that idiot—off doing something useless, as always."
"Useless, thou sayest! In the military, the importance of reconnaissance cannot be overstated. Histories of war are filled with disasters born of failed scouting. For instance..."
"Ah, whatever. Just give me more meat."
It was awfully rude, but everyone knew it wasn't sincere. Leona's lecturing had been half-hearted from the start. With a hearty laugh, she sliced more meat onto the plate Aisoll sullenly held out. Even as she took it back, Aisoll kept grumbling. "Scouting, my ass. She's doing it because of that one."
No one needed specifics to know who "that" referred to. Everyone understood. The hero party was four strong, excluding the succubus, but there were still only three tents. It wasn't that they lacked one—no one was using it, so it remained packed away.
"Did she get something to eat, at least?"
Words she'd never say to the person's face. Leona chuckled and nodded, surprised. "She ate her fill, heartily so. As if we'd starve our party's ranger. She devoured enough that I worried there might not be any left for thee, Aisoll."
Aisoll snorted a laugh. It was a joke, but not far from the truth. "She could stand to go hungry a bit. Elf my ass, with that gut piling up."
It was trash-talk, but not from real dislike—they'd known that for ages. Her tone wasn't sharp; it softened into something almost pitiful. Aisoll angrily shoved a hunk of meat into her mouth. Cheeks bulging, she mumbled, "Seriously. What a scatterbrain. She said with her own mouth it was fine..."
"Speaking of which, hast thou looked into it?" It was Leona's question—the one she'd wanted to ask from the start.
Only then did Aisoll stop complaining. With the demon horde crushed, the war had tilted toward the Empire—no exaggeration. But the Demon King and its stronghold endured. The hero party's founding purpose was the Demon King's extermination. Travel and skirmishes were at their discretion, but this was no time for leisure. They should have moved today. Yet they'd extended their camp here due to Leona's back pain first and foremost, and Aisoll's further investigation.
The pain had healed swiftly under the saintess's care, leaving Aisoll's probe as the real, substantial reason. She knew it well enough and nodded vaguely. Her face soured as she swallowed a tough sinew. "Yeah, I did... but sigh."
"It seems it bore little fruit... Did they refuse to cooperate, perchance—"
"Hold on."
Lucilla, silent until then, cut in. Leona shot to her feet. Two pairs of deep blue eyes fixed on the same spot.
"A sound."
"I heard it too."
The saintess outdid even mages at sensing demonic auras. The hero matched rangers in detecting presences. Their gazes converged on Aisoll's tent—the succubus's location.
The mage stayed nonchalant, munching the last of her meat. "What's with the sudden fuss?"
"Aisoll, thou as well."
"Just the wind. Ptoo." She spat out a tough bone.
The others weren't so casual, despite it being right beside them. Neither saintess nor hero dropped their guard. Finally, Aisoll added impatiently, "Breri's out scouting right now. What could possibly come while she's at it? Hey, hey— the meat's burning!"
Only then did Leona reluctantly sit, flipping the skewered meat with a still-tense expression. The saintess asked outright. "Aisoll. That succubus—is it perhaps."
"Oh, that?"
As if she'd forgotten. Aisoll wiped her mouth on her sleeve and grinned. "No need to worry about her. Hey, hey! That one's done! Gimme more—skip the fat!"
I'd run into the hero party if I left just like that. But escaping right now felt more urgent. So I lifted the tent flap.
It was dark outside. Had night already fallen? Was I tormented by the mage that whole time? The flap was open, but I was still inside her "lodging," so whatever rule or curse bound me hadn't lifted.
It's fine. I'll just get out. It'll wear off once I'm free.
I stepped forward—then stopped. "...Huh?"
Something was off. I looked around outside again. Dark. Pitch black. Endless darkness. Not a speck of light. Like ink-soaked rice paper, infinite black.
"Wh-what..."
Not evening already? Had that much time passed? No, even at night, could it be this dark? Something was wrong. Very wrong. I needed to run—but the mage could return any moment. I couldn't bring myself to step out.
This darkness wasn't normal. I'm not a kid scared of the dark, but this was different. A devouring void. One step, and it might drag me in.
I turned back. Inside the mage's tent hung a lamp-like light high up, illuminating brighter than the hero party's candle. I looked forward again. Still dark. No light leaked from the tent, nothing illuminated. A blackness that swallowed even light.
"No, this... what..."
I backed away. The drooped flap hid the outside again. Some simple hallucination? A barrier? That's why I couldn't leave? Go ahead if you can?
But I had to escape. She might come back and wreak more havoc. My chest still throbbed. Lavender skin marred by angry red welts. My breasts swayed so easily, but my resolve held firm.
I have to get out. Come on. It can't be worse than death. No, last night with the hero... and the mage... maybe dying would be better.
I took a deep breath. Gripped my trembling hand with the other. I can't do this. I have to go.
As I stepped forward again, the tent flap opened. Dim sky. Thick tree trunks everywhere. Dry grass. Crimson campfire glow. And the mage, standing there holding the flap.
"Wh-what?"
"What."
Her gaze, slightly higher than mine, looked down coldly. Her small, glistening lips parted.
"Were you trying to leave?"