Chapter 511: A Worthy Gift
Ophelia kept her promise.
Her sword glittered with stardust as she plunged her blade directly into the face of the devil.
Poof.
However, instead of the opportunity to make an embalmer’s day, all she received was a cloud of cinders as the devil suddenly vanished.
Drifting embers lit up the rooftop, adding their glow to the moonlight she’d found herself missing. Because if a single lesson with the Leaf Dancer ever taught her anything, it was to appreciate everything not found on his hermit mountain.
“Well now,” said the devil, his voice calm and measured from somewhere behind Ophelia. “I must say, I–”
She didn’t bother waiting.
Instead, she turned on her heel and leapt, her sword gleaming beneath the stars as it drove straight into the devil’s face.
Poof.
He ignited into a cloud of fiery motes once again, leaving nothing but disappointment as the chance to extract pure 100% freshly squeezed devil essence vanished. But Ophelia didn’t have to wait long for another opportunity to start her new business idea.
“Snow Dancer,” said the devil from behind. “If you would please just–”
Turning on the spot, she leapt at once, her sword singing through the air as it plunged through the devil’s face.
Poof.
All it earned was the briefest hint of a grimace, the narrowing of eyes and another cloud of the stuff she wasn’t breathing in. She blew the cinders away instead, then turned and leapt once more.
“Stop for just–”
Poof.
Pirouetting on her heels, she swept her sword around and lunged, repeating the same motion at a devil now standing far enough away to raise his palm, a flame igniting in his eyes.
“[Stop].”
His voice reverberated with command.
For a moment, Ophelia stilled as the shockwave washed over her, almost causing her to stumble. She caught herself, then lifted her foot and stepped forwards, feeling the invisible roots unravelling at once.
The devil’s eyes widened, especially as she lunged again.
Poof.
Gradually only able to manage fewer words each time, the devil vanished into a scattering of embers as he was forced to relocate once more. Which was good. Soon he’d be reduced to huffs of discontent and all the world would be happier for it.
An unfortunate thing, then.
Because as Ophelia turned on her heel once again, she found nothing there to greet her.
Instead, she swept her gaze across the rooftop, doing what she did best. After all, while the devil was adept at keeping his nefarious aura subdued, all elves were attuned to anything that needed stabbing.
“Hmm.” Ophelia casually twirled her sword as she looked upwards. “I don’t think you’re following the rules of the face stabbing game. This can’t be the first time you’ve played it.”
Above her, standing on the window ledge of a spire overlooking the rooftop, the devil waited imperiously, his hands neatly clasped behind his back.
He wasn’t nearly far enough away, of course, and yet instead of jumping, Ophelia paused at the only thing capable of making her do so.
A look of begrudging respect.
This was new.
Usually by this point, people were cursing, running away, trying to stab her back or a mixture of all three.
He was doing none of those things.
The smile had faded, leaving his cheeks set hard, his eyes slightly sunken and his brows drawn together, yet the vitriol she expected was missing.
“Indeed, Snow Dancer,” said the devil, with all the courtesy of someone wanting to call the guards. “I’ve a long and storied trading history. But difficult customers, while rare, are certainly not unknown to me.”
“Yeah, life’s hard for small businesses, huh? Everyone wants to haggle.”
“Haggling I’ve no issue with. If I’ve something to sell, there’s always common ground. You, however, seem intent on destroying me–and I’m afraid that service isn’t for sale.”
“Now that’s just untrue. After letting me see the shirtless old guy again, I’m looking at a 300% discount. That means you owe me.”
“The civic laws of self-defence say otherwise. But I’m hardly one to linger over small matters of law. I’m only a devil, after all. Regardless, I would like to offer my apologies as restitution. It seems I was mistaken. Your mental fortitude is far greater than I expected.”
“Sure. But maybe you’re just not a very good devil. I’m still waiting on the barbed tail.”
“You and a princess both. But I am a merchant, not a pit fiend seeking to sate an appetite. I dare say that is a mercy, for this is an exercise in futility. You cannot stab me, nor is it something you truly wish to.”
“I think your magic’s getting weaker. I don’t feel any pull there.”
“That’s because there’s no magic involved. It’s simply a very reasonable suggestion. What do you possibly hope to gain by inflicting harm upon me?”
Ophelia blinked.
“Is that a rhetorical question or … ?”
“No. You know how this works, Snow Dancer. We all do. I am a devil of the Hells. My immortality is anchored to my realm. You could stake me like a vampire or toss me into a cauldron of holy water as crusaders have done in the past. Yet while mildly uncomfortable, it would be nothing more than an inconvenience to me. But for the princess, it would be a calamity.”
“Yeah, she’ll be forced to praise me. She won’t know which words to use. I can’t wait. It’ll be really cute.”
“Praising you is the last thing she’ll do. Have you any idea who I am or what I’m trying to do?”
“Eh, I know enough. Devils are all in the same boat.”
“Yes, we all are riding the River Styx … but it doesn’t mean our destination is the same. I intend to carve out a port of my own. And it will be one where order and peace will finally hold sway.”
“Yawn. That’s just a euphemism for world domination. Like every elf the moment they get their first wrinkle.”
The devil immediately raised a finger.
“I am not a wrinkled elf,” he said, his annoyance admittedly justified. “Nor are my ambitions to be made light of. In a world where people always choose the lesser of evils, I am by far the least among them. The greatest are those above us. Those who write the laws while remaining lawless themselves. And in the princess, I see an opportunity to balance the scales.”
“Well, you don’t have a lot left to bargain with. She took your stuff.”
“She took what I allowed her to. Including a crown destined to unlock her potential.”
Ophelia hummed, her eyes looking to the corner.
“… Oh, you mean the bucket?”
“It is not a bucket. It is the key to unlocking the iron clamped around her ankles. And now that she has it in her possession, the first steps towards restoring order have already been taken.”
The devil raised his palms out and smiled.
“By all means, please share that tidbit with her. I wish for her to know the crown is there. Because when the walls of her kingdom tremble and all seems lost, either hubris or necessity will demand she wear it. And then she will turn her sword toward the very heavens, freeing us all from the shackles.”
“Right, it’s just that I think she mentioned feeding the bucket to her horse. And I don’t mean by carrying carrots, but literally letting her horse chew it. Do you think it’ll still work afterwards?”
The devil paused.
In that moment, it became clear that in all his untold centuries of scheming, the idea that somebody would willingly destroy one of his artifacts by feeding it to a horse instead of hoarding it never once crossed his mind.
“I have more,” he said, the casualness far too forced. “Expensive though this endeavour is, it is worth it. As you should agree. Why do you not wish to see the princess’s full promise unlocked?”
“I mean, I’m pretty sure she can do that without the devil small print.”
“The princess is talented. But talent must be nurtured. Guided. She cannot just swing her sword at caterpillars and fruit slimes each day and somehow reach her full potential. That would just be absurd.”
Much to the devil’s obvious distaste, Ophelia’s response was to nod like a hummingbird.
“Yeah, it’s going to be hilarious,” she said, already bouncing at the thought. “I’ve seen the [Big Ball Of Doom]. I can’t wait to see the [Even Bigger Ball Of Doom]. You talk about the walls of the kingdom shaking, but I’m pretty sure she’s the only reason that’ll happen.”
“Then she will only speed up Lady Fate’s hand. Calamity draws calamity, after all.”
“Because you’ll be randomly tossing cursed hats around, right? If so, let me know where. My treasure reef at the bottom of the lake is starting to become really colourful.”
The devil wrinkled his nose.
“I make no comment regarding my actions or your lack of regard over rust. Know, however, that your defiance is senseless. Even should you disperse me or your ducks peck through the many layers of enchantments upon my infernal anchor, I will simply return.”
Quack, quack.
Ophelia smiled, glancing over as Duck A and Duck B took turns pecking away in the corner.
The sister’s amulet was already scratched beyond recognition. She was glad they were having fun. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t as well.
“Great. That’s what I want to hear.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s really hard to find someone that comes back after I stab them. You can help me with my new techniques. The old shirtless guy’s going to be jealous that I have a new training dummy.”
The devil looked outraged, his calm exterior falling at last.
“The impertinence,” he said, his tone falling into a hiss. “I am not a training dummy.”
“I dunno. Given what you said, you seem perfect for the job. I really hope you don’t take decades to come back. Murdering a devil repeatedly sounds really fun. I’ve been looking for a new hobby.”
“Murdering me is not a hobby. It is a nuisance for which there are very grave consequences for you. You cannot indefinitely delay my plans.”
“Pretty sure I can. You act like you have all the time in the world, but there’s no way that’s true. You’re here because you need the princess, and I bet there’s only a small window to make use of her. So I’ll just stop you every time. Over and over and over again.”
Ophelia leaned forwards slightly, a maidenly smile upon her face.
“... That means wherever you spawn, I’ll be there. When you stand half-lit in the shadows while saying something mysterious, I’ll be there. When you sit in an inappropriate spot while letting everyone know you’re obviously more than you look, I’ll be there. When you go to the bathroom while desperately hoping I respect the idea of privacy, I’ll be there. And each and every time, I’ll be stabbing your face. Like I said, I want to be the princess’s only problem, and a devil definitely takes up too much of her time. But luckily for you, I have lots of that.”
The devil became silent.
A rare thing. But rarer still was that for once, he was the one weighing up his options.
After all, while most would recoil at the thought of fighting a devil, Ophelia would happily do it again and again as required. She’d probably invite the Leaf Dancer so they both had somebody to beat up. Maybe even the clockwork doll would join in as well.
Several moments passed.
Eventually, all traces of the devil’s amicable candour vanished. He frowned with the expression of one forced to accept a deeply unfavourable deal instead.
“There are free spirits, and then there is you,” he said, allowing only the most fleeting acknowledgement to appear. “It’s rare to find someone with so little regard for consequence.”
The devil raised his fingers.
And then–
Click.
The sound reverberated, loud enough that all across the royal capital could have heard it.
Yet none could react.
The world stood still. The stars no longer blinked. The clouds ceased to move. The flames of the torches, lanterns and a bonfire froze in place. The sound of laughter turned to silence.
And Ophelia became as unmoving as a statue in the night.
Swifter than a blink, the devil reappeared before Ophelia, his eyes alight with infernal flames, matching the orb of hellfire gathering in his palm.
There was little mirth in his expression. Only the regret of a merchant forced to reassess his ledger.
“Rejoice, Snow Dancer. Few are worthy of my direct intervention. It is, as you can imagine, a far more expensive endeavour than making you a princess could ever be. But your optimism in the laws governing the mortal realm is misplaced. I have paid a thousand years of dues to ensure that when moments like this arise, I am within my rights to act.”
The hat merchant wrinkled his nose.
And so the devil who was neither truly here nor there allowed himself to come into being, if only to hurl a fireball at Ophelia like so many wished to do.
Sadly for him, none ever succeeded in doing so.
Ophelia was the Snow Dancer. And so far, only a princess had managed to melt her.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Unbound by the still world, a vast swathe of golden chains burst from glowing portals around the devil, snapping tight as they enveloped him in an instant.
The infernal spell shattered and the world resumed.
The devil’s eyes widened, the surprise and confusion plain on his face. And yet it was not the heavens or the hells that answered his brazenness.
It was something far worse.
“Benefactor, you have erred.”
It was a very scolding mother.
Descending like an angel of retribution, Magister Celisse of the Caedrawood and Ophelia’s mother came down from the sky, the hems of her robe and the length of her golden hair lifted by an unseen gale. A pale, shining light spilled from her eyes as the depths of her divine magic were finally unveiled.
A sight to make any foe tremble. And had the devil been able to move, perhaps he would have as well.
“Well now,” said the devil, his merchant’s smile returning at once. “The Saint of the End. What a delight it is to meet you at last. To think the rumours would do you so little justice. So very few can obscure themselves from my gaze as cleanly as you do.”
“It is a necessity in my line of work. Those after my plushies will stop at nothing to hound me. They are the worst devils. But it is helpful to evade the eyes of those like yourself as well.”
“I am honoured. For a small devil concerned only with selling hats to earn the ire of one as gifted as yourself is no small achievement.”
“You do more than sell hats, Benefactor. You have been quite busy.”
“Indeed. And busier I shall need to be. My emporium has been destroyed. A crushing omen, but I intend to rebuild it, as well as my clientele list. Might you be interested in some of my remaining wares? I regret that your daughter appears unimpressed by them.”
“Ophelia has no need of trinkets. She is capable of all she wishes to do, including drawing the impatience of a devil. You have faltered. You should have remained in the veil between realms.”
Ophelia stretched, deliberately moving her limbs before the hardening smile of the devil.
It was nice not being on the receiving end of her mother in times like this.
“Splendidly done,” said the devil, nodding as all he could do. “Then I admit my defeat. This has been a learning experience I shall remember. Although I am but a shadow of what I am in the hells, there are few who could have humbled me as easily as you’ve now done.”
Lady Celisse offered a smile.
“Excellent. Then you can be of use.”
A moment of silence passed.
They were the words a devil would usually delight in. And yet all he had to offer was a cordial smile.
“Of course. That is my role. I am the Benefactor, or so I try. It is difficult to be the only empathetic devil in the hells, but I bear the scorn of my kind. To what help could I offer the Saint of the End upon such a wonderful midsummer night’s eve?”
“I have chosen to take a princess as my daughter-in-law.”
“My congratulations. The princess is truly a wonderful choice. I expect nothing but warm days.”
“Thank you, but that is premature. Before anything can be arranged, the princess must first be impressed. Which means a suitably impressive engagement gift.”
The devil feigned all the delight the hells could offer.
He shifted within the restraints, as though instinct told him to click his fingers.
“Ah, but of course. My emporium might have seen better days, but I am not without means. If there is anything I can offer, I will do so happily. Why, I will even offer my most generous discount, as a courtesy for the time you have taken from your busy schedule.”
“Thank you. That is a relief to hear.” Lady Celisse smiled as she turned to Ophelia. “Sweetleaf, have you chosen a suitable candidate yet?”
Ophelia nodded with contentment.
“Yup,” she said, revealing a pure white diamond in her palm where none existed before. “This one I didn’t actually steal. I legitimately bought it with the crowns I stole. From the trolls. Can you believe it?”
“I’m so proud of you. I see the princess has truly made an impression on us both.”
The devil turned very silent upon seeing the diamond.
As he stared, it was clear that behind his eyes stirred thoughts he’d not entertained for centuries. Rather than bargains to tempt, they were of how to avoid the worst fate that could possibly befall a devil.
He turned from one elven woman to the other.
“You cannot be serious,” he said, his tone steeped in disbelief.
Both Lady Celisse and Ophelia slowly raised a hand to their lips, barely covering their smiles.
A moment later, they cackled in a way that would make a princess approve.