CHAPTER 44: for our fallen friends.

Sirin broke the glass without hesitation and picked up the feather. He frowned as it started to burn his hand.

He found it odd how it could harm him by simply touching it. Since he was quite curious about what it was, he wrapped it in a piece of cloth and took it with him.

The rest of this mission wasn't that noteworthy. Sirin charged in first, killed a few humans and the rest of the group captured the people who had more information. After that he only had to collect the souls of the people he killed. There were quite a lot, so coming to this world wasn't a waste of time.

When all of it was finally over and all the soldiers were imprisoning or questioning the new prisoners, Sirin retreated back into the dim lit section of the base.

Here he was just playing around with the feather. He had even pulled out one of his own to better compare them.

Despite the feathers being identical in every way except the colour, it also didn't have the scent of hell. So, the creature it belonged to wasn't a demon unless in the rare case that a demon was born outside of hell.

Not knowing what to do with it, Sirin put the feather away and started to mess with his magic creation skill. To free Amanda and her child from their curse he needed to be better at using this skill. He couldn't help them with merely a flower after all.

He had just created a pretty large knife with some bloodred jewels in the handle and wood like lines decoration the blade itself. It was clear that this weapon wasn't meant to attack people but just for show. Except the jewels. These were created in such a way that they could store Sirin's magic.

Like this he could use the earlier stored magic in his magic creation what should speed up the proses of having enough magic to make a cure. Of course, he would not always use the knife for this. It was simply not practical. As for why he made the knife in the first place, he just liked it.

While Sirin was busy messing around, the soldier he had fought with earlier waled trough the dark hallways, quietly observing the many unknow symbols scattered all over the walls.

Somewhere in the distance they could hear the demon sing. The soldier couldn't make out a word. Sirin always spoke in a strange way, as if he were never speaking in their language at all and simply used some weird kind of magic to overcome the language barrier. But everyone was always able to understand him, unlike now.

As hey came closer the sinning suddenly stopped. In the blink of an eye Sirin stood in front of them.

"What is it?" The demon hissed.

The soldier unseated their gun and right in between Sirin's glowing eyes. "I'm here to come and pick you up. the higher ups decided that since you didn't eat any of us, and none of us died. We should work together more often."

The demon sighed and pushed the gun away. "I have no objections, but I would still like to stay here. I have to practice some stuff. And it would be wise for you mortals to stay out of it in case I accidentally open a gate to hell."

"One, quit calling all of us mortals. My name is Vran, and the others have names as well. Two, you can go back to this weird dark cult thing you're making when were done. Its just some team building shit, you won't die from it."

"Are you sure that you want me there? I'm not a part of your team. I'm only here because it benefits me, now piss of mammalian scum."

Vran grabbed Sirin by one of his horns and pulled him towards them. "Ow suck it up you pale piece of shit. You don't have to stay; I just have to bring you there to win a bet. So, you're coming, or I'll make one of these bullets your one-way ticket back to hell."

In one swift movement Sirin managed to free himself of the soldier's grasp. "Fine, I will come to your team building shit as you so vividly described. But I will only go there my way."

Before Vran could question what was going on the demon suddenly turned into a living shadow with bright white stripes. Sirin grabbed them and before they knew it, they were dragged into the shadows.

A few seconds later the both of them appeared in the large hall where the soldiers had gathered.

Vran was still startled and stared at the demon that had now returned to his original form. "What the hell were those things? Those whispers in the shadows?"

Sirin shrugged. "I don't know, they live there, I guess. But for some reason not every mortal I drag in there can see them." He stopped to look at the various soldiers that were either drunk, playing music, or daring each other to do stupid stuff.

"What are they doing?" He asked with one eyebrow raised.

Vran quickly pulled themselves together. "Usually, people die during missions like this. So, after each one we throw a party in their name because we know our fallen friends wouldn't like to see us defeated and sad. And this time, we didn't want to break the tradition just to include them another time."