Chapter 2

Being back in the crowd of the festival let Trace clear her head. She was becoming quicker to anger, and she knew it. There had been plenty of humans to treat her with respect, but never more than that. She was a demon in their faith. An attractive looking demon, sure, that was willing to converse instead of immediately trying to kill them. But that was all.

Philip did treat her, surprisingly, like a human at times. It was like he was testing the waters, though, as even he kept her at an arm's length, too afraid of what she was capable of doing should he anger her. That was, rather unfortunately, the result with every human that she came close to befriending. While it was true that she could turn to her people or the other demons, their cultures were too much of a culture shock to dive into the deep end on.

While it was definitely true that if she had to pick, she would hang out with the dwarves and gnomes, as they did not care in the least. They both just called her 'little giant' and enjoyed complaining at the bar with her. She really was such a simple soul in the end.

Allowing the festive music of a nearby performing troupe to drown out her thoughts, of any kind, she finally got a moment to clear her head. She had always found music to be calming back then, but it became an alarm for danger in the early years, following her reincarnation. So, it was little moments like that which helped her get by now-a-days – comfortable, at least, in the fact that she could be present for events like those now.

In a better mood now, she decided to kill some time by stall hopping. Relaxed now, she could smell the food stalls, which reminded Trace of her snack bag that she had forgotten all the way up on the vaulted church's upper runner boards. Shrugging that off, the hungry kitsune left to resupply. It was at a particular venison jerky vendor, that she was about to buy five or six peoples worth, when she recognized a guy that walked up beside her and faked his way through browsing.

"It figures that you guys would be on the move now." Trace's smile unfazed, with her five pounds of jerky strips incoming, her mouth moved as little as possible to speak. Did she piss some god off and not know about it? All she wanted was a moment, alone, with her food. Why did the lord's hounds have to start sniffing around?

"You had a moment alone with him, did you not?" He spoke into her head. It caught her a little off guard, and it felt wrong to hear, especially while he was still chatting away with the shop's aid.

Sighing in response, at first, she looked straight at him, golden eyes with pupils so thinly slit in aggression they could hardly be seen, "you can speak to me if you want to talk but stay out of my head." The poor stall aid panicked to find something else, more important, that she could be doing. The stranger lost his fake smile, snorted at her, and walked off.

With her bag of jerky now firmly in hand, she moved from drink stall to drink stall, on her walk to pass some time. The lush kitsune figured that they must have been neck deep in greetings and politics. Well, maybe not politics, as that gave the highest possible chance of causing an argument.

It was rather odd to Trace, that her taste in alcohol could not possibly be more different from before. The beer, or mead rather, that was served was just far too… well… bad. Bitter was not the correct word, as she enjoyed most teas, without sugar or honey, but she was not cultured, in that sense, to give a proper answer.

An errant thought occurred to Trace, as she gleefully chomped away. She was not giving Philip enough credit. He had met Trace during her reintroduction to society, and after having lived the better part of a hundred years with minimal interaction with intelligent life, she was rough. Feral, almost.

It was thanks to him that she learned about Ever-frost, which despite its name, sat next to a massive natural hot spring, in the middle of the northern wastes, which created a sort of oasis. The city was still just a large village back then, and Trace used it as a home-base for the better part of fifty years. Her little house was now considered prime, inner city, real estate, that she had zero interest in parting with.

Trying her best to make good timing, the kitsune went to walk past the guards, as she had trained them to allow her, but was blocked by a mountain of platemail on two legs. She figured it must have been a half-orc, because of his sheer size, but she quickly realized the misunderstanding when she caught his smell. Dragons, nor dragonkin, had much of a particular smell, save their breath.

The mobile iron mountain was a dragonkin, from the potency of the smell, but she could not pinpoint the kind – there were too many acid breathing dragons for her to remember individual smells, with far too few of their kind still alive, to practice on. It was actually the first time that the fox had met a dragonkin. Their kind were generally aloof and stayed even more hidden than her people did.

Dragons, and all related to them, had been hunted down to near extinction over the years – elves were the primary party responsible for the tragedy, as they wanted their materials. Dragon's blood, regardless of purity, was a potent magic amplifier. Their bones, scales, and organs had uses in, pretty much, every field imaginable.

They were not alone in that aspect, though, as many of the naturally magically inclined races tended to suffer a similar fate. Trace's growing hatred for humans, and elves technically, was only supplemented by their habit of viewing all other races as expendable. The gritty truths of this world had, at one point, completely depressed the kitsune. It was becoming increasingly difficult to turn down the demon's requests to join them in true, over the years.

The metal mountain bent at the waist, as they gave her a slight bow, before moving to allow her entrance. The dragonkin fell into step behind her, which surprised her. Not wanting to share, but not liking to eat in front of others either, she grabbed the smallest piece of jerky in her bag and turned to offer it as she came to a stop.

With a polite wave of his hand, and shake of his head, he refused the offered food. "I thank you for the offer, but I am only to keep an eye on you." Really? They put someone on guard duty, specifically to watch out for her. But, why? Confused by his declaration, she popped the offered piece of jerky into her own mouth, before shrugging, turning back around, and continuing walking.

Trace had to admit that she had no idea that Philip had managed to become a high priest, which may have been the real reason they did not openly object to her presence. She had become familiar with the temple's winding hallways the past week. But it was only the hallways that she was actually familiar with. In truth, she was literally wandering around, waiting to catch the scent of the new heroes, to locate them.

It did not take long for her to discover that they were back in the ritual hall from before. Stepping into the open-door room, she leaned up against a nearby support pillar. They were currently going over everything that Philip had already told them, but now in the presence of kings and queens. Jay stuck out like a sore thumb, standing head and shoulders, quite literally, above everyone else, save Trace's new metal shadow. In truth, even the dragonkin was surprised by the human's height – they were right at seven feet tall, while Jay was still slightly taller than them.

A few among the nobility noticed her entrance this time. Some noted it with a look of open disgust on their face, while others looked unphased, hiding darker thoughts behind their cold eyes. Trace had freed more than a few, secretly, from the sweaty clutches of disturbed nobles – allowing her to see their disgusting kinks firsthand.

The irony of everything was that, despite originally being a human herself, she now looked at them much in the same way that most humans looked at demons. Too few among them genuinely cared about the other races, and the ones that did were always targeted by their own kind as 'race traitors.' The truth was that all races had their filth. It was just that humans were the most populous, and the most open about their preferences. Those two things naturally led to their being on the forefront of the disgusting things that she hated about people.

It was during the final ritual that the two heroes received their blessings from the eight cardinals of the eight great faiths, and their potential as summoned heroes was unlocked. Now that they had mana coursing through them, the two were like night and day when compared to before.

Humans, and elves for that matter, required an aid of sorts to use magic. That aid was a spirit, and it was because lesser spirits flocked to the two races that they saw all other races as being lesser. Spirit magic was also only usable by the two races, a rather annoying thing to deal with, Trace would comment. Not that they were limited to using spirit magic, quite the opposite actually, but that they required the aid of spirits for all types of magic. Because of their natural limitations though, they had long since mastered containing spirits in mediums like staves or wands, and other non-metal objects.

To finalize the day's rituals, the two were to each choose a weapon to take with them. Apparently, the gravity of the situation was lost on neither of them, as they were now taking everything much more seriously. Honestly, she wanted nothing more than to convince them to leave and travel with her, instead, but doubted that she still remembered enough about them to convince the two. At the very least she had to keep them from being indoctrinated. If they turned to killing innocent demons and demi-humans, like other humans, she would personally stop them. That, she swore upon.

Jay, the tall and lanky one of the two, grabbed an ironwood staff, with a dark green crystal embedded in its top. Derik grabbed the simplest looking straight sword on display, also being the least adorned weapon available, it had the appearance of the most battle-ready weapon being presented. In truth, with the spirits now in tune with their bodies, they each grabbed the particular weapon most suitable for them.

The crowd erupted into applause after they made their selection. Each of the offered arms were the best of the best that the royal families could prepare. Created by their respective countries' finest smiths. The nobles, of course, were only really applauding it as entertainment. None of the nobility actually believed anything would happen to them, so far removed from any actual combat as they were, and with too few wars in recent years for them to comprehend what war actually entailed.

Over the next hour, the lazy kitsune did everything that she could to keep from falling asleep, while the vast majority of people filed out of the room and left to enjoy their own festivities. At the center of the vaulted room, each of the royal families were gathered together with nine robed figures, and the two new heroes.

However, interrupting her silent contemplation, now that she was thoroughly out of jerky, two men broke away from the congregation, and walked in her direction. Trace figured that she could live off of the sale of their garments for a year, easily. Gods why did important people always choose to dress so gaudily. With gold chains and expensive gems adorning their silken clothes, they looked like clowns to her. But she was in no mood to laugh, so she simply sighed at their cocky introduction.

Reaching for her hand, a handsome looking blonde boy leaned down to press his lips against the knuckles of her right hand. Fantastic, now she was going to need to soak that hand. She actually had nothing bad to really say about the guy, as she was aware of him. His country was already on friendly trade relations with Ever-frost. It was not that he was evil, he just had a proclivity for beast girls and the complete inability to keep it in his pants. She could smell the scent of sex, still, heavily on him, for that matter.

"To what do we owe for your graceful presence?" A natural lady-killer smile plastered on his face, which Trace rolled her eyes at. His partner was the first prince of the Talimok kingdom, and next in line for the throne if she was remembering their ribbons correctly. Taking her hand back now, she crossed her arms; an old habit of hers, when she felt uncomfortable around someone.

"Ah," the blonde spoke again, "this is Alyk Pretoria von Talimok, and I am Seguier Milien de Mark." Pointing to the crown prince of Talimok first, he then introduced himself. The snow-white like kitsune remembered having a long name, like theirs, before she was sent to this world, but she had long since forgotten what it was – not even remembering her first name from back then anymore. Trace was more of a moniker come name, that she eventually took for her own. It was given to her by hunters during her younger years, as they could only ever see her blurry outline as she avoided their attempts at culling her, with her monstrous agility.

With a nod of his head, probably the closest thing to acknowledgement that most human royalty would give her, the dark-haired prince followed up, before she could reply, "prince Seguier tells me that you are the representative of Ever-frost. I must say," his right hand on his chin, inquisitively, as he spoke, "it is a surprise to meet a fox-demon, miss –" he let the end of his sentence hang, as he had not yet heard her name.

With a sigh of resignation, she did, at least, give him a reply. "Trace, miss Trace if you would." Offering her hand up, he gave it a polite shake, but no more. Her animal instincts told her that he did not feel uneasy at all. He was definitely the alpha type, but he had a pensive look to him, as well. Otherwise, he looked like every royal she had ever seen – pampered and full of himself.

"He also tells me that you are quite the prodigious enchanter." The blonde tensed up a little at the comment, his poker face allowed through his shock for only a fraction of a second. Prince Alyk, not realizing his misunderstanding, produced a silver bracelet from his pocket.

Trace wanted, desperately, to ask why he was walking around with a severely tarnished women's bracelet, but she let it go. But of course, she was curious what a mundane silver bracelet had to do with anything. If it was a gift, then it was a little sudden, and strange. Not that free stuff was bad, the fox just doubted that she could get much for it.

Motioning towards it, with his other hand, he pointed at one of the bracelet's bead shaped pieces. "This bracelet was used to kill my mother, but none of our palace magi were able to determine how, or who. We only know that the enchantment faded quickly, after activating."

A pang of guilt, deep in her gut, wanted her to tell him what she knew. But she was not willing to become the enemy of a nation, for something that she enchanted by request, for someone she had forgotten, until right then. Worse, she had done it just last year, and it was only out of her paranoia that the palace magi could not divine anything from it. Of the twelve spells, originally enchanted onto it, only one affected the wearer in any way. "Unfortunately, human prince, divination is a weak point of mine."

After an acknowledging smile, on his otherwise cold face, he returned the bracelet to his pocket. "I don't mean to sound rude, but –"

'Oh, here we go…'

"- it was a surprise to see a demon at the hero summoning. I just figured Miss Trace would hate the heroes." He, actually, looked genuinely curious. Not an ounce of derision in neither his scent nor his heart rate, just a steady, comfortable, pulse.

However, with a sigh, she shook her head in disappointment. "As usual, you humans misunderstand us." Lifting her head to look him in the eyes now, as he was taller than her – which was probably the hardest aspect to adapt to, after re-gaining a humanoid body. "We don't hate the hero… heroes… or you. What we hate is the disgusting faith that preaches our complete genocide. That, the world would be happier without."

Both princes were surprised. Not just by her backbone, that let her lecture the two of them, but also her easy-going tone from start to finish. The two princes were old friends and had initially only come over out of curiosity – it was not often that they had a chance to meet a demon, of any type and right now both of their families were too busy to interfere.

However, as luck would have it, right as she gave her little lecture, everyone in the middle of the room had paused for a prayer, and her words echoed across the otherwise silent room.

The dark-haired gentleman actually seemed to contemplate her words, much to her surprise. Before their conversation could continue, however, the two of them were beckoned back, by a panicking herald. It was too dangerous for royalty such as them to stand around demons or wild animals. Trace had already heard it all, by that point – pains of a long and active life.

Brushing it off with a shrug, she imagined the little man running around, if she polymorphed two dicks onto his head, in place of a second set of ears. 'All hail, the originator dick-head demon!' laughing a little, she posted back up against the pillar.

---

Vilkin, the bronze-scaled dragonkin responsible for keeping an eye on Trace, almost passed out. He had subconsciously held his breath the moment the words, 'I don't mean to sound rude, but…' came out of a human prince's mouth. At best, he figured he would be giving a witness testimony by the end of day. At worst, he would have been given the mop duty, to clean up after gloriously failing his one job for the day.