The bracer’s origin part 1

Pawn eventually found her way to a three-story, generic-looking inn, positioned unassumingly, between a brothel and a casino. It was much taller then it was wide.

The celestial pushed the door open and cautiously made her way inside.

Upon entering, she found the place to have a very simple layout. To her left was the entrance to the building's only bathroom. To her right were five rounded tables, all empty. And to her front was the staircase which led to the guest rooms. Next to the stairs was a counter with seven wooden stools lined up alongside it.

Pawn assumed that the place served alcohol, based on the drunkards sitting atop six of the stools, the various colourful bottles lining the wall behind the counter, and the smell. Though, honestly, the smell alone would have been enough.

She tried to act casually as she walked to the one remaining stool and took a seat.

"How much for a week's stay," she asked the bipedal orange boar behind the counter.

He held up all four of the fingers on his left hand, as well as two of those on his right.

"...In celestial silver," she added.

The bar around her went silent.

He stared at her for a moment, and then held up two fingers, instead.

"Seems fair," she said, slamming two silver coins down on the counter, "if you throw in a drink, that is."

The demon realm was not a place where one could act submissive and survive.

Both coins were minted with the same image, a five-pointed star floating ever so slightly above a halo.

The boar picked them up using a rag, and then gave it a brief lick. A sizzling sound was heard as his tongue touched the coins.

He grunted, and then tossed a key in her direction, which she caught. The pig demon motioned to the stairs with his arm and held up three fingers.

He then slammed an unopened glass bottle down on the counter, as well.

"Room three, eh," she replied with a smile, quickly snatching the bottle, "understood."

The other patrons watched in silence as she left her stool and made her way up the stairs. Some looked fearful, others envious, and some with admiration.

Celestial currencies, strangely, were actually worth more among demons then they were among celestials, because among demons they could only be acquired by killing celestials.

Arriving at her room, she quickly entered, and then locked the door behind her. Wedging it shut with an ornate-looking chair, summoned from her inventory.

Pawn leaned her back against the door as she let out a sigh.

"Social interaction is hard in every realm..." groaned the celestial, a short moment later.

Pawn set the bottle on the room's only nightstand. She then threw herself onto the small bed in the room's corner.

"Uh..." she groaned, realizing the bed was far harder then she was used to.

She missed her bed-set made of celestial silk, and her pillow stuffed with the wool of a rainbow sheep.

"So this is my last day as a celestial, eh," she mumbled into her pillow. It was itchy, and filled with something... crunchy?

"And day one as a demon," she added before dozing off. Exhaustion was a better sleep-aid then any mattress or pillow.

Years prior...

Pawn walked alone through the flaming village, lending her support wherever it was needed. Which it wasn't.

The village residents were all dead, and the ones who killed them, Pawn's allies, were all too proud to accept help from her. Most would rather die, and so they did. Pawn thought they were all morons.

Her nature as a support-orientated celestial ached every time they would refuse her help, dying as a result. It had been like this for centuries, her repressed need to help others slowly twisting as it built up pressure.

Most of those on her side were smiling and joking about how the recent battle had gone, 'the tactical subjugation of potential combatants,' as the higher-ups called it.'Unarmed people and children,' Pawn called it, instead.

"Oi, supporter!" A man's voice suddenly emerged from behind Pawn. She cringed at the familiar voice.

The supporter turned to see a young-looking man in golden armour, he had blue eyes, short blonde hair, and two large feathery wings protruding from his back, each one as wide and tall as his main body.

"Sir?" Pawn questioned, showing the minimum amount of respect she was required to give. He was her superior officer, the one in charge of the slaughter. And despite his looks, he was actually thousands of years old.

"Search the area for enemies with your detection magic," he ordered, not bothering to make eye-contact with her, "its just a formality, as I have already done so."

"Hmph, dismissed!" He scoffed, as he flapped his wings and took to the skies.

Pawn gave a reluctant salute to her superior officer.

"Yes, commander Sebastian," she replied.

He was one of the people on her 'list,' a person she had irreconcilable differences with, and someone she should avoid whenever possible.

Pawn, a moment later, held both her hands parallel to each other, and began forming a ball of celestial energy between them. It was light blue, the same colour as her eyes.

She then, in an instant, allowed it to explode outwards, to expand in every direction in a single high-speed pulse, passing through the entire village.

After a second or two the pulse then retracted from her surroundings, reabsorbed into her just as quickly as it had expanded, bringing with it the information on all it had made contact with.

A crude map of sorts formed in her mind, offering various details about every person within a two-kilometre radius, as well as their location.

Pawn looked at it, noticing only blue and green dots in the displayed area, blue being allies, green being neutral, and red being enemies.

However, there were no red dots. No surviving demons.

"Looks like we got them all, eh. Go team justice," she said sarcastically.

But just as she was about to close the map, she noticed something odd.

The thinnest trace of red she had ever seen, as if a single drop of blood had been diluted in milk at a ratio of fifty to one.

Pawn had never seen a detection blocking skill done with such finesse before. She was so curious.

Two feathered wings immediately unfurled themselves from her back. They were only inches longer than her arms, and a slightly duller shade of white than Sebastian's had been.

She took off in the direction of the anomaly, telling no one before she left. If she brought a soldier with her, she was certain they would kill the demon on sight, allowing her no chance to actually talk to the demon responsible, no opportunity to learn the spell herself.

A short time later Pawn arrived at a small burning building, the origin of the anomaly...