74

The crowds thin as you make your way toward the portal. Only a few particularly brave or foolhardy civilians have actually pushed their way into the hills.

Alvis is calmer than you expected, given that you're off to face what will almost certainly be a real demon with no actual demonic combat experience.

"Well, it's mostly on you at this point," he says when you mention this to him, with a smile you think is sympathetic. "No one's expecting me to fight the thing. You'll be the one throwing fake fireballs around. But the militia really can handle one demon. It can't take control of all their minds at once. They'll corner it before it can teleport away.

"I think I'd do us more harm by letting the villagers see me running away." Alvis gives a deliberately casual shrug. "It'll be over in a moment. It's what comes after this that concerns me. I don't think there's any hope the prophecy's not coming back anymore."

You make your way up the dark grassy paths between the hills and come to the clearing that houses the portal. The portal itself is still nothing more than the shimmer in the air you remember from three years ago, although the darkness in the sky does appear to be spreading from directly above it.

Standing in uneven rows before the portal are about thirty people, wielding mostly pikes. Some of them are armed and armored well enough to be regular members of the town guard, and some must be the recent volunteers.

You see Dalton waving enthusiastically at you from the front lines. Captain Haris, standing at his side, asks if you'll require any arms or armor.

You have a very fine sword that was awarded to you after your first quest, though you've never had occasion to use it in a real fight since then. Alvis accepts a sword Haris offers him. He grips the hilt easily enough, though the look in his eyes is apprehensive.

Haris directs you to stand behind the militia, looking you over with a relieved smile. "We've been waiting for some time already. Nothing yet, but it's good you got here when you did," they say. Turning sharply, they resume addressing the militia. "There's no way to predict who the creature will and won't try to pull into its thrall! Keep a wary eye on your neighbors, and try to keep hold of your mind."

Next

There's a sudden soft noise behind you. You whirl around before you quite know what it is and find Meredith standing there with a solemn expression. You're not certain if she appeared from thin air or has been quietly following you all this time, but she certainly made no sound before now.

"Remember what we spoke about, Jun," she says. Without another word, she begins climbing the closest hill.

Before you open your mouth, you notice none of your companions are examining Meredith at all. It's a familiar sort of indifference for someone used to controlling what people do and don't see, and you realize you must be the only person aware of Meredith's presence.

If she can not only make herself invisible but control who sees her and who doesn't, that's beyond any kind of illusion you can practice yourself.

Before you can decide if you should alert Alvis or Haris, the ground begins to shake.

Next

The portal is looking more and more solid, silvery and translucent rather than a near-invisible shimmer. You drew out the false breach you staged for ages, but the real portal only stays in this state for a moment or two before something bursts forth.

You can't get a sense of the demon's shape when you first see it. Its body is flickering and dark, not quite solid—you got that much right three years ago. But it's larger than any of your false demons, and less humanoid. Sprawling arcs that must be limbs stretch across the sky, outlining a tangled form nearly as large as a carriage. You can only tell where the head is from its glowing red eyes.

The thing stretches and contracts in the air, as if trying to decide what size it should be. It throws back its head and produces a sound something like thunder and running water. You wouldn't recognize it as a language if you hadn't heard the human trade tongue meant to imitate it.

You don't notice the commotion in the front row of the militia at first. You look over just in time to see Captain Haris, moving in unnatural bursts, draw a knife from their belt and drive it into Dalton's chest. With a startled gasp, Dalton falls to the ground.

Human screams join the demon's ongoing shriek. Several members of the militia flee. Others are struggling with their neighbors, who turn on them with weapons drawn, obviously controlled by the demon in the same manner as Haris. The demon doesn't have all of the militia, no more than three—no, four—but there are enough in its clutches that you realize with perfect clarity amid the clamor of the night that this isn't going to be as easy as Alvis predicted.

The militia is looking to you as an example as much as they're hoping for you to strike. How you act now is as important as what you're doing, and you can't hope to rely on any single talent alone.