Chapter 11

On the last day before the Calling, Trace had found nothing to do. So, she just took the opportunity to laze about instead. The fox practically stayed in bed the entire time, only leaving when she was hungry or to fulfill unfortunate biological needs. When she left the inn on the morning of the Calling, she was still in a daze; Trace had slept too much and was a little dehydrated from drinking too much.

Yawning on her way downstairs, she was in search of a pick-me-up. While there was nothing similar to coffee to drink, there were a few foods that had a similar effect. Filiar seeds, tiny little black seeds with a white dot in the center, were one such item, and they were a popular import for the city. As they were fairly potent, they were sold in small amounts, but trace had bought a few pouches of them. Trace had ordered a few drinks late the night before, which she was paying for now.

Eating the potent filiar seeds like candy as she walked, Trace made her way towards the largest structure in the underground city. Originally carved out of a single massive stalagmite, the castle-like building reached halfway up, towards the absurdly high ceiling. Any semblance to the stalagmite that it was gone, it looked to be built from the ground up, because of the designs that covered the exterior walls.

Guards were posted every couple dozen steps up the long and steep stairwell. But rather than walking up the whole thing, Trace chose to jump straight to the top, blowing past them. Still yawning as she made her way inside, she downed a few more seeds. Even if she did not want to be here, the fox wanted to be as coherent as possible, less she missed something that pertained to her.

The city's central structure put most human designs to shame, in its size alone. It was also a rather complex building, in truth. The interior was designed to act as a sort of maze for anyone not used to it, and even then, if one was not paying attention, they might get lost, never to be seen again. There were more than a few of the tunnels in the structure that they had either stopped using, for one reason or another, as well as those that had never been finished in the first place.

Trace had no need to worry about navigating, as there were signs posted up every so often. Written in an old variation of Ni'Glesh, she was able to read it well enough to be able to follow them. The closer she got to the center of the structure, the louder it got, as more and more people came into view.

While the Calling only required the elders to be present, many others of lower standing made an appearance as well. Most of them were vying for either protection from older, larger, families or sought to reach trade agreements with other clans or villages. They were not generally a monolithic people, as arguments and discussions could be heard down every corridor that Trace passed.

Already wanting to leave, the fox made her way deeper inside, until she came up on a massive steel door. It was simple looking, but it was intended for function, not appearance. As she neared it, the dozen heavily armed guards fell into attention. "State your business."

Pulling a rectangular metal plate out of thin air, Trace handed it over. It was proof of her being an elder, and it was required for her to be allowed through that door. After walking with her to the door, the guard pressed the plate against it. The plate lit up green, before he handed it back to her, and opened the door.

As the door opened Trace could hear the tail end of her being announced. Just like the humans that they loathed, they loved their procedures and titles. It made them feel important. Already having grown used to it all, unfortunately, the fox made her way through the opened door, and towards the massive table at the center of the wide room. From the looks of things, most of the elders had already made it.

Trace walked over to a small table at the side of the room, where a servant was handing out refreshments. However, someone intruded on her. "It looks good on you, but blue suits you better; Contrasts your beautiful eyes." Trace could feel her skin crawl at the sound of his voice. It was Asmeus, and sure enough, he had accompanied his father to the meeting.

"I thought the whole point of the guards was to keep uninvited guests out." After taking a hurried sip of her drink, Trace retorted to his comment. All he ever did was compliment her, which would be fine, if not for the look in his eyes. It was like he couldn't see clothes at all, as he looked her up and down, a creepy smile across his creepy face. Gods how Trace hated that man.

"Hahah, always with the witty comebacks. It would suit you to put that tongue to use elsewhere." She could hear him start to laugh before he even finished talking. If it was not for the city's laws, Trace would have already painted the walls of the room, his body serving as a bludgeoning brush. The servant that she stared at, less she actually turned to look at Asmeus, was dripping cold sweat from the look on her face. Trace's eyes screamed of the murder she wanted so badly to commit.

The male kitsune was still seven-tailed, just like the day she had met him. If it was not for the fact that Trace did not want to start an all-out war with Malice, she would have ended the perverts life years ago. Thankfully they were joined by another, but Asmeus was too single minded to care about their approach.

Trace had never met them before. He was muscular, but he dressed neatly. Even then, he looked moments away from exploding out of his fine clothes, that looked to be made a size too small for the man. While his bare arms were covered in scars that looked to be from combat, he kept himself well groomed. It was a rather strange mix, if Trace were being honest, even by demon standards.

"So, have you given my proposal any thought?" He really does not give up, does he? Before trace caused an actual scene, she slammed her drink down and walked off, after glaring at the trash kitsune.

"Did your parents not teach you any manners, boy?" As Trace turned to walk away however, the flesh mountain spoke. "Apologize to the lady."

"For one bringing up manners, you obviously have none yourself. Our conversation does not concern – ah!" In the middle of Asmeus speaking, the man placed a large hand on the crown of his head, before squeezing it closed and picking the annoying kitsune off the ground by just his head. Asmeus screamed out suddenly as the grip first tightened, and from the red spreading across his eyes, it appeared to hurt.

At first, Trace was wide eyed, but she broke into a giggle fit as she looked up at the man. He had grabbed ahold of the gentleman's wrist and was trying to pry himself free, but to no avail. "Ah… I don't know who you are, but I needed that. Thank you." The fox had to wipe tears from her eyes, she had laughed so hard. It broke character for her to act like that around these people, but she had truly found it that funny.

"Apologize. Now." He, however, did not seem to hear her, as he stared Asmeus down.

"Ah, I see my son has caused a scene, I do apologize Og. He can be a fool of a boy, but I must ask that you release him before he dies." The giant turned his head, and then looked down at Malice. "I will owe you one old friend."

After a grunt, he let go of Asmeus' head, dropping him to the ground. He then turned to look at Trace, before nodding his head, which she replied in kind. "Mal, keep your boy on a leash. She follows the laws here. I don't." With his warning given, he walked off. Trace, not wanting to get caught up in any follow up conversation with either Malice or Asmeus, found somewhere else she could be too.

Og was it? She had never heard the name before, but then again, she had never heard Malice called Mal before either, so it was likely a nickname of sorts. It was hard to believe that she would have missed someone that large being here before, so she was certain that it was her first time seeing him. But Malice had called him his old friend, so it was likely that she was missing something.

Not seeing a reason to keep thinking about it, she dropped the thought and moved on. The elders had until high noon to be in the room. Once the sun had reached its zenith, for the area, its light would shine down through hole that would trigger the large metal door from before to lock, and stay locked, until the same time the next day. While Trace had her own way to leave, she was not about to give that away. A rainy day, maybe.

Small cliques formed between the elders, and the few guests that were allowed in. Trace had only ever interacted with a few of them, preferring to stay out of their intrigue if possible. Thankfully, out of the sixty elders, including herself, the majority of them wanted nothing to do with her. They hated that she got to where she was, as quickly as she did. Even Asmeus was a good deal older than she was, which did irk the male kitsune. While she was, by and far, the youngest elder present, at around one hundred and fifty years old, the next youngest was hundreds of years older than she was.

Trace could go about earning their respect, but she had no urge to make a show of strength around all of those battle thirsty fogies. Even if she won, it would only invite more challengers.

However, interrupting her thoughts, a sudden loud metallic click could be heard. It was the door. There were people missing, it was odd. Not actually caring about that, Trace walked towards the central table, and found a vacant seat. But she waited to see where the other kitsune was sitting, chose a spot as far away as possible, and then sat down. Og, the man from before, sat on Malice's right. Asmeus stood behind his father, as he did not have the qualification to take a seat at that table.

It was silent, as it looked like most were counting the number of absences. At least a quarter of the known elders were missing – easily ten times that of how it usually was. Now even Trace found it to be strange. Taking a moment to glance around the room, she noticed a section of wall, opposite the large metal door, opened up on hidden hinges.

'There was a door there?'

She could usually smell the movement of air flowing through the cracks of hidden doors, so it was rather strange that she had never noticed it before. A few others, however, seemed to share her thoughts. Narrowing her eyes, she watched as the late comer – another person that she had never seen before – made his way to the table, and to the one spot that had always been left vacant. However, he stood behind the chair, his arms behind his back. He was a servant by the way he acted.

Thick black smoke started to billow out the small doorway, where it billowed straight up, towards the room's high ceiling. Out of the thick smoke walked, what looked like, someone wearing large and spikey black full-plate armor. The draconic looking helmet covered their head and face.

'Are they looking at me?'

Not sure why, but that was what she felt. She was positive about it, as the gut feeling from before seemed to somehow intensify physically. Whoever that was, behind that helmet, gave her the bad feeling.

"Are you the upstart that claimed the crown then?" Trace could never even begin to remember the speaker's name. He was the oldest in the room, by a lot, and he was the leader of what remained of the dragons. Supposedly, he was the one to actually sign the pact with the very first demon lord, but Trace doubted it. At least, if he was, then dragons were a lot weaker than she was always told.

The figure did not reply, but rather they joined the first figure, standing on the other side of the same chair.

'I guess not…'

Whatever that black fog was, it emanated from the person within the plate armor.

'A little on the dramatic side, don't ya' think?'

The third person to, finally, step out the door looked like it had crawled directly out of a nightmare, of a follower of the light. They barely passed as humanoid, with their blown-out features.

They were solid, glossy, black from head to toe. The pure white, jagged, teeth and solid, blood red eyes, like that of an insect, were the only thing of a different color. It was easily eight feet tall, and boney looking with a large pair of horns. Two sets of bat-like wings, 4 total, spread out from their back. "Yes, I would be the upstart that you are referring to."

Slow and confident strides carried them to their seat. Both of his… its… whatever, their servants dropped to a knee as they sat down, fingers tented on the table.

Trace, rather suddenly, stood up and started to walk over to them.

'What the hell am I doing?'

Her face mimicked what she had shown to the drink server from before. Not at all sure why, Trace was absolutely enraged at the one who sat down. Neither of the three reacted, outside of watching her. The butler looking one even seemed a little happy that she was walking over.

'Seriously, what in the hells is going on?'

Everyone else just watched, sure to see the cocky newbie plastered all over the chamber walls. Malice looked ready to panic, while his son just looked confused, as Trace yanked the glossy black creature right out of their seat, her hand locked, firmly, around their neck. Still, the other two did not react. Now, everyone was confused.

The thing that she had just flung across the room sent cracks all over the walls, as it crashed, through a large support pillar and then into the wall.

"You have a good pair of eyes." It was the plate wearer that spoke up, as he sat in the chair she had, unintentionally, turned towards him. The creature from before slowly crumbled apart. Its pieces first turned into black smoke, then returned, through the gaps in their plate armor.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" Not at all pleased by the sequence of events, Trace was angrier now than she was with Asmeus. Unfortunately, the livid kitsune had a target to aim all of that fury at. Now turned around, to look at the unknown plate wearer, Trace was out for blood. Demon lord or not, no one was to mess with her head and get away with it.

"You are angry, good. You will need that anger soon." They turned their seat to face towards the table, but Trace was not finished. Far from it. However, cutting her off, the butler looking one stepped in between the two. "Gran, don't. She will kill you."

He did not turn to face her, as he tossed something across the table. Rather unexpectedly, an image was projected from it, that hovered in the air. As Trace turned to glance at it, she felt all her breath leave her. Everything around her fell silent as a ringing noise blared in her head. Peoples' mouths were still moving as they pointed at different spots in the image.

"Trace –"

Someone was calling her name, but she could not hear them. Her world was too busy falling apart at the seams for her to pay anyone any mind.

"Trace!" Someone was shaking her now.

'When did Malice get over here?'

A little more coherent now, he helped her to her seat. She still wanted an answer about what happened, but it could wait. Everything could wait now.