Suddenly, I found myself in an unfamiliar town.
“Huh?” I grunted in dumbstruck surprise.
Buildings lined the thoroughfare, dotted by stalls and shops. People were coming and going. Wagons rattled along, their wheels kicking up dust clouds.
But it was all wrong. The architecture. The color and feel of the stalls. Even the designs and patterns of the clothes people were wearing. None of it was familiar to me.
That said... judging by the blatant stares we were getting from passersby, it felt more like we were the ones who were out of place. I couldn’t grok what about us seemed so strange, though.
I wore a shortsword on my belt and my entire outfit was peppered with jeweled amulets, but I was primarily dressed in a black cape and bandanna. I kinda stood out in such a bright and cheery place—or maybe brought it down—but that’s basically standard issue for a sorcerer.
Meanwhile, my companion was tall, blond, and handsome. Gourry didn’t exactly have the typical rough-and-tumble appearance of a swordsman, but his light mail and longsword were pretty on point.
Something beyond that must have pegged us as outsiders.
“Say, Lina... just throwing this out there...” Gourry muttered softly. “But is this not Latka City?”
“I was just wondering the same thing,” I replied, staring out into space.
“No, this is Latka.” An accented, aged voice behind us caused us to turn around. There sat an old man on a bench in front of a residence. “Very sorry to eavesdrop, but this is indeed Latka City. And who might you be, travelers? Your outfits are curious, and you seemed to appear out of nowhere. Whence have you come?”
“Whence...?” From Latka City, of course—or so I was about to say, but I stopped myself. It was the truth, of course, but, to be more precise, Gourry and I had left Latka City for an unknown destination before winding up here.
See, it’d all started earlier that afternoon...
Guuulp—hack-ack! Augh! Hack! I forced myself to swallow my juice instead of spitting it out, leading to a massive coughing fit.
“Whoa! You okay, Lina?” Gourry asked.
It took a good while and a good bit of sputtering before I could respond, but I eventually got the words out. “Ah, I’m... f-fine!” I said before turning to the elderly shop owner. “Anyway, sir!”
The big lug and I were currently in Latka, a town close to Zephyr City, the capital of Zephilia. We’d arrived just before noon with the intent to make it another couple of towns down the road before getting lodging for the night. We were just stopping in for an early lunch.
Since it was still technically morning, however, the eatery we’d ducked into was practically deserted. So, apparently with nothing better to do, the proprietor had decided to chat with us while we ate. I mostly let his spiel go in one ear and out the other... until a seemingly innocuous comment had led me to my whole near-choking debacle.
“So, let me get this straight...” I began. “A wanderer just waltzed into town and settled in at the mayor’s place?”
“Yep,” the eatery owner confirmed.
“And the mayor’s whole family’s been acting weird since then?”
“Yep.”
“And what did you say this wanderer’s name was again?”
“Norst,” the old man filled in.
“Hrmmmmm...” So I’d heard him right after all.
“Ring a bell, Lina?” Gourry asked.
“Sort of. Maybe. Could just be my imagination, but...” I replied vaguely. I didn’t have much to go on, and what I did have was the thinnest of gruel. More of a paranoid daydream. A total “boy, would it suck if I’m right” kind of thing. But if there was any chance my speculation was correct, it was a portent of really-not-good stuff to come.
A stranger cozies up to some VIP, and soon after, said VIP starts acting funny. That sort of intrigue was common enough. My gut reaction was that I had no obligation to stick my neck out over it—as ignoble a thought as that was, and despite the likelihood that it’d eventually spark some conflict, big or small, if I let it be.
And yet... It was one thing when intrigue was the machination of a vengeful, greedy, or power-hungry human. But what if it was a demon?
Demons were creatures that sought the destruction of the world. The mortal enemies of all living beings. Their leader was Ruby-Eye Shabranigdu, who was served by five lieutenants: Hellmaster, Dynast, Greater Beast, Deep Sea, and Chaos Dragon. Each of these lieutenants, in turn, had between one and four high-ranked demons known as Priests and Generals doing their dirty work.
Now, to most folks, this was all the stuff of legends. Some people didn’t believe they even really existed. But I, personally, had had no shortage of run-ins with their ilk.
One such run-in had been with a demon named Sherra, the General in service to Dynast. Over the course of our conflict, I’d learned that Dynast had three other Priest-slash-General underlings whose names were all derivative of his—Dynast Graushera. Apparently this was because Graushera saw his underlings as sacrificial pawns who weren’t worth the effort of a creative naming scheme.
So, dear reader... Do you see where I’m going with all this? I knew there were high-ranking demons out there with names akin to “Dai,” “Nast,” “Grau,” and “Sherra,” and I’d just heard there was some dude named Norst making things weird in town. That’s not too much of a stretch from “Nast,” now is it?
Plus, while lower-ranked demons took on easily identifiable monstrous forms, higher-ranked ones could appear indistinguishable from humans. That meant it was entirely possible for a powerful enough demon to take human form and infiltrate a city in the interest of some scheme or other.
Of course, there was the possibility that I was overthinking things. Maybe it was pure coincidence this wanderer had such a suspicious name. But then again, what if I looked the other way and happened to be right after all? What if it led to something even worse down the line? I was sure I’d regret not nipping it in the bud.
Moreover, Latka was close to my hometown. They were literally hitting me where I lived. And so...
“Could you tell me where to find this Norst fellow, sir?” I had to ask.
Ordinary—that was the only way to describe Latka City. Maybe the locals would object to that description, but if you asked ten travelers, I’d wager seven or eight would tell you the same.
Buildings lined the thoroughfare, dotted by stalls and shops. People were coming and going. Wagons rattled along, their wheels kicking up dust clouds.