The War Chronicles of a Little Demon (Youjo Senki alt)

[Sunshine Temple]

Well, that lunch date sure was interrupted by everyone short of the demon's main deity. Poor Tanya

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Heh, though one day that may just happen.
*DarkStar drops in and starts eating Tauria's lunch*

Also I'm not sure if it's just something I've forgotten but what is the source of Tanya's religious devotion here? As whilst calling her outright anti theistic is an exaggeration unless Being X was harsher than in canon, I can't see her as anything but neutrally respectful to the whole institution of faith invested in forces that are properly entities and it's practitioners.

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You are correct, Tanya (at least the manga version) was always respectful and fond of the nuns who raised her.

Here Taurai is even closer to Clementia, and that did have the state of that respect to it.

The respect grew in many ways as Tauria found herself playing the role of the pious War Heroine.

As that is one thing that Salaryman, Tanya, and Tauria are big on: adhering to social conventions and expectations.

 

[Rymu]

The respect grew in many ways as Tauria found herself playing the role of the pious War Heroine.

As that is one thing that Salaryman, Tanya, and Tauria are big on: adhering to social conventions and expectations.

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That much is perfectly in character for Tanya as I understand her, as she pulled it off in her canon 2nd life. Albeit it was partially due to the T95's everything and partially due to the fact she liked to shittalk Being X whilst at church. However it's really not what you've got written in this fic. As here she seems genuinely pious to the point where she's comforted by doing the caretaking for the little church she's responsible for and has an interest in a relic that has no motive besides being in awe of a relic.

I'm not gonna say a genuinely pious Tanya is impossible. It's just that I don't think one is likely without an active benefactor who is in direct communication with Tanya over her issues after Being X is gone. And I don't think this fic has really earned such character development for Tanya from what I can remember and what you're stating here. For DarkStar is explicitly missing and Tanya has only some maybe miracles to her name.

There's a snippet on the SB YS fic thread that has a pretty good start to a Tanya being on good terms with a deity but it takes a haggled over 3rd life setup that she was getting as compensation for Being X's shit anyways and a boon to counter some bad luck to get Tanya to start doing dinner prayers after initially promising herself that she'd just do something like a prayer or two a year as a sort of thank you card and maybe considering finding money on the ground to be something to thank the deity for.

 

[Sunshine Temple]

That much is perfectly in character for Tanya as I understand her, as she pulled it off in her canon 2nd life. Albeit it was partially due to the T95's everything and partially due to the fact she liked to shittalk Being X whilst at church. However it's really not what you've got written in this fic. As here she seems genuinely pious to the point where she's comforted by doing the caretaking for the little church she's responsible for and has an interest in a relic that has no motive besides being in awe of a relic.

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That she was doing it because she, correctly, knew it would please her mother, is kind of a major factor. And Tauria would have a historical interest, and again her mother has an interest in it, not to mention said relics do give her political power (with strings attached)

I'm not gonna say a genuinely pious Tanya is impossible. It's just that I don't think one is likely without an active benefactor who is in direct communication with Tanya over her issues after Being X is gone. And I don't think this fic has really earned such character development for Tanya from what I can remember and what you're stating here. For DarkStar is explicitly missing and Tanya has only some maybe miracles to her name.

There's a snippet on the SB YS fic thread that has a pretty good start to a Tanya being on good terms with a deity but it takes a haggled over 3rd life setup that she was getting as compensation for Being X's shit anyways and a boon to counter some bad luck to get Tanya to start doing dinner prayers after initially promising herself that she'd just do something like a prayer or two a year as a sort of thank you card and maybe considering finding money on the ground to be something to thank the deity for.

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I would have thought that amount of character growth and the relationship with her mother, would have at least had Tauria have a respect for the religion she has a very strong comforting familiarity with.

And one that she routinely wears a mask of to play the role of piety.

oh well.

 

[Rymu]

That she was doing it because she, correctly, knew it would please her mother, is kind of a major factor. And Tauria would have a historical interest, and again her mother has an interest in it, not to mention said relics do give her political power (with strings attached)

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This pragmatic edge or justification (or really any justifications) doesn't show up in the text all too strongly though. Tanya is very opinionated in her head, and whilst her justifications here are the right deflections they're much too weak and token.

I would have thought that amount of character growth and the relationship with her mother, would have at least had Tauria have a respect for the religion she has a very strong comforting familiarity with.

And one that she routinely wears a mask of to play the role of piety.

oh well.

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Respecting the religion and playing a role is different from being actually faithful. Which her actions are leaning more towards than I'd say is warranted given that Darkstar is notably absent and Uriel's influence began and ended in the prologue. Tanya knows that entities can be help or actively oppose her, but Darkstar is repeatedly noted to be absent. Tanya wouldn't take that sort of thing very kindly given her interactions with Being X but pragmatically might consider justifying anything beyond what she needs for her masks as building up stock in the event she does turn up.

 

[ScarletFox]

This pragmatic edge or justification (or really any justifications) doesn't show up in the text all too strongly though. Tanya is very opinionated in her head, and whilst her justifications here are the right deflections they're much too weak and token.

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Doesn't it though? It is pointed out that she doesn't even believe she'll receive an answer from the notably absent Daughter. The ritual and rites are something that in her first life would have been common with the Japanese Salaryman. Lots of ceremonies to do at various shrines and all. As much as the Japanese are not very religious themselves, they tend to fall over themselves in tradition. And in this life, the traditions dictate to her to do some performative prayer, and she's even taken up the Miko role of cleaning the chapel. Tauria using these rites as a gainful distraction to being suddenly thrust into a political situation she isn't nearly prepared for in what was supposed to be a nice holiday seems pretty on point.

That others see her (including you it seems) as very committed to the religion are kind of the point. Even if Tauria is more committed to it than she would like to admit due to being brought in the Church instead of a less theistic space, she still believes herself to be using this 'religion' as a shield, and to appear 'normal' as she thinks to define it.

 

[Sunshine Temple]

Doesn't it though? It is pointed out that she doesn't even believe she'll receive an answer from the notably absent Daughter. The ritual and rites are something that in her first life would have been common with the Japanese Salaryman. Lots of ceremonies to do at various shrines and all. As much as the Japanese are not very religious themselves, they tend to fall over themselves in tradition. And in this life, the traditions dictate to her to do some performative prayer, and she's even taken up the Miko role of cleaning the chapel. Tauria using these rites as a gainful distraction to being suddenly thrust into a political situation she isn't nearly prepared for in what was supposed to be a nice holiday seems pretty on point.

That others see her (including you it seems) as very committed to the religion are kind of the point. Even if Tauria is more committed to it than she would like to admit due to being brought in the Church instead of a less theistic space, she still believes herself to be using this 'religion' as a shield, and to appear 'normal' as she thinks to define it.

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Yah, my intent was to have Tauria take a common contemporary Japanese view to things like Shinto ceremonies and the like. She may not think she fully believes, but she does respect the cultural traditions and rites.

And as you note, how Tauria thinks of things, is one thing, but how people see her is another. Especially as with most people she doesn't go "Oh I don't believe in DarkStar!" and even her protests to her lack of piousness come off as massive humility

 

[Sunshine Temple]

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Diyu Demons verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.

Interim Fanfiction and Fanart

C&C as always is wanted.

Chapter 35: Cracking Facade

"I'm helping!" the little fox girl cried as she ran down the cavernous kitchen, a basket of eggs precariously held just above her head, close enough for the tips of her silver-furred ears to brush its wicker bottom.

Her fluffy little tail swayed happily as a pack of kits scrambled after her. Their eyes all focused on the pile of brown eggs heaped in the basket.

"Phalia! You be careful!" cried Brabant, my driver and seamstress, as she raced after her speeding daughter and the rest of the litter.

Looking up from the long counter, I began to muster up my professional dignity, preparing to commit myself to helping my driver calm the fracas. My heart, perhaps, wasn't quite in it; my tail was swishing with open amusement.

"Does she need any help?" I asked Reinhild, who hadn't looked up from the recipe book as Phalia darted past. She was far too occupied in measuring out the appropriate amount of sifted flour without packing the stuff down to the point that more sifting would be required.

"My niece can handle it," my head maid remarked, her own tails and ears swiveling to and fro as she tracked the kits racing around the door to the cheese cave and then back up one of the kitchen's two main aisles.

The manor house's kitchens were a large but functional affair that butted up kitty-corner to the manor house proper and made part of one side of the compound's central courtyard, and had it right by the servant's quarters and their mess hall. Almost an annex in its own right, the kitchens were an obvious addition but built with space for chimneys, pantries, cold storage rooms, smokehouses, prep tables, and more.

As both required considerable water and heat, the kitchens were directly adjacent to the bathhouse. Surprisingly, the baths were quite well-appointed and required only a little work to get back to full functionality, with only the heaters of the steam room providing any real trouble. Trouble that was very much worth the… well, trouble.

Even I had to admit that taking a dip in the progression of baths, starting from warm water, then going to steam, and then cold water was relaxing. If the baths themselves failed to leach away all of my tension, there was always the small tepidarium with its massage tables. Conventions of physical contact aside, I preferred the occasional massage of my weary shoulders, executed to perfection by a gloved kitsune, to mucking about with all of the traditional oil and scrappers. Neither of which, it turned out, worked particularly well on my feathered wings.

Baths aside, the kitchen rooms represented a pleasant intersection of pragmatism and aesthetics. While built with an undeniable eye towards efficiency, the multi-roomed suite remained rather airy and well-lit. Altogether, the kitchen reminded me of a more tasteful and luxurious version of my old orphanage's kitchen, somehow crossed with the pragmatic, yet expansive, floorplan of a large barracks cafeteria. Not at all like the cramped confines of a ship's galley, where every spare square foot was worth its weight in gold. Regardless of the architectural slight against the Fleet, the kitchen remained a functional space intended to make food assembly and prep into an efficient process.

While the low demands of many slow years had left the kitchens cold, the sudden repopulation of the estate had stoked the fires of its many ovens anew, and now all were operating at full activity. The busyness of the situation was in no way diminished by the pack of rambunctious young kitsune kits rampaging underfoot.

"We do need those eggs," Mother Clementia said, her slight frown at odds with her own swishing tail. Like the rest of us, she wore an apron over her clothes and had changed into a more plain habit. She had been cubing fruit, periodically transporting the chunks into a juice press where a kit waited eagerly for the opportunity to squeeze all of the juice into a waiting bowl.

"I'm getting them closer!" Brabant shouted from across the kitchens. The other servants and the hired cooks looked up and, wisely, stepped back from the line of fire.

A trio of local girls who were here for the day to help with the dinner party laughingly encouraged the kitsune to run even faster as the kits sprinted past their butcher's blocks. The dark-haired sisters raised their knives in salute to the runners, a gorey honor-guard with bloody tribute, before going back to dismembering a swine.

"I have the eggs! I am bringing them!" Phalia cried as she shook the basket. One of the brown eggs slipped from the basket, but before it could hit the tile floor, the rest of the litter had pounced. The kits scrambled and pounced on each other, contending for the speckled brown treasure that danced precariously from paw to clutching paw.

Without looking back at the chaos in her wake, Phalia continued on with Orphic concentration and solemnity, her stumbling sprint meandering towards us. Half of the kits rose from the fracas to follow her while three of the little ones fought over the spoils of war.

Brabant seemed torn between breaking up the tussle and following her daughter who most assuredly would deliver the eggs to us, and was not about to abscond with a veritable treasure haul.

"A bit of help, Uwe?" Reinhild asked the silver-furred fox, appearing at her shoulder with a look of ever present quiet concern that seemed oddly familiar.

Uwe, who, like Mother Clementia, wore an apron over a sleek uniform that was closer to Brabant's chauffeur pants and collared tunic combination than his cousin's maid uniform, nodded. "As you wish." Uwe turned to me with a tilt of the head. "Shall I give the little delinquents a thrashing, my Lady?"

I looked up at the towering older kitsune and gave him a baleful stare through narrowed eyes. "Phalia is doing as we bid her."

"She is dilly dallying and running all around the kitchens," Reinhild observed while Clementia put a hand over her mouth, poorly hiding the smile threatening to overtake it. "She's certainly doing something, but helping…? And, even if she is, what about the rest?"

"Perhaps give the other little ones some tasks," I offered as Phalia ran towards us, now proudly thrusting the basket before her. "There's vegetables to peel or if they want eggs, there will be a boiled and curried dish made for the gustatio course."

Uwe clicked his heels before bowing in a way that made my hackles rise and my tail stiffen. It had to be a coincidence that VioletBlood had found a Germanic family of kitsune to be my personal servants.

It had to be.

Moving to take care of the quarrelsome kits, Uwe stepped to one side to let the flouncing procession pass. Despite one having gotten the egg into her mouth, her compatriots were still trying to claim the prize.

"Countess, I brought the eggs!" Phalia claimed as she almost rammed the basket into my side. "Now make the melonbread! Please!"

"Shall I have them get the sugar?" Reinhild inquired, her expression utterly deadpan.

Horror crossed my face, both at the mental image of the kits – heads crammed fully into bags of confectioner's sugar, frosted faces tearing open the cans of cane sugar, and the resulting chaos – and at the more immediate concerns of trying to grab and secure a basket that had been clumsily thrust out into space far from my waiting hands.

"Thank you, but maybe you can get that Reinhild; you know the kind of sugar we'll need for the recipe. Brabant, can you have the other kits go with Uwe? I believe he has something fun for them to help with as well."

The two fox maids nodded while Phalia stomped a foot. "What about me?"

I gave her a smile as I put the basket on the counter. "Since you brought the eggs, you can help us make the sugared melon bread."

At that, Clementia gave me a smile. I shrugged a quick reply in return. Soon enough, there would be far more little ones in the manor house: my nieces, girls from the orphanage, and Visha's own little sisters.

"Does it have real melon?" Phalia asked as she tried to peer up onto the counter, thwarted by her diminutive height. I could keenly sympathize with her clear frustration.

"No," I said, before catching myself and looking around for an apple box for the kit to stand on.

Clementia gave me a questioning look. She had spent the last half hour filling a rather large bowl with fresh melon juice.

'Oh… right," I bit back a grimace, focusing on finding an apple crate the girl could use as a step stool to help bury my momentary embarrassment, "Yes, sorry Phalia. This bread does use winter-melons. I got it confused with another recipe."

"Which one?" she asked after stepping up to survey the readied ingredients, mixing bowls, and platters.

"Another bread recipe?" Clementia asked.

"What's it called?" the kit demanded, brimming with the boundless curiosity of youth.

I hesitated as Reinhild returned with the sugar and the rest of the recipe's ingredients. "Melonpan," I admitted; there was no need for secrecy. My preference for Paymorish and other Japanese inspired culinary styles was already well-known.

"Does that one have melons?" the young fox asked.

"Yes, does it?" Reinhild inquired.

"Uh.... no," I admitted as I double-checked the recipe and started cracking eggs to add to the flour Mother had already portioned out.

"Then why's it called melon... um... pam?" Phalia asked. The other two women looked at me with similar questions.

"Pan," I corrected softly, "and it has to do with how the top of the buns are scored. Reinhild, can you add the sugar?"

Phalia tilted her head, ears perking up. "The tops?"

"I'll show you." I offered once the batter was made. It was a rather large amount, but it could be portioned out, and we could each knead part of it. That would be okay, right?

"Oh, we'll make double melonbread?" Phalia cheered.

"I suppose we will," I agreed with a smile, and started instructing Phalia on how to kneed her portion.

The work passed easily, but Phalia seemed impatient when it came time to let the dough rest. Her tail flicked as she tried to will the bread to rise faster in the two large towel-covered bowls.

"We can help make the sugar frosting," I offered, which seemed to perk her up. I even took the risk of letting her lick the spatula once the frosting was ready.

The end result was a very giddy kitsune who was eager to run off to the rest of the litter and brag about her experience, and likely to snag some more eggs along the way. I did tell her that she would need to come back when it was time to make the buns so she could score the tops in the crisscross pattern that gave melonpan its name.

Reinhild smiled as she watched the girl leave. "You don't have to stay either, Ma'am. We've got plenty of help, and will be ready for the dinner."

"I'm not underfoot am I?" I quietly asked.

The maid shook her head. "You're fine, and... this is helping you?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"I'm not that nervous." I caught myself as my tail curled. "This is the first formal event I will attend as the countess of this county, and between showing myself off, I have to convince all the town movers and shakers that I will listen to their problems and find some solution for this whole railway thing. Nothing to be nervous about at all."

"It is a good thing you're doing," Mother Clementia said. "What about your Vs? Perhaps they could help occupy your time?"

I shook my head dismissing thoughts on if mother had a not-so-hidden meaning to her statement. "But then I'd be in their way."

Clementia looked to Reinhild. "They're busy?"

"Yes, Sister. Baroness VioletBlood is organizing things like the decorations, tables, chairs, and, oh yes, the drinks and refreshments."

"And Visha's making sure the grounds are set, with the garages and stables and the like," I said, thankful for their help.

Clementia smiled, violet eyes shining with pride. "You've done so well."

"I mean it's just organizing a big party; I've faced worse," I assured.

"I know, but that's..." Clementia slowly pulled me into a soft and warm embrace. "I'm just happy you've found such wonderful people in your life, people who make you happy."

I purred a bit and moved my own arms. I could feel my maid's light amusement and then heard the scrambling of little feet.

"I'm not too late am I?" Phalia said as she came running back, tail madly wagging.

"Oh no," I assured, pulling myself from Mother Clementia's arms, and ignoring the brief pang of loss that came with it. Like dragging oneself from a comfortable bed on a cold morning, some sacrifices had to be made.

The young fox climbed up onto the applebox. "Is it time to make the melon bread? Can I spread the sugar on it?"

I gave the young kit a soft sigh and ruffled her hair. "Why not?"

+++++

"Thank you for coming; it was wonderful to have you over," crooned VioletBlood in the voice ubiquitous to hostesses of a certain class as she waved a smiling farewell to an exiting councilwoman from her station at the front doors of my manor house.

Said front entrance opened through large double doors onto a fair-sized courtyard thankfully enclosed from the weather. Glassed over by the buildings surrounding it, the courtyard sported the requisite fountain which stood proud in the center of the circular drive that promenaded into and out from the mostly symbolic gatehouse standing opposite the main doors. Flanking the courtyard to the gatehouse's left were the main kitchens, servants' quarters, storage rooms, and some of the guest accommodations. Opposite that stretch of utility buildings were the mostly disused stables, the garages, and a connecting portico with a spur leading to the chapel.

Fortunately, the sky beyond the glass had cleared as the sun went down, and while the night was crisp, there was no rain and, if the windsock up on the rooftop were any indication, little wind, thus affording a view from the courtyard of the handful of stars, moons, and glittering planets capable of overcoming the light streaming from the windows of the main house.

Not that any rain or wind would have mattered to my guests, not under the aegis offered by the finest products of Bovitar's glassworks. I'd even managed to acquire some freshly installed replacement panes, but the fair weather meant everyone was able to make it here in time regardless. The column of cars and carriages lining the courtyard had steadily decreased as the night wound down and our guests had taken their leave.

"It was a wonderful evening!" the councilwoman enthused, with an aristocratic affection gamely trying to match VioletBlood's own. "You simply must tell me where you got that mulsum you served! The wine half was sweeter than I was frankly expecting, while still remaining adequately musky, but it went well with the honey half. Were the bees that made it fed on lilacs?"

"Oh, that must be the bottle at promulsis?" VioletBlood asked as if she hadn't committed the wine list to memory hours in advance, referring to the first course of the night. It was less of a formal course and more of a cocktail hour where guests could mingle and get to know each other before taking their reclined seats in preparation for the meal service.

"That delightful vintage is actually from Mursam! We brought it back after serving the Imperatrix, and, yes, I understand that the vinters use only local grapes and honey. The honey is actually from the same winery, you know! Quite synergistic, a vineyard with an in-house apiary. I'm sure the bees involved help pollinate the grapes as well as feeding on meadow flowers or something equally pastoral." On that dismissive note, VioletBlood waved away her self-manufactured cloud of trivia before favoring the councilwoman with a bright and conspiratorial smile that radiated pointed sincerity against the local society matron's manufactured joy. "Though, that is also the vineyard where my Countess gets her vinewood rods, you know..."

I gave my fiancee a quelling glare. Predictably, it bounced off VioletBlood's armor of impervious, and imperious, confidence without leaving a mark, much like said rods.

"Oh, to be a young and discipline-minded centurion! Countess, your fiancee is a lovely young woman, don't keep her on too tight of a leash," the councilwoman gushed, her tone unctuous as she turned from me back to LoveBlood. I thought I detected a note of relief in her voice at an excuse to shy away from the Baroness's fixed and pointed enthusiasm. "The first table was very… hearty, and the wassail and sugared melon-bread were a delightful end to the night! You have shown such a youthful and yet utilitarian meal. And such an adorable crisscross pattern on top of the bread!"

Adorable? Adorable...!

"I am very proud of her," I said, smiling pleasantly and very much not gritting my teeth as VioletBlood squeezed herself closer to me. The petticoats to my redhead's gown threatened to consume me, not to mention the way her lacy top was overflowing my arm. It was a good distraction to pull my mind away from the indignant fury blossoming in my chest.

Visha stood on my other side in a sleek evening dress with a velvet bodice and matching vest. While she did not cling limpet-like to me, her posing and warm smile made it obvious that she was playing up her part as well.

Loath to disappoint my Vs, I tried to keep the charm up as well, forcing joviality into my voice with all the coercion of a pistol's snubbed nose grinding into the back of a skull. "It was just fantastic to have you over for our little soiree, Madam Councilor. Hopefully, we can move forward with less… unpleasantness."

"Less unpleasantness?" the councilwoman mouthed, not quite giving voice to her incredulity. Despite this, the intent of her message was clear as she turned to give the drow matriarch's waiting carriage a meaningful look. With its heavy curtains pulled tight even now, well after sunset, the silver and ebony conveyance brooded from its place among the less distinguished carriages lining the courtyard's drive. Between its dark lacquer, the intricate carvings thrumming with enchantments, and the vast cart-spider squatting between its traces, the drow vehicle was unrivaled in its exotically eye-catching appeal.

The spider had come as something of a… surprise. I had never before encountered an arachnid with a shoulder height comparable to a Clydesdale, but light conversation during the reception had informed me that the creature had very good traction on the cold ground. Besides, I had been assured, the breed's vigor in the winter weather, as well as its great size, was proof that the steed had vanishingly little in common with lesser spiders, and that attacks by properly attended cart-spiders on sapients were quite rare. Despite all that, the draft animal remained an eight-legged horror whose fangs and eight glittering eyes endowed its large abdomen with an unmistakable menace a match for the carriage it pulled.

"Oh, Lady Silk is adorable," Visha gushed. "The grooms were spoiling her during the dinner. Her driver even let the kits ride her!"

I blinked at the mental image of young kitsune riding the giant spider-creature. "Did anyone get pictures?" I asked.

"I certainly hope they did!" the councilwoman laughed, with what sounded like genuine sincerity. Maybe she found the giant man-eating spiders cute? Well, it shouldn't come as a terrible shock to me that these crazy cannibal demons found common cause with enormous arachnids. "It would be a most amusing sight, a fox atop a spider! Ah, I suppose we should count ourselves blessed that the drow are so… cooperative."

"It's all about finding the right incentives," I stated, recalling the huntress RainsFord Songstress's ominous assertions.

But, those were neither here nor there, and I still had my role to play. So, I bowed my horns and smiled again at the politico. "Thank you for your own cooperation; I am trying my best to accomplish as much as I can with the limited time I have here. Your assistance is greatly appreciated."

"As is your humility, a match for the humility of your other mother." The councilwoman's expression softened, perhaps in a moment of rare sincerity, as she looked up at Mother Clementia, who was also seeing off people.

"Indeed, Countess," the councilwoman continued bowing her horns to us and looked up at the manor house. Just inside, the household staff, minus the valets and grooms of course, and my own maids, were lined up, having seen the guests out. "It does seem that you have taken our Duchess's teachings well."

"I try," I said, affecting a casual air. After coming back from the county seat, the afternoon and evening had been a hectic storm of preparations for a party of merely a couple dozen. Calibrating just the right level of luxury had been very trying, as I had to consider my own social, religious, and military status, not to mention the same of all my guests.

Thankfully, I'd had all the help that could be offered by the combined forces of Reinhild, Alexi, my sister, VioletBlood, and of course, an entire troop of servants.

"So, I believe congratulations are in order for your achievement in creating a more... accessible fare," the councilwoman said, returning to form with an insult poorly hidden behind honeyed words. "It should certainly put our more… down to earth guests at ease," she added before going to her own motorcar. "Tah, Countess!"

Much as a caustic retort bubbled up in my throat, I held my tongue with an ease of practice born from many meetings with Upper Management. Be the hierarchy corporate or military, one didn't climb far up it if they snapped at every petty insult or obstinate buffoon. If nothing else, you'd quickly run out of time to get anything else done. Though, by the way VioletBlood squeezed my arms, I could tell my Baroness was only barely holding herself back from making a comment about county councilwomen who put on airs by using county assets to ape at having a personal driver and towncar. I should be happy that my fiancee had decided to not take Offense at the other woman's actions and challenged her here and now.

"It's almost over," Visha murmured behind a bright, somewhat glassy smile.

I nodded, drew renewed energy from the prospect that soon the night would be over, and returned to the task of seeing the last of the guests out. Soon, thankfully, the drive around the fountain would stand empty and I could wipe the forced smile from my face and collapse into bed. Though, I knew that was a lie.

"Bad form," VioletBlood murmured disdainfully from behind a bright smile once the councilwoman's, or more accurately the county's, motorcar began to drive off. "But what can one expect from a jumped up tally-woman, whose sole qualification is her skill at selling empty platitudes to nervous guilders? Not to mention, her accomplishments in lording over her lessers from the palisade of her out-of-date dresses and gaudy vanity glasses."

Visha put a hand over her mouth and managed to keep her tail from swishing too much.

I simply raised an eyebrow.

Reading my skeptical attitude, LoveBlood purred. "I have standards, my Countess. It's poor sport to badmouth those who aren't players in the great game and shows a lack of imagination in the art of cutting remarks."

"Does it now…?" I replied slowly, still more than a little suspicious of her sudden antipathy for the councilor, given what I knew of my Baroness's habits.

"Of course!" she insisted energetically, wings puffing up in her fervor, "Why, it'd be like claiming oneself to be a great game hunter, when all one ever does is shoot squirrels with a lance battery! What kind of lady could take pride in merely crushing rodents under foot when any true demoness knows that our glory lies in the skies? Indulging in petty cruelties is a weakness of character! Such munitions should be spared for deserving targets."

"Fair enough," I said, acceding to her superior social acumen and bowing my horns.

Stepping backwards as we continued to wave our last goodbyes, the tall wooden double doors came to a thumping close, shielding us from the night and whatever strays might still be lingering in the courtyard. Turning around, I faced the foyer where the servants waited. I frowned, not seeing Mother or Lares, but pressed on. Their absence was no reason to be rude to the staff or to hold them to their stations after a tiresome evening. "Good job everyone. I think we survived that dinner party."

For a moment, I hesitated, wires forged across several all too different yet all too similar lifetimes crossed awkwardly, and I nearly curtseyed. Fortunately, before I made a fool of myself, I remembered that I was wearing pants. The dark outfit with its matching jacket and vaguely military cut was preferable to a gown, and thankfully my Vs were more than willing to let me wear it.

There was a weary cheer from the staff; thus dismissed, most of them wasted no time and dispersed. Reinhild approached and curtsied. "Ma'ams, if it pleases you, refreshments are waiting in the drawing room."

I felt a bit ill. Despite the meal only having two official courses, first table and second table, there had also been two appetizers, the aforementioned light refreshments whilst mingling of the promulsis and then the gustatio enjoyed while I reclined with my Vs playing full hostess. Not to mention the soup and dessert courses. The idea of eating still more food seemed like a gluttonous indulgence at this point, and might actually risk the buttons on my jacket.

"Lead on," VioletBlood said before I could find a way out of Reinhild's thoughtfulness, taking my arm and wrapping her tail around mine. Clearly, she had her own hedonistic ideas of a nightcap and my presence was integral in them.

Forming a small procession, we went down the hallway and past the dining room, where a handful of waitresses were still bussing away plates, serving trays, and glasses.

Gibbs was waiting by the drawing room door, sipping from a small glass of a familiar dark red liquor. She and the other Ritualista had found very logical, sensible, but ultimately, polite, excuses to avoid the dinner party. However, demonstrating the true wisdom of the Optio Syndicate, they had most assuredly managed to finagle helpings of the same food and drink being served at the party they had so neatly dodged.

I did not begrudge them their good fortune; exemption from such dog and hellpony shows was a cherished treat in the Legions, and one they had more than earned.

"How was your evening?" I asked after waving off her salute.

"High-quality food eaten in peace and quiet almost makes up for dealing with your sister flouncing around my fruit cellar," Gibbs replied acerbically, "almost..."

I let the "my" comment slide and focused on the issue at hand. "RedWing didn't take apart any of the suits, did she?"

Years of long-suffering experience with officer peccadilloes and noble eccentricities went into a single sour expression that twisted across Gibbs's lean face. "Barely."

"Oh?" I reluctantly pressed, really not wanting to hear more while feeling like it was my duty to handle the situation now, before any real discontent could bite.

"Doctrix RedWing has, at the very least, a lick of sense in her head. No full tear downs or daft demands, but damned if your sister wasn't prying and poking into anything that didn't 'technically' cross any red lines," Gibbs groused. "I have enough work on my plate already with certifying a trio of suits, not to mention making them ready for a new refit standard. The new power systems are an improvement but MuArc made changes to the operating procedures. I don't have time to indulge anybody's curiosity."

"I'll have a word with her," I assured.

Gibbs managed to make taking a sip from her glass express skepticism about how efficacious my word would be.

"At least you're no longer complaining about how your mask is still being worked on," VioletBlood offered.

I looked up at her and narrowed my eyes. The redhead's tail stilled. Visha preemptively and unfairly winced. "I do not complain," I firmly stated. "Besides, I have been quite patient. Progress is being made! Honestas and SapphireFiligree finished their work! Surely,MuArc must nearly be done performing the final calibrations needed for the fitting. It will be sent here soon, I'm sure of it! It must be. I need that mask here, I can't have just two active suits! I mean... I want to fly too."

Part of me was idly curious as to how Honestas had repaired my mask. The cracks were numerous and wide. But part of me was just as worried that the repairs would be gaudy or simply smooth the faceplate over. Honestly, I wasn't sure which would be worse.

"We can wait for you. It is frustrating, but isn't it part of some early holiday present?" Visha added soothingly, sensing my disquiet.

"It's not that hard," Gibbs murmured, not particularly helpfully. "The cosmetic parts of the face-plate shouldn't have much effect on the instrumentation, display, and survival systems. I could do the calibration tests and set up the flight trials myself."

She was right. Why was I getting so worked up about a mere cosmetic affectation? It was just a mask.

"And I could help," Doctrix RedWing declared as she glided towards us, her purple gown swishing and bobbing.

"Ma'am," Gibbs said, using that word as a shield deployed by lower ranks against their superiors since time immemorial.

Caught up in the professor's silken wake was someone in that awkward age that bridged the gulf between older broodlings and young women. She had curly pastel red hair, light purple skin, and elegant wings with extra glossy dark blue feathers that fanned out behind her.

As we both used the same shampoo and wing-care regimen, I could do little to fault the young lady's grooming habits. Her wings certainly didn't measure up to the likes of Fabia's, or even Invidia's lustrous coat, but given the girl's youth I suppose that was to be expected.

The woman's green eyes practically glowed with a haughty intensity that mostly covered her apprehension. The family resemblance between Lady LavenderFang and Baroness VioletBlood was blatantly obvious.

"Cousin," VioletBlood smiled as she pulled herself closer to me.

I kept my irritation to myself. While I could understand LoveBlood's pride, which was one of her defining features, it was somewhat... unseemly for my fiancee to lord her relationship status over to someone several years her junior. Especially as she had done the same thing only hours before when LavenderFang had arrived at the estate.

"Cousin. Countess," LavenderFang bowed her horns to us.

"Are we going to chew the tallow out here or will we withdraw to the drawing room?" RedWing inquired.

Diffidently, Reinhild stepped aside and opened the door into the drawing room, revealing an intimate interior, especially when compared to the cavernous dining room. The room was cosy with a collection of low tables, comfortable leather chairs, and shelves partially full of books and curios. The emptied shelves were enough to show that the previous Countess of Larium had taken a few of her favorite books and knick-knacks with her before she... vacated the position. Though, it was still a more public-facing place than the manor's study or the reading room in my personal chambers.

Sadly, I had yet to acquire replacement knick-knacks to occupy the shelves. My few decorations were back on Mursam, and what I had brought with me personally barely filled a single shelf in the private writing room adjacent to my personal chambers upstairs. At least the study, with its connected library across the main hall down by the solarium, was serving as a reference and soon-to-be map room.

If I could survive another decade and a half in the Legions to safely retire, this would all be mine... mine to share with my Vs, should I manage to keep them alive through all the hells High Command and fate will demand of us.

I managed well enough with the 203rd during the bloodiest war in that humanity's history to date, I told myself. Technically, House BlackSky isn't even engaged in a proper war yet. We should be fine.

I pointedly avoided thinking about just how much could change in fifteen years, or how I had not personally survived said war.

The fire merrily burning in the drawing room's hearth added enough heat to make the room cozy and pushed back the faint cigar smell from the previous Countesses. For a moment, I had a flashback of smoky rooms full of imperial officers indulging in their vices. Fortunately, while the officers of my current life were hardly unwilling to smoke, due to a demon's more sensitive noses, smoking rooms were generally considered courteous.

Another two maids were already in the room. Their tails flicked as they busied about with a tea service, coffee carafe, liquors, and a platter of petit fours. I had relied on Reinhild and Loveblood to augment my estate with more assistants, and at this point it seemed I had hired something close to Reinhild's whole extended family. They all did good work, and it wasn't as if the manor did not have the space to spare, so having them bring their kits around and give them their own room for the dinner was an appropriate reward.

Sitting in an armchair sized for his frame, I had to admit that Lares looked surprisingly dapper in his pinstriped tunic and tooled belt. He sipped from a teacup that looked like an espresso shot glass in his immense hands and held a tiny plate with an even tinier chocolate pastry added to the image.

Amiably chatting, Mother Clementia sat in a chair across from him. "Hello, daughter. Please come and join us."

A weight lifted from my shoulders as I entered the drawing room.

I sat down on a low-backed loveseat next to mother's chair with my Vs taking their places on either side of me. I stretched my wings a bit to let them hang over the seat-back. The others in the hallway, including my Seneschal Alexi, filed in, the maids flitting around between them and pressing drinks and refreshments into unresisting hands. The informal air of the room was, in part, aided by the light enchantments carved into the hardwood wainscoting, designed to fill the space with an aura of general good-feeling. Even Lares seemed more at ease in the well-crafted wooden room.

Taking a moment to enjoy the coffee presented before me, I watched as everyone settled down. Only a bare fraction of the people who had been at the dinner had followed me to this gathering in the drawing room, but while those at the dinner had been my guests, these were people I trusted... and also VioletBlood's cousin.

After sipping her herbal bitters and fortified wine digestif, my fiance put down her sherry glass. "I would say that was an informative party, no? I, for one, learned that the ranchers actually have some valid concerns. Thankfully, they also seem amenable to some sort of negotiation. And are eager for shorter drives and quicker transport to market. What will be done to keep livestock from wandering on the tracks, I wonder?"

I frowned at the mental image of a cow evaporating into red mist. "That is a… concern. The cost in lost livestock alone would be far from insignificant without some sort of measures to keep grazing herds well away from the tracks, and that's not even getting into the potential hazards of train accidents."

RedWing crossed her legs. "Your party was a good start, but you should know that the guests only represented certain interests, not the full strata of the county's movers and shakers. Still, whatever they mentioned to you tonight should be good enough to get a sense of the winds. A start, at least."

"I didn't say that I had gleaned a full understanding of all possible complications, but I would say that tonight has certainly put me on the path to that goal," VioletBlood smugly said. "BrightWoods Lumber didn't send anyone tonight for starters, and there's a lot of the larger freeholders whose agendas remain mysterious, but for a first foray we have a good idea of who requires convincing and just what sort of coin they'll need to be paid in. All neatly noted down on my list, and the rest will follow suit soon enough."

I gave a glassy smile. Made with my seneschal's help, "the list" consisted of the five town councilwomen, the sheriff, the newspaper editor, the local church mother, the heads of the major lumber concerns, several of the major local ranchers, the guild mistresses, various village mayors, and some other noteworthies. "And your conclusions?"

"Do you want the maids to bring in the chalkboard from the study so I can put out the whole list? I'll note that we've got a lot more people who are more neutral, or at least willing to be friendly or suck up for proper concessions. Few are hostile to you, but there's more who are worried about the railway."

I rubbed my forehead. "Yes, I picked up on that. The lumber concerns seem inclined to help, but all of the others uniformly want the rail lines to be near their lands while not actually crossing their domains."

"So it goes. People want the convenience of the railroad but without all the noise, loss of land, and potential danger." RedWing sipped her brandy.

"But striking a balance won't be impossible, I think. Given some deft negotiation and perhaps a few incentives spiced with cajoling, we might yet reach a desirable settlement. Or, as My Countess might say, a mutually beneficial arrangement," VioletBlood teased. "But if we do, it will only be after we all put in the work necessary to sort out the notables of your county."

I frowned, wondering what kind of cajoling Lady RainsFord or Miss Crow might get up to if the various residents of Larium County proved intractable.

"My people are skeptical, but today's route change to avoid much of our lands will allay many of their concerns," Lares's sonorous voice intoned.

"But not all of them?" I asked.

"Many would prefer no railroad at all, but we know how industrious your folk are." Lares gave us all a pointedly unimpressed look over his cup. "As compromises go, it could be worse..."

I inclined an inquisitive eyebrow.

My seneschal, Alexi, cleared her throat. "The concern among the Forest People is if they compromise and lease out part of their ancestral lands this one time, then what about ten years down the line? Twenty? Forty?"

"The elders fear that their holdings could be nibbled into nothingness, paper ownership of paper forests, and we will be driven into the mountains... or worse, to the cities," Lares looked into his cup. "Well… I say driven, but I don't think any of us expect it would be so peaceful."

"Meanwhile, the drow won't even pretend to entertain the prospect of being given new lands in compensation," Alexi reminded us.

"Not that I even had lands elsewhere to offer," I sighed.

"Mother does," RedWing stated, grinning at my discomfort. "Not that that helps. No one here is willing to trade relatively green and fertile forested lands for the rocky edges of the Lesser Romwells."

I frowned in thought. "Are they truly that worthless, though? The foothills of the Romwells, I mean. Many places have at least something of value…"

RedWing laughed. "Oh, little sister, Mother has far more fertile lands, but she'd need a reason to offer up anything of any real value to her, wouldn't she?" She paused, a painted nail on her lip as she reconsidered, "Well... maybe she might be willing to sacrifice a few of her choicer fiefs to help you… She can, after all, be quite generous."

The professor's presence was proof enough of that. "No, it's not that. I was thinking. Mountain terrain might just as well have valuable mineral deposits as it could have bedrock too solid to easily excavate and water tables so low that you couldn't flood a wine cellar. I wonder... has anyone done a survey of the stability or depth of the Drow's tunnels? That sort of information could be quite useful, should we find an occasion to assemble a compensation package for a land swap…"

Lares gave me a dim look as he put his cup down, "Do you really think the Drow of all people would allow outsiders that kind of privileged information, Countess?"

"I didn't mean to pry," I said, taking his warning and backing off, "I was thinking… how am I to offer them an acceptable trade for what they have, if I don't even know the value of their current holdings?"

"That's probably on purpose," Lares grumbled, "if you had a mutual understanding of what each other could offer and wanted in return, then you might actually be able to play fair."

I frowned, but nodded in acquiescence, "I see your point. Still… good lands for tunneling and making large caverns has to be worth something to them, right?"

"I thought the railway wasn't going to cut through their village?" LavenderFang asked, glancing at her cousin for confirmation.

"I told you we should have brought a big map down here," VioletBlood said as she leaned her head on my shoulder.

"We don't even have a big map yet!" I cried.

I was still rather annoyed about that. I'd been really looking forward to having one again, but it turned out that getting a high quality and accurate map to this region at such a scale was far more complicated than it seemed.

"I've commissioned several; they should ship from a printer in Bovitar in two days," Reinhild assured.

"That wasn't the issue," LavenderFang gave an imperious pout. "Why are you so accommodating to the knife-ears?"

I gave the young noblewoman's own pointed ears a dry look. "They have holdings beyond their village," I carefully stated. "The land leases they can demand for water crossings in the northern part of the county are a major complication by itself. Or DarkStar's Blood, they could build the bridges themselves and set up tolls instead. Yes... the Drow would prefer a toll." I thought, the idea gaining appeal in my mind. "A lease cedes over the land, but at toll concedes transit. And by building their own bridge, the Drow would showcase their skills in stonework and construction, without revealing the secrets of their holdfasts."

As I had VioletBlood make a note of that idea, LavenderFang gave a petulant sigh.

"You're thinking of offering them land to mine and excavate?" Mother Clementia asked.

"If they can't dig very deep here, then maybe a deal can be made for more lands," I commented. "Particularly if those lands came with mineral rights."

"Unless they're satisfied with the caverns they have here. It's clear that they have enough hatchery space to grow their steeds," my mother countered.

"Those spiders need a lot of fodder, mostly tunnel grubs," Lares pointed out as his cup was refilled.

"I heard those are a staple food, and if prepared right can be good but... what do the grubs feed on?" Visha inquired while VioletBlood gave a disdainful sniff, which her cousin copied an instant later.

"They're... tolerable, I suppose. Proper preparation and the right spices can help," Lares shrugged. "And mostly the grubs are fed on detritus, other plant litter, and other compost and biomass. Tending those beetles isn't glamorous work, but it does give them another food supply."

I nodded along. "What about mushrooms?"

Lares sipped his refilled cup. "Aye, I asked around and they do sell a bunch of fodder mushrooms, bulk stuff that may not be your interest."

I shrugged. "I'm still working out a business plan."

"They also have some specialty mushrooms used as spices, medicinal and recreational. However..." His massive shoulders rose and fell. "I doubt they'd be willing to share the cultivation of such profitable strains."

"They're mushrooms – can't you just... take their product and harvest the spores?" LavenderFang asked.

"Depends," Lares grunted and waggled a large hand. "Processed product, the dried and ground variety, are unlikely to produce viable spores. Even if you get viable spores, the real cash crops for the Drow aren't the kind of mushrooms you can just toss in a dark pit and drip feed. Half the value in them is the particular cultivation method they've figured out. One they take care to keep secret."

"We'll put a pin in that. Maybe they have distribution issues," I sighed.

"Do you think the drow will be a problem?" Visha asked.

"They could be," I nodded, thanking her for moving the conversation along. "RainsFord is already working on them but that might not be productive."

"The hunter?" LavenderFang looked to her cousin, who nodded.

"Ah, more of the... 'experts' the railroad hired," Mother Clementia frowned as she brushed my feathers. I leaned back, relishing the contact. "Still it is good that you're looking out for the people of your county."


"It is just a matter of sensible politics," RedWing explained. "Upsetting a certain percentage of the locals has the risk of forming long lasting grudges, perhaps even giving rise to organized factions who could make things difficult for a long time to come."

"And we do want to enjoy your county," VioletBlood purred.

I smiled contentedly, but LavenderFang cleared her throat and bowed to my syster

The professor then gave an approving nod to the youngest noblewomen in the room. "True, Lady and Baroness, but this is why you have outsiders come in to do the dirty work. They can even be taken out afterwards or hung out to dry to give the locals a sense of justice if needs be."

LavenderFang smiled at the approval as her wings rustled. I knew that Zephyr were amused by feathers, and the room was practically filled with the flighty spirits.

Standing up to brush the other wing, Mother Clementia's frown deepened. "Is that where we are?"

"Not unless our hands are forced. A mutually beneficial agreement for all sides would be ideal," I smiled at the "we", having my mothers', both of them, support in this endeavor was a relief. "Besides, I may have gotten the measure of RainsFord earlier today, but the other two are still a mystery."

RedWing looked into her brandy glass and swirled the dark liquid. "Our Mother Duchess also had her concerns."

"Which is why I want this as a group effort. You all have an insight and experience to this situation," I said, broadening my smile. That may have been a slight exaggeration, at least with VioletBlood's cousin, but no reason to not sweeten the pot. "Alexi has had the longest experience having lived here."

From her seat off to the side, not quite with the dutifully waiting servants, my seneschal nodded. She was an unprepossessing woman, but I knew enough to be wary of demonesses who were comfortable taking a demure and unremarkable form. "I have simply helped the Baroness fill in her list," said the quiet steward, playing down her contributions, "adding a few notes to the maps and surveys you brought with you was really the extent of my assistance. Still, there's also other land improvements we can use to entice the locals to cooperate with the railroad. Tax deductions for wells or the like in return for a land lease, or perhaps a property tax credit for the next two collections."

I bowed my horns to her. "You are too humble. After all, you will be speaking for me and shouldering this responsibility in the new year when duty calls me back offworld."

"Such is the burden of command," Doctrix RedWing sympathetically said.

"I do wish I had gone to university instead," I sighed. "Perhaps then I could have stayed closer to home."

My sister's smile sharpened. "My dear fledgling, university life would bore you."

"I liked the Silvana War College," I countered.

"Of course you did! Universities have three purposes: expanding and teaching advanced technical or arcane vocational skills, containment facilities for our strategic reserve of artists, and daycare for idle noblewomen who think themselves too modern for proper finishing schools." Her bright eyes sparkled with mirth. "Now which of the three do you think the War College falls under?"

"For the Fleet or the Legions?" VioletBlood asked with a smirk.

Her comment was met with polite laughter.

"Yes, the old girls club of all those balloon-headed shipies," RedWing sipped her glass. "Though they do look dashing in Fleet whites."

"Teaching isn't that bad is it?" I asked, frown tugging at my lips.

Not pausing in her brushing, Mother Clementia gave a beatific smile. "Every broodling is a precious gift and a joy to teach."

I idly wondered if my mother had ever gambled. I glanced at Visha who, curled up on my side, was the picture of demonic purity.

"Alas, I do not instruct broodlings," Redwing took a small pastry from an offered tray. "But by the time I get students, most of the dullards who can't inscribe a rune or calibrate a basic thaumaturgic valve have been weeded out."

Gibbs snorted at that. "I still maintain most arcane undergraduates should go through legion artificer school first."

"True words, Centurion Ritualista," my sister nodded.

Sipping from her plain mug, Gibbs looked around as if she were surveying each of us before her cynical eyes fell upon me. "Ma'am, you have said we all have a role in your little council. Dare I ponder mine."

I met her gaze. "Suzette, you and your women are here to maintain options. In case fate decides to add some… flare to my leave, I want to have options."

+++++

The rail line's inexorable northward march was marked by new stations which popped up, mushroom-like, along the tracks. Switchbend was still the logistical hub for this effort, but in the last month of the 432nd year of the Fourth Epoch, it was no longer the northern terminus.

Twenty miles north of Switchbend was the village of Craw Holler. South of my county, the unnotable settlement was little more than a bump in the turnpike, a vague nub of civilization lost in the shadow of the piney hills that were the final eastern-most topological ghosts of the Romwel Alps.

The same geography that had routed the trading road through this valley also guaranteed that it would be, if not ideal, then certainly necessary for the railroad to likewise follow the topography and pass on through the sleepy and slightly-shabby little town.

Reinhild hung close to me, seemingly suspicious of the local folk. I was less paranoid. Practically every storefront was freshly painted, and most bore the signs of recent additions. The local inn, for instance, had clearly added a whole new floor only recently. And if the cheap paint was put on with more exuberance than skill, and some of the windows were already a bit crooked, well... I could appreciate their eagerness.

There was more than the sawdust of new construction in the air; Craw Holler was eager to accept everything the railroad had to offer. The station before us was small but tried to make up for it with bunting and banners.

"You seem disquieted?" I remarked as one of Reinhild's nieces waved before turning to park the motorcar off the main street.

Tails swishing, the kitsune gave a slight tilt of her head as she scanned the crowd. While her emotions seemed generally calm, there was a slight anxiety to her movements. "I've been to towns like this before," she quietly said.

I nodded as the wooden steps creaked under our feet as we entered the humble station. "It's a stop on the road, well, on the rails now."

"Indeed, Countess, and we both know they make their coin from travelers. Some places may not be so... reputable about how they go about it," she cautioned in a low voice and, diffidently and discreetly, straightened the fall of my coat.

I chuckled. "Noted. We'll avoid the bars, second hand shops, and any form of wagering."

Reinhild bowed her head. "I just ask for caution." From her tone, I could tell she was debating her decision to leave a driver with the caravan and a motor lorry. Sure, hill-folk might have stripped the vehicles for parts as soon as they were out of our sight, but she'd prefer to have another kitsune to help watch my back.

Can you truly blame our faithful servant? The prideful and prim voice purred in my mind. Having to replace a mere motorcar would be far less of a disgrace for the Fox than having to replace her mistress. And we, more than anyone else, should know well that no one is invincible.

Not even the so-called Gods.

Shaking my head, I stepped aside to study the train schedule nailed above the ticket booth. I had enough noblewomen whispering in my ear; I didn't need my paranoid mind to conjure up another.

With a stove stoked too high to compensate for drafts, the overly warm waiting room remained fairly busy with a bunch of waiting travelers lingering about and a surprising number of newspaper stands and food stalls crowding its walls. The enticing scent of cheap sausages in a bun, where the smell was by far the tastiest part, did a good job of overpowering the smell of fresh paint.

A handful of women, who by their predatory but ingratiating expressions, snappy suits, and feathered hats had to be saleswomen of some kind, lurked in a knot by the door to the lavatory, peering at the crowd like buzzards wondering which antelope was most sickly. I wondered what flim-flamery they purveyed. Maybe they were selling railway disinfectant to nervous travelers, electric bath aides, or knocker-uppers for work people. Regardless, they were sampling the sausage-seller's wares. I suppose like appreciated like, and that no carrion-eater could resist such a succulent selection of questionable meat.

When no horde of pickpockets immediately descended upon us, Reinhild seemed to relax a bit. "Hopefully the train's not late." I could understand her attitude. The reason I was here with just one servant was the same reason Reinhild would shortly be joined by more servants: there was only so much room in even a stretched touring car.

"The train's tardiness can hardly be the fault of the locals…" I noted, and pulled a pocket watch out of the vest I wore over my dress. The gilded and engraved lid opened with a satisfying click as I depressed the release, revealing a tiny masterwork of functional beauty. Judging by that masterwork, whose mechanisms were precise to the point that only seconds should be lost per century, the station clock was a full three minutes fast.

Allowances, I supposed, not bothering to conceal my frown as I tucked my watch back away, must be made for provincials. Sometimes, at least.

"As you say," Reinhild politely stated. Her admonishment that I should carry a handbag went unstated. It was old hat by this point. She remained loudly silent as she followed me out from the waiting room and onto the covered platform. Above our ears, tin roofing groaned in the wind like a legionnaire with a split hoof. There was a second platform but, without any stairs, the half-built structure was inaccessible.

The tracks stretched far in either direction. To my left, they went south all the way to Switchbend, to Bovitar, and from there, to practically anywhere else on Diyu. To the right, the line left Craw's Holler behind and rose up around a cutting, where the tracks stopped but the clearing continued, a railroad without rails.

The weather was proving less blustery than I expected. Perhaps it was all the waiting people holding their breath in anticipation for the dawdling train, capturing a share of the wind in their collective lungs. They were not quite crowding the yellow line painted on the platform's wooden planks but they clustered behind it like gamehens, bodies plumped out with downy jackets against the cold. Those planks squeaked incessantly every time I took a step or some other waiting figure shifted their weight, a clear sign of inexpert joinery. My frown deepened when I looked up and heard the poles holding up the roof creak even louder.

Speed, it seemed, had trumped quality in every aspect of the station's construction.

At least something had been uniform in its erection.

"Now, now, Countess. Do not begrudge these proud folk their eagerness," a familiar voice crooned, far too close for comfort.

Hackles raised, I turned with deliberate slowness to see the Lady from the Railroad standing behind me, no doubt hoping to make me start into motion with her unexpected closeness. As usual, the blonde was turned out in glossy red and charcoal black.

"Ma'am," I inclined my head to her, careful to keep my nerves under wraps. "What brings you here?"

Beside me, Reinhild offered a polite, if stiff-tailed, bow. Her vulpine eyes, I noted, had dilated wide, every hunter's nerve locked in the careful observation of the Lady in glowing coals and soot.

"Why, progress, my dear Countess!" The red-eyed woman spread her arms. "What else brings the steel road anywhere, save the promise of progress towards a brighter future? But, in this particular case, I have come to celebrate the opening of this: a new station on my associate's line!"

She beamed at her announcement, the Lady from the Railroad, ruby lips stretched wide in a generous smile, materteral delight twinkling in her eyes like an old aunt letting a beloved niece in on some shared joke. She flashed me a wink that I immediately mistrusted, more than if it came from one of those saleswomen, and offered me an arm to guide me down the platform. "What do you think, Countess?"

"It's very…" I pursed my lips and chose my words carefully. Something told me to tread lightly around the woman whose arm, around which my own was wrapped, had all the give of steel in it, and whose heat I could feel even through the thick material of her jacket. "New. Shouldn't these platforms and sidings be made from poured concrete, or at least from stone? The mason's guild does have codes."

Another pole squeaked and I looked up at the agonized roof, spine tingling with growing anticipation for… something. "Also, the wood for these poles and rafters looks a bit green. I'm not sure the tolerances properly accounted for the cold or the wind."

"All in due time Countess, all in due time! Yes, soon things will be 'on the level', as it were," the demoness enunciated carefully as if the phrase were of import, "But right now, the people of Craw's Holler want to strike while the iron is hot! While the iron is hot, while the timber is unseasoned, and while the scent of opportunity fills the air right alongside the scent of sawdust! Hence this limited early opening! Industry, enterprise, progress… I think these are all values we can both agree on, yes, Countess?"

Eying the overcast sky, I took back my arm from the Lady and pulled my wings in as the wind picked up. "Actions," I stated, "always come with costs."

The Railroad Demon's sunny smile turned sharp. "Oh Countess, how right you are! Safety codes are written in blood, after all. But too much timidity will not do, no, My Lady, it will not do at all! We must reach – reach! – to find the limit of our grasp. Do you deny the bold their freedom to choose and to strive? If they fail, they fail and others will learn from the example they set! But if they succeed..."

My wings ruffled as the crowd pressed in. At least by Diyu standards, and by the standards of a no-name town in a rural province, there were many passengers eager for the train's arrival. "'tis a worthy aspiration, to advance oneself and blaze new frontiers, but a wise entrepreneur is always careful about who they step on to climb up. The footing can be treacherous, when the ascent is over backs and heads… Sometimes, those whose backs the overly hasty and the incautious step upon might reach up to pull you down. Sometimes those climbing higher above might kick down, sending an unwary alpinist who ignored their ropes and their pitons bouncing back down the slope… Sometimes, thoroughness is its own reward."

Tail flicking, the blonde demon chucked, a smooth yet raspy sound that brought to mind both the exhalations of some great cat and the sighing of a hydraulic piston in motion. "Ah, is that why you made sure to craft your own tower from a pile of bones, My Countess? Quite wise. Quite wise. Bones, after all, seldom kick."

Behind us, Reinhild was doing her best to remain sensibly unobtrusive. If she could avoid dealing with the Railroad, or at least the individual embodying the authority of… some line or another, then she would.

From up the tracks, there was a distant chugging noise followed by the long wail of a train horn. The crowd thronging the creaking platform cheered, eager to trade the wind for the warmth offered by four stout if rattling walls. The painfully-earnest saleswomen in sharp suits and shiny shoes, with their hatboxes, suitcases, and other containers for their wares heaped at their sides, practically quivered with anticipation. Personally, I felt they were far too optimistic to think that the solution to all their problems was aboard that oncoming train.

A handsome-looking engine in the green livery of the Great Southern Railway company pulling a matching line of passenger cars raced towards us on the steel rails. Billowing coal smoke spread as if it were some cloud machine. For all our magical artifices, coal remained the queen of the rails, its sheer practicality hard to beat. Easy to mine, energy dense, plentiful, and relatively safe to handle compared to more exotic power sources, it was a convenient choice of fuel for the hungry firebox of a locomotive. I'm sure some researchers out there were looking into some kind of magical rails to power the trains, but today wasn't yet that day.

I supposed mother's escorts were flying above somewhere, hidden in the low cloud cover. Mother could have simply flown up to my manor house in her own RP, but her baggage would have to be picked up at this station regardless. Hence my presence at the station, and hence her arrival via the Railroad.

As the engine approached, a rattling vibration came up from the rails, and the whole platform quivered and flexed. My mind drifted to thoughts of flying with Mother. It had been far too long since we had last taken to the air together. Realizing I had been craning my neck to get a better view of the train, I took a step back from the yellow painted line, the huddled throng parting easily for me and my two companions. Practicalities aside, I certainly didn't need to be reminded that getting distracted was how "accidents" happened near the rails.

My horns practically buzzed from the radiant eagerness of the crowd. It was thick enough to slice and fry in a pan. Frankly, I was shocked that the locals didn't have a band playing. I had to step to one side to avoid being jostled by the traveling saleswomen, their eagerness to board overwhelming societal conventions around crowding others, not to mention the deference generally offered to anybody with rank or wealth enough to be accompanied by a personal servant.

Another whistling wail echoed, this time loud enough to cut through any other sound and warn all in its path. The rails began to sing with the conveyed echo of the wheels and, in the distance, what had been a faint smudge of potential suddenly became a rapidly approaching reality. The train had been easing on the throttle for miles, but that didn't change the fact that it was hundreds upon hundreds of tons of mass inexorably hurtling towards us.

As the vibrations grew, the poles holding up the roof creaked and groaned, a crowd of mourners absent a funeral. A sudden squeal of brakes broiling with friction cut through the air, an ear-splitting hiss shredding the bustling clamor of the platform. Roof supports and the platform trusses shuddered ominously in quaking chorus as the train decelerated.

Nothing too extraordinary, and nothing I could pinpoint, but after so many years spent across lifetimes revolving around the railroad, I could feel in my bones that something had gone wrong. For a moment the engine still seemed deceptively far away and it took me a moment that dopplered out into an agonizing eternity for the pieces to fall into place, for the situation to fully register.

There was something wrong with the brakes!

Panic clenched my chest, and like a child reaching for a safety blanket, I tried to use logic to salve my anxiety. There's still plenty of track to spare and there's nothing ahead of them. The rails are empty. Even if they are slow to stop, they could still bleed off enough momentum to… to…

I turned desperately to see if there was an alarm to pull, craning my head for an angle that afforded a full view of the platform's length, a warning on my lips as the magnitude of the situation came crashing down on me.

The train raced to the station far above speed, a thundering green giant hurtling through to suddenly fill the previously vacant space beyond that painted yellow line with furious vibrations and whistling screams. A loud crack came from somewhere below my feet. Something gave. Everything tilted as a long section of the platform collapsed towards the rails.

The saleswomen stumbled. One of their number, a shorter, green-haired one, hit Reinhild, bowling her over and knocking her down into the tangled, panicked crowd. Meanwhile, the taller saleswoman's heel caught in the cracked floor and she fell. I moved to catch her, when-

Crack!

Something knocked into my head. Stars burst across my vision. Thoughts scattered across the Spine as I went flying. An old, helpless fear spiked. I saw the train racing in as I was about to go past the yellow line and over the edge.

Time seemed to slow as I fell. Wings snapped out. My Zephyr rose up. The blinding light heralding my death drew ever closer.

It can't end like this, not again!

Then a hand shot out and grabbed my arm. Nails pressed into my flesh with an iron grip and I was hauled back from the precipice. Holding me upright, my heels firmly planted back onto the partially collapsed platform, the Lady from the Railroad stood perfectly poised on the tilted surface.

"We've done that once before, haven't we, Dear Countess? No need to retread old ground, I think." She smiled again, again letting me in on a joke shared only between us two, heedless of the screaming chaos. Her ruby lips were as sharp as a razor blade, as plump as a water-bloated corpse, and as red as blood so fresh the air hadn't time to darken it away into rust.

Her eyes were windows into hell, into a place where even demons could be sacrificed upon altars dedicated to the honor of a god far less merciful than any I had ever killed.

There is nothing, those machine eyes still twinkling with grandmotherly joy, as if she had found a favored broodling, seemed to suggest, that cannot be rendered into fuel for the engines of Progress..

The train roared past us, howling steel and shrieking steam trailing a deafening cacophony as certain death passed me by once again. Despite the deafening chaos of it all, the Lady's voice rang crystal clear.

"The same death an even number of times? Unlucky." She clicked her tongue and shook her head, that same coldly friendly grin on her face all the while, "No, no, we can't have that at all."

The engine, it transpired, overshot the station. It stopped eventually, coming to a trembling halt nearly a mile away, the rail cars almost outside of the town's furthest bound. In its wake were the screams of the scared, the wails of the hurt, and the silence of the dead.

With eyes as uncaring as the red safety signs warning passengers that a train was coming and not to cross the yellow line, the blonde demon stared me down. She knew.

She knew.

She was no Being X with sanctimonious impatience, no Uriel with his quiet plans! No... She was something else.

And she had read me like an open book.

A quartet of Ritual Plate plunged down from the clouds, breaking the moment stretched between us like spun glass. It was possible they had descended to reassert order and to carry off the injured, and most likely of all were a futile show of force, a demonstration of a Duchess's power in a place and at a time where a Duchess and a Countess had been brushed by the dragging trail of Death's own robe, but still I took comfort in their glinting, bellicose presence, no matter how symbolic or empty such force might be as a defense against the entity who held me aloft, and whose whim had just spared my life.

Giving the combat suits hardly a glance, the Lady from the Railroad studied the horror around us, her mockingly familiar smile replaced with an icy fury. Her gaze slipped past the mangled wounded and the scattered body parts that had been flung all over Craw Holler like ghastly garlands, dismissing all of them as beneath her care. Oh no, those pinpoint crimson eyes latched the platform itself and the engine in the distance with a searing intensity.

A gear, it seemed, had slipped in the drivetrain of Progress. Despite how close their mistake had come to costing me my life, I shivered, wings closing over my shoulders, when I thought of what would happen to the parties responsible for that blasphemy when this… avatar of the machine-god of unfettered, nay cancerous, growth found them.

"I... I should help the injured," I stated and motioned for Reinhild, who had climbed to her feet amongst the scrum of the fallen, seeming uninjured for her tumble. She had insisted on never traveling without a compact trauma kit and there was a larger one in the motor car's trunk.

I was about to call for a runner when the kitsune, who had already thrown her keys to the saleswoman who had knocked her over, ordered the women to run to fetch the kit, and to bring Reinheld's cousin back along with her. That is, if the other maid wasn't already running towards us.

"Do give your mother my best," said the Lady from the Railroad with a touch of her previous knowing jocularity, giving a little bow to me as if she had to leave a luncheon early. "I have to... bend the ear of some associates of mine."

There was nothing remotely friendly in those words, only a hiss like a boiler under too much pressure. Like some fell machine, the Lady strode out of the station untouched and unmoved by the tragedy writ in rent flesh around her, her shoes spotless, her wings practically smoldering with unconcealed rage..

Nodding, I mouthed some dull and automatic response to her parting, focusing instead on my Legionary trauma and triage training. Providing first aid was something I could do, at least until proper doctors or nurses could be found. My Zephyr were eager to help; they might not know too much about biology, but they were clever enough to realize that liquids belonged inside. I just had to keep the very good spirits from getting too exuberant.

With so many in pain and shock, my horns buzzed like wasps as I donned the gloves Reinhild offered and set numbly to work. My spirits only truly lifted when I felt Mother's approach. Glancing down the rails, I could see the Duchess and could distantly feel her concern and resolve. She was fast marching from the stopped train, her bodyguards and a number of passengers who had been drafted to help swept up in tow.

As Reinhild and I started to separate the quick from the dead and the living dead from those who could be saved, I tried to focus on what was in front of me and who I could help right now, with the resources I had on hand. For the moment, secrets could wait.

But not forever.

End Chapter 35

Well, that's a new complication

Thanks to Ahuva, DCG , ellfangor8 , Green Sea, Larc , Readhead, metaldragon868 , WhoWhatWhere, and ScarletFox for checking and editing this chapter And Special thanks to Readhead for polishing and adding that much more menace and intensity to the Railroad Lady. Also to Zeshara for the idea for the first scene. And for ScarletFox who once more has come up with the chapter title.

In good news, chapter 36 has been written and is being edited, and the two latest chapters of Bonding Allure have been edited and will be posted. I will also be working on new content to Bonding Allure, as the crossover with that and Little Demon is nearing. These revisions will bring Bonding Allure (and Return) more in line with the world building of Little Demon

More good news, I'm now up to a full dozen art pieces to be posted ( including ones of the Lady from the Railroad, broodlings, the Duchess's Ritual Plate, and some gowns) and I also have a handful of new Legionary ground vehicle designs. So you can expect a few Sabers Watch gifts.

 

[NHO]

Ah yes. Demons and demons.

 

[Simonbob]

And Fey.



I wonder who invited something like that out to play. And if they're still alive.

 

[Rymu]

Well. The party might have been nice and informative but that railroad station encounter sure was spooky.

Methinks Tanya needs to find another artifact for self defense...

 

[ScarletFox]

And Fey.



I wonder who invited something like that out to play. And if they're still alive.

Click to shrink...

She...invited herself ^_^ It'll be discussed more in the next chapter but she is something a bit different than those from Avalon's Summer Hills and Winter Castles.

Spoiler: If you want a hint

A similar being could be found in Old Appalachia if they were also working on a Rail line.

 

[Sunshine Temple]

Ah yes. Demons and demons.

Click to shrink...

It does raise the question of just how much Tauria knows about the Lady. Maybe her Mother knows something.

And Fey.



I wonder who invited something like that out to play. And if they're still alive.

Click to shrink...

That depends on the costs such a being demands, and the boons she brings with her.

Well. The party might have been nice and informative but that railroad station encounter sure was spooky.

Methinks Tanya needs to find another artifact for self defense...

Click to shrink...

Awesome! And well... they thought Tauria was paranoid for bringing such weapons with her, and turns out.... she might not have brought enough.

She...invited herself ^_^ It'll be discussed more in the next chapter but she is something a bit different than those from Avalon's Summer Hills and Winter Castles.

Spoiler: If you want a hint

A similar being could be found in Old Appalachia if they were also working on a Rail line.

Click to shrink...

Hehehe.... Yeah, the Lady of the Railroad has a... different aspect. And yeah I heartily recommend that podcast. Some very good stuff.

Thanks for commenting everyone!

 

[Sunshine Temple]

Merry Xmass, Happy Holidays, and a somber SBRs Watch.

Another year for Little Demon. It's been a pleasant surprise that it's gotten this much continued engagement and support. I'm thankful for all of you for reading, commenting and your continued interest. I know this is a bit of a niche story, let alone being an original setting, let alone what the setting is like. Once again thank you all readers new and old.

Edit: Oh, I'm so sorry, I also want to thank all my editors and beta readers for all their help, corrections, polishing, ideas, and support. The story is a much better work for all their help!

Chapter 36 is being edited, and ch37 has 5,800 words being written.

And now, onto the art.

---

First by Scitty Kitty we have the Railroad Lady, the pride of progress, and her right-hand... associate Miss Crow

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Next by Lexi Kimble we see the Railroad Lady's other minion: Mistress RainsFord Songstress. She is trying to charm a very overdressed Tauria

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And by PlayerError404 we have Tauria gamely trying to get her nieces Talia and Liata down, and not doing something rather... risky

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Also by Lexi Kimble we have Visha and Tauria showing off some fancy Elenese style fashion

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And also by Scitty Kitty we have more Tauria emotes. (The previous batch can be seen here). Shows how expressive she is, and these emotes get a lot of use in the LD Discord.

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And finally by Lexi Kimble on a sober note we have Volantes Centurion Lady Adriana "Milly" Melisande and her late mate Volantes Centurion IronTalon Cardino

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Also by PlayerError404 we have this lovely scene of Duchess SilverFlight and Tauria taking a break after flying together.

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And last but not least by Tiffanymarsou we have DarkStar in a fancy holiday gown. Which is an adaptation of a previous work by PlayerError404 posted last year.

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Once again Happy Holidays everyone!

 

[RogueInquisitor]

Merry Xmass, Happy Holidays, and a somber SBRs Watch.

Another year for Little Demon. It's been a pleasant surprise that it's gotten this much continued engagement and support. I'm thankful for all of you for reading, commenting and your continued interest. I know this is a bit of a niche story, let alone being an original setting, let alone what the setting is like. Once again thank you all readers new and old.

Chapter 36 is being edited, and ch37 has 5,800 words being written.

And now, onto the art.

---

First by Scitty Kitty we have the Railroad Lady, the pride of progress, and her right-hand... associate Miss Crow

Fullsize​

Click to shrink...

That booklet looks familiar. Any reason it is emblazoned with Tauria's coat of arms?

---

Next by Lexi Kimble we see the Railroad Lady's other minion: Mistress RainsFord Songstress. She is trying to charm a very overdressed Tauria

Fullsize​

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Click to shrink...

Wow, look at the platform on Tauria's shoes. Another reminder she is smol.

Also by Lexi Kimble we have Visha and Tauria showing off some fancy Elenese style fashion

Fullsize​

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Click to shrink...

The way Tauria is grabbing Visha's leg looks super awkward.

Also by PlayerError404 we have this lovely scene of Duchess SilverFlight and Tauria taking a break after flying together.

Fullsize​

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Click to shrink...

Damn, that's surprisingly hearwarming. What's with the ruins firing an energy beam in the background?

 

[moon so bright]

Love the new fan art, and Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!

 

[Sunshine Temple]

That booklet looks familiar. Any reason it is emblazoned with Tauria's coat of arms?

Click to shrink...

Heh, the intention is as a calling card. And it's showing the connection between the two.

Wow, look at the platform on Tauria's shoes. Another reminder she is smol.

Click to shrink...

Yah, even with those heels and some crazy hair she's still shorter than the huntress. But goes to show there's a wide variety of heights on Diyu

The way Tauria is grabbing Visha's leg looks super awkward.

Click to shrink...

Yah, it is just possible but doesn't have any strength. But given they're deliberately posing a bit of allowance can be made

Damn, that's surprisingly hearwarming. What's with the ruins firing an energy beam in the background?

Click to shrink...

Daww, and yah that was a real nice moment between them. That beam is the artist's rendition of a teleport beacon.

Love the new fan art, and Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!

Click to shrink...

Thanks! Glad you liked it! And hope you have a good holiday too!

 

[Buffalo Heart]

I hate when I lose my place in an fic and I can't find it again.

 

[Sunshine Temple]

I hate when I lose my place in an fic and I can't find it again.

Click to shrink...

Hmm a couple questions to narrow things down.

Has Tanya got her own Flight of 4 pilots and taken a mission to Vualia? (ch 6)

Have Tanya and Visha Reunited? (ch9)

Has she gone to the War College yet? (ch16)

Has Tanya got her own Squadron of 12 pilots? (ch21)

Have they gone on a mission on Harp's World? (ch25)

Or had Tanya gone back to her manor house for the holidays? (ch33)

 

[Buffalo Heart]

I know I lost my place somewhere between chapter 10 and chapter 13. The problem is that I can't seem to narrow it down further than that >.<

 

[Sunshine Temple]

I know I lost my place somewhere between chapter 10 and chapter 13. The problem is that I can't seem to narrow it down further than that >.<

Click to shrink...

Ahhh the jungles of House Crocelli arc!

Hmm well ch11 opens with Tauria's 12th birthday. After that is a pretty major combat sequence.

 

[Buffalo Heart]

Made it to the start of chapter 16. The reason I couldn't find the place I was at easily was that I kept thinking I hadn't finished chapter 13, but I was actually about halfway through 14 last time I read.