Demonborn's Fjord

by Dante Sakurai

  But the one video—the 2D video under both gaming and cooking hash tags—which stood out above everything else, was Gabrielle’s Sortis Yummies, episode one. She certainly had turned the cuteness up to an eleven, and combined with her Demonic appearance, the show had a kind of whimsical vibe. The dark undertones weren’t missed.

  The camera work was great—could be better in places—and the bite-sized duration of a few minutes worked extremely well for what she was going for. Perhaps it could’ve been longer with additional fluff and cooking tips, but this was a more than solid for episode one. The comments below agreed.

  And the view count was already up to twenty thousand. This was one of her most popular videos yet.

  Impressive.

  He scrolled down, and a few comments stood out.

  Rogue Fox: First!

  Antonio Grogorsian: LOL this is amazing!!!

  Angel Wolfheart: I think Mr Stabby wants an apology for being used as a kitchen utensil! XD

  Sunflower Woman: Amazing acting! A *little* too much sugar for a cake of that size, however. Are you sure your cup measurement is right? :)

  Ella Jolly: Do a recipe with your husband next episode, is he also a demon? <3 <3 <3

  Maybe I should, Rowan thought. I had made cameo voice-overs in previous videos.

  Mecha Skele: How did u become a demon? Is she an NPC?

  Rowan was going to reply to Mecha, but others had already pointed out he was most likely wrong given the previous videos on the channel, so he remained out of the fray. His comments could be rather trollish at times.

  A temptation to plant false information on Demons was strong, for the recent comments from new viewers to the channel were all fixated on the race and not the cooking. Had this been posted to the forums? It wouldn’t be a surprise if this was the talk of every guild chat.

  Nevertheless, every view helped in the long term. Every rating, including thumbs-downs, helped push this video up the trending ranks. And the in-game browser had no ad-blocker! For once, that was not irksome.

  A bittersweet smile painted Rowan’s cheeks rosy as he read through the many pages of praise. No trolls. Not a single one. But he knew how fast they’d turn on her at the slightest whiff of a scandal, at the slightest sign of controversy. That’s how they were, the masses. She knew—and he knew—well to keep a healthy distance. One famous MyTuber had slipped up in his spotless image; he’d been driven over the edge, literally.

  That train of thought was interrupted with the dungeon timer lapsing. The smooth abyssalnite floor dropped out under his bottom, and his body was guided into a standing position in the black void as though someone else had control over his brain. It wasn’t uncomfortable, no, but the abrupt seizure was a tad violating.

  The inside of the hovel, his Enchanter’s Studio, faded in. The shine of the two runestone cubes was much brighter than he’d remembered. His eyes promptly adjusted, zipping leftward to the slit window. The sun was touching the highest mountain peak. Plenty of time left.

  He typed out a message for Gabrielle.

  Rowan LeMort (To Gabby LeMort): I’m back. I have the Crystal Ice.

  Gabby LeMort: Great! We’re at Faenin’s tomb under the storeroom carving finishing touches!

  Surprise jolted up his back.

  Rowan LeMort: Already built?

  Gabby LeMort: Yup, Liluth’s a Builder now, silly.

  He had assumed all advance professions argued for similar prerequisites. Apparently not.

  Rowan LeMort: coming.

  Inside the storeroom, next to a crate full of Soul Crystals, a trap door revealed a flight of marble stairs descending into darkness. The marble, he noted, was finely cut though not polished. Good work. He lit a flame on his palm, hurried down exactly fifteen steps, and did a double-take on a glass lamp of white magic. Tasha must’ve bought it.

  Ten by ten by three blocks in the grid overlay, the tomb was more than spacious and already very cold. And clean. Six extra sarcophagi lined the walls while Faenin’s was raised above the rest at the center. A basin held a flawless glass sphere, waiting for an enchantment. With blacksteel chisels, the girls were carving block letters.

  FAENIN ELSINA

  Swallowing a lump, Rowan approached the basin with silent steps. He asked, “What’s with all these extra tombs?”

  “In case we need spares,” Gabrielle answered without looking at him.

  “We won’t be needing spares.”

  “Of course, silly. But just in case we need to freeze someone. Like what if we run of Soul Crystals?”

  “Then good thinking.” He exhaled. “Liluth. Are you sure about this? I don’t want to give you false hope.”

  Sniffing back tears, she mumbled, “Hope is all I have. He was my mate, and always will be. Your kind will never understand.”

  “Alright then, make sure he doesn’t thaw.” Rowan waited for the final E to be carved.

  Liluth sure took her sweet time decorating the letters with flower petals. Eventually, she was satisfied with her artwork. “I am ready.”

  “Do you want the others present?”

  “We did not know Luthias or Zaine very well. And as for the Skylar and Viola…” Her head shook. “Please, cast the enchantment. That is all I ask for.”

  “As you wish.” Rowan put on his best funeral face, one hand behind his back. “We gather here today to remember a valued member of our fjord, our community. Faenin Elsinaire, a young Sun Elf, was taken from us before his time, killed in battle. Murdered. We pray for the creators at Synaptic Entertainment show mercy and return him to us, but until that day comes, he shall rest here.”

  Gabrielle added, “He was a good boy. He shall be remembered.”

  As Liluth’s sobs restarted, Rowan fetched runestone cubes and a shard of Crystal Ice from his pouch. He placed the shard on the basin’s rim, then three runes were selected: FRT, BND, BLD. The runes symbolized frost, binding, and building; a snowflake, a chain-like squiggle, and a cuboid were etched onto the cubes.

  “Vira,” he whispered.

  The cubes glowed white, merged with the Crystal Ice shard, then dissolved into a stream of phantom snowflakes flowing into the orb. The enchantment was slow, a two-minute drain on his mana, and when it was complete, the air temperature fell off a cliff. He patted his new snow globe twice, happy with this new toy.

  A pop up expanded.

  Congratulations! You have applied your first building enchantment.

  Frost: 21 days and 23 hours remaining.

  Tip: You may set the target temperature to at most sixty degrees lower than the ambient surrounding temperature (Celsius)

  Tip: Each building may have up to three enchantments. Larger buildings depletes an enchant faster.

  Useful tips, really.

  Rowan commanded the enchantment to maintain at its minimum temperature, which was more than enough to withstand a harsh summer.

  After a final sad glance at the tomb, Liluth again wiped away tears. She gulped. “Lord LeMort, may I have the rest of the day to myself?”

  Gabrielle said, “Sorry... but we kinda need the rest of the wall at the pass built really quickly, especially now that Tasha slipped up at the spiders’ nest.”

  “I understand.” Liluth ascended the steps, her head hanging.

  “Row,” Gabrielle mumbled.

  “Yeah?”

  “Promise me…” She took a frosty breath. “That we won’t have to do any more funerals.”

  That was all? “I’ll try my best, as always, but let’s go before we have to arrange our own.”

  “Race ya.” She giggled and ran up the steps.

  “That’s not a race.” He sprinted up, and the instant his feet was off marble, the temperature was back to normal. The sudden change was more than jarring. His innards churned in the influx of heat as helped push a ten inch thick marble slab. The best part was the cold in here wouldn’t bleed outside. How? Magic.

  The trap door slapped shut, the tomb sealed.

  A yawn b
ulged in Rowan’s mouth. “Mind if I crash early today? I exhausted.”

  “Sure.” She patted his arm stump. “Take it easy. Ya have special needs now. You’re my very special Row-Row.”

  “Very funny.” He sauntered out the storeroom to the bedroom block.

  * * *

  A hop, a skip, a jump, and Gabrielle was at the bottom of the marble quarry, which was astoundingly wide and deep for less than a day worth of mining. The pit gobbled up her whole, and even now, it could be turned into a nice goldfish pond, but she doubted it’d last through winter or remain clean and oxygenated for that matter.

  However… Row could do something about that.

  That dummy. Lost his arm like a certain other dummy.

  Gabrielle whistled an upbeat melody, completely forgetting about him for the time being. Then her attention bounced to a line of pickaxes seeming chipping away at the marble by themselves with no hands holding them at all. She rubbed her eyes with loose fists.

  Nope, I’m not imagining that.

  There really were ten glowing pickaxes swinging away. For real. Not a hallucination. Rough chunks of marble fell off every dozen hits, and they were magically guided toward a stack by the opposite steps.

  Neat. Fun. Pretty.

  Now with a runestone supply, the floodgate holding back all the cool magics was wide open and no one could close it again. Not even that hussy Ayla.

  But where was Zaine? That little dummy rascal.

  Gabrielle swept through the lines connecting her head to theirs and found Zaine’s pointing back up the steps. Strange. Very naughty. She gave him a yanky yank, and he was here in two jiffies, jumping down. He was mad and rustled. Oopsies.

  Angry Elf eyes darted left, then right, then stayed glued on her. “I told you I don’t like to be pulled so hard like that.” He was almost as grouchy as a certain someone. “What do you want? Where’s Lord LeMort? Is he back?”

  She smiled merrily. “Just wanted to say hello. And Row’s taking a nap.”

  He got even more angry! But he managed to cool it. Good boy. “Hello, Lady LeMort.”

  “Are those your pickaxes?”

  “They are. What about them?”

  She hummed a long note, cooking up a question. “How much runestone do they use?”

  His eyes slightly narrowed. “About half a unit per day for ten. Got a problem with that?”

  Half a unit per day! That was sure expensive. “Ya too lazy to mine yourself?”

  “They do it much faster.” His one arm barred across his chest, not quite crossing with his other non-existent arm. “And my mana is all reserved.”

  She blinked with amazement. “All reserved?”

  “What about it?”

  “What if ya get attacked?”

  “Then I would unreserve twenty percent. It is not hard.” His tone was quite arrogant but not overly so.

  “Hmmmm.” She tapped her chin a few times, the Demon skin smooth though very, very firm. “I guess that won’t be a problem.” Her arms abruptly spread wide. “Anywho! I’ve got some wondrous news for ya!”

  His anger finally was lost to the wind. “Are you restoring my arm?”

  “Nope.” She held back giggles. “We need an arm donor for Row since he just lost his, so we’re gonna have to take that right one from ya.”

  In a flash, his sword was drawn. “Stay away. You are one crazy—”

  “Just kidding!” She jumped on the spot. “We’re restoring your arm. Liluth is gonna be a Priest soon!”

  His sword was sheathed, but his unfounded suspicion remained. “When?”

  “Hmph. So untrusting. After everything I’ve done for ya.”

  “What have you done for me?”

  Her smile bent downward. “I’ve been cooking for ya! How can you forget?”

  “Oh.” He chuckled two whiffs. “Sorry. Guess I got used to it. Thanks for the cake earlier. Also, two walls with the inner one higher would be better—so we have something to fall back to if the first is breached.”

  That was more like it! “Noted, and where’d ya get a slice? I dun remember—”

  “Luthias gave me half of his.”

  Awww, what a nice Elf. “How was it?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yup, be honest.” She offered a supportive thumbs-up.

  “It was really sweet. I have never had something with so much sugar in my life.”

  Sad. But Gabrielle’s ego wasn’t wounded—far from it! This was merely motivation to bake even better cakes in the future. She slapped on a confident smile. “What do ya Elves usually eat?”

  “Salads, dairy, pastry. Not much meat recently. Livestock has been increasingly—because of the war.” Zaine’s voice was, for some reason, weaker. He took a loud breath. “My mother was not wealthy. We kept to a bare minimum.”

  Poor boy. Gabrielle politely nodded. “Ya wanna go fetch her for us after your arm’s back?”

  “Really?” he said very boyishly.

  “Hehehe. Just kidding! We’re a long long long time from getting a portal building up.” She was feeling especially trollish this hour.

  Zaine was silent for the next twenty jiffies. “When can I go see her?”

  She gave it to him straight: “Anytime after the battle, I guess? Assuming ya make it through with your head intact.”

  “What battle?”

  “So… It turned out the whole world felt Draesear’s intervention, and the Humans are gonna send an expedition here. It should arrive by the end of week. They’re looking for Tasha as well cus she accidentally released a pocket dimension full of Undead on a town. Apparently we look similar enough that they figured it out.”

  He made a grumbling noise. “This is why we are walling off the pass.”

  “Exactly!”

  “What if they sail down the fjord?”

  “Yeah… we’re hoping that doesn’t happen. They probably wont, cus our fjord is facing north, and they’re coming from the Seril Aethel Ocean.”

  Zaine’s nose wrinkled. “I said it is not so safe here.”

  “Ya did?”

  “Twice.”

  “Huh. Guess I wasn’t listening.”

  “It was with Faenin and Lord LeMort in the gold mine. We discussed many ways we can defend this fjord. The major weakness is attacks from the north, and these waters will freeze early winter. The ice sheets will be thick enough for steeds and wagons.”

  “Ah.” Her lips twisted for one jiffy only. She didn’t have anything helpful to say, so she changed the subject: “Did ya three talk about anything else? Any gossip?”

  “Not much,” he said with disdain as another ten marble chunks floated up the steps onto their stockpile.

  “Come on. Spill the marbles.”

  “Mmmm. Faenin wanted to build a winter palace here for Liluth. Guess he can’t anymore. They were growing on you and Lord LeMort. You have treated us well enough, better than the Trolls by a dragon’s wingspan.”

  Gabrielle’s pretty Demon eyes watered by less than a drop. “Dun worry, we’ll have him back by next summer.”

  “How?”

  She smirked deviously. “Wanna know a secret?”

  “What?” Some excitement played in his voice.

  “Before Row and I first entered this world, the creators discussed possible upcoming features in development. Ya know what that means?”

  “More or less. The gods are creating new magic. New kinds of pocket dimensions to be raided. New seeds to be discovered.”

  Nice. Very nice. He was a smart boy!

  She pushed pine needles out of the way. They pricked her fingers. Ouch! “There might be, stress might, a big expansion soonish with an afterlife plane. Hell too for particularly bad boys.”

  Zaine said darkly, “They don’t exist right now?”

  “Not currently, as far as I know.”

  “So… where’s Faenin’s spirit? Where’s my mother’s spirit?”

  She shrugged. “Dunno.” Probably a frozen-in-time piece
of data, but she wasn’t going to explain all that to him. This was tiring stuff.

  Zaine was quiet for a long, long while. Two dozen marbles chunks floated away before he spoke again: “Can you find out more?”

  “Nope. Someone else got warned for sneaking around Synaptic HQ.”

  “I see.” His frown was legendary. “Leave me, please.”

  “Kay.” She skipped up the steps.

  Synaptic were such meanies to paying customers, not letting them tour the place—especially to one who was also advertising the game on MyTube for them. Sortis Yummies episode one was already up to thirty thousand views, over ninety-nine percent liked—a resounding success! But she was gonna need many, many thousands more to make this into a living.

  Skimming through the general section of the forums, a thread title near the middle of the page was most interesting. She ventured in.

  Found Them! by Lance Rider, posted 3 hours and 12 minutes ago.

  So Gabby and Rowan LeMort apparently has a MyTube channel. They are without doubt DEMONS! They are Demonborn.

  How nice of him to link her channel.

  Most suddenly, the chatbox asked for some love.

  Tasha NaMuso (To Gabby LeMort): We might need some time. I lost my staff, and there isn’t a Mage shop here.

  Grrrrr. The worst of Luck!

  Gabby LeMort: Kay!

  Somewhere in the far distance a meteor punched a hole through the clouds.

  Right, that was still happening.

  The chatbox wiggled again.

  Viola Everbright (To Gabby LeMort): You won’t believe how close that meteor was from hitting me!

  Gabrielle’s cheeks puffed with hot air. Why was this so funny? It just was. Karma for probably have a crush on someone else’s husband.

  Another wiggle.

  Viola Everbright: It’s a ton of runestone. I’m going to have to leave it.

  Awwww—not as funny. Too bad she wasn’t a Miner. Too bad she didn’t have a pouch.

  Gabby LeMort: Kay! I’m just glad you’re safe! I’m the fairest, nicest ruler there is. ^_^

  52

  Tasha stiffened her outstretched arms and tested this new Mahogany Opal Staff with an Arcane Bolt invocation. A frictionless yet abrasive type of mana rushed into her fingers. The grain lines in the wood lit up with a neon-blue glow. The grape-size opal glinted twice.