Newly Summoned Demoness - Chapter 5 – Yolani (Patreon)

The insistent tolling of the morning bell reverberated throughout Neftasu; its rhythm as unyielding as the stone edifices that comprised the subterranean city. An audible groan escaped from Yolani as she stirred. The glint from the massive light stones hanging over the city proper invaded her room, finally forcing her to roll to the edge of her bed.

She barely managed to untangle her sheets from her legs before they caused a face-first encounter with the cool stone floor. “Stupid sheets!” she muttered in annoyance.

Given the city’s remarkably stable ambient temperature, heavy bedding was more of a luxury than a necessity. However, the sheets, with their enveloping softness, were a comfort she wasn’t willing to go without.

Despite the added difficulty they could add to her morning wake-up routine.

It was just that today was a day to hurry.

Her bedroom took up one half of the upper floor of her father’s artifice shop, and was littered with unfinished experiments, tools, and failed artifacts. Her wardrobe was hidden in the corner near the plugged fireplace that was never used, and heavy curtains blocked the ceiling height window holes that had never held glass.

Not that she minded. They were the only access ways to the balcony, and sometimes she liked to sit outside and watch the traffic go through Artisan Row. Her father’s shop was at the end of the way and had a commanding view of most of the district.

Yolani stopped in front of her dresser mirror. It was the neatest flat surface in the room, but that wasn’t saying much. She grabbed her wood comb, one of the few pieces of wood in the entire building, and ran it through her long black hair a few times. It was mostly enough to tame her bedhead, but she’d failed to wake up before the bell and she needed to hurry.

Her father was counting on her to make it to the mana shard auction and get what they needed to finish the project for the magisters. They had paid up front for the project, so funds for a shard weren’t a problem, they just needed to get one the right size.

Dressing for a day out in the city required practicality above all else, and Yolani was no stranger to the city’s demands. She slipped into her trousers—a set of durable Ralfot leather that had seen better days but held up well against the rigors of an active artificer’s life. Her boots were made of a sturdier leather and had been recently cleaned and polished. It took a moment to work the many laces, but she’d never go out without the protective footwear.

Her blouse was a simple white affair, linen tailored to stretch enough to retain her mobility while also being breathable and temperature regulating. The crowning piece was, of course, her Artifice jacket—functional as it was stylish. Her father had gifted it to her on her 18th birthday, and it was made from the skin of an Alpha Rock Snake. Sporting a dozen pockets of various sizes that could hold anything, a set of loops would make carrying any needed tools a handless endeavor.

She slipped her standard carrying pouch’s shoulder band over her head and tied its leather security tie to her belt. Her artificer wand went on her other hip, attached by a steel chain. The gold pouch her father had entrusted her jingled satisfyingly as it went into the pouch. She thumbed the lock, and it flared briefly as the magic sealed the contents against even the city’s best pickpocket.

Yolani eyed her goggles—as crucial as they were for any Artificer worth their salt—they weren’t something she’d wear if she didn’t want to be laughed at outside the district. She left them on the table. It wasn’t like she was going to work on an engine or something today. She was going to the Syndicate’s auction house.

The scent of oil and metal filled the air as she headed down the shop’s stain stairwell; echoes of clinking tools greeted her as she entered the workshop. Her father was hard at work replacing the magical transducer of one of the mammoth light stones that decorated the city cavern’s ceiling. It dwarfed the man, and the amount of effort required to bring one down was just as great as the skill required to repair it.

Which was why he’d taken on the lucrative contract. They had everything needed for it, minus a mana shard which would power the contraption for another decade. The tinkering paused, and he lifted his goggles to look over his shoulder.

“Off so late?” He chided lightly, standing up and brushing off his hands.

A smile appeared on her face, and she raised her chin slightly, capturing a loose strand of her hair and sliding it behind her ear. “Don’t fret! Henri is supposed to walk with me over there.”

The mention of Henri raised an eyebrow. “You know what they say about boys,” her father began, his teasing belying the caution in his eyes. The hug he wrapped around her seemed just a bit overprotective, too.

Yolani rolled her eyes at the parental concern. This wasn’t a new conversation; it was one she’d heard many times before. Henri had been accepted as one of the members of the city guard and had grown up in the Artisan Dis’ and had been her playmate since she was like…five.

“Really now,” she retorted before pulling away, heading for the door, “He’s just Henri. He’s harmless.”

As she stepped out into the city’s artificial light, her father’s parting advice echoed in her ears, a reminder of the sort of thing you could find in Neftasu if you weren’t careful: “Just remember to keep your wits about you, especially around those Syndicate folk.”

She nodded absently, already anticipating the excitement of the auction, and securing the mana shard they needed. Yet underneath the thrill of responsibility and trust her father had laid on her was an unspoken tension. Life in Neftasu required more than just skillful artifice; it demanded a keen sense of survival and street smarts to avoid being trampled or snared by the schemes of those looking to get ahead.

The gentle hum of scattered morning conversation greeted her as she headed down the street. Artificer Row, with its orderly array of workshops, boutiques, and middle-class residences, lay before her. The air was filled with quiet anticipation of the day’s potential—of creations yet to be brought to life and deals yet to be struck.

As she passed by Master Artificer Ranolf’s shop, an apprentice opened the door and swapped the sign to open and Yolani waved and smiled. He waved back, blushing furiously, before disappearing inside. She had no idea why the boys were so easy to tease, but it probably had to do with her being the only female artificer apprentice that lived in the row.

There were plenty of female artisans, but artifice wasn’t a popular profession for them. Yolani had no idea why, but it was likely the frequency one became covered in machine oil. It was hard on the hair unless you took good care of it later.

A cart laden with supplies bobbled its way in the opposite direction, pulled by stalwart looking white Ralfots. She gave the teamsters a wide berth and linked up with a mercenary she recognized going in the same direction.

The middle-aged man gave her a suspicious look. “Yolani, where are you going?”

“Just to the gate, then the Syndicate auction.” She gave him a disarming smile and then he nodded.

The truth was the protection wasn’t really necessary. The Artisan District, and Artificer’s Row especially, were comparatively safe areas in the city. Probably second only to the Noble’s District or the Guard’s Fortress. But it was always good to stay on friendly terms with the guards.

The only problem was she had forgotten the man’s name… if she’d ever known it. “You don’t have a wife or girlfriend now, do you?” The mercenary group wasn’t known for attachment, so it was a pretty safe assumption.

He blinked at her, then shook his head. “N…no.”

That was exactly the reaction she was looking for and she carefully slid up to him, then linked her arm under his. “Great!”

He turned beet red for a few minutes, but by the time they reached the main entry point to Artificer Row, he’d returned to normal. She spotted Henri talking to one of the sergeants of the mercenary troop that maintained the security of the neighborhood.

Her childhood friend’s eyes lit up when they found hers, but that attracted the attention of the mercenaries nearby who said something that made Henri sputter. Yolani gave him a smile, and he straightened and tidied his uniform’s tunic. The guard outfit was a fusion between functional armor and the city guard’s regalia, neatly worn and polished like was required by the very finicky guard captains. The white and red was a vibrant contrast against the mercenary guard’s drab brown and dark gray, making him stand out. That was the point though, the city guard always wanted to stand out.

It was better because no one would make the mistake of hassling them.

She released her escort, then reattached herself to Henri’s side. “Hii. Thanks for agreeing to go with me. You know how it is.”

The mercenaries nearby all let out a unified laugh, causing Henri to blush fiercely. Something crass or vulgar, she had no doubt.

“Always making me wait,” he teased lightly.

She hugged his arm a little tighter and offered him a smile and a wink. “I did a good job not oversleeping.”

The sergeant laughed, “Taking your girlfriend shopping now, eh?”

A flush crept onto her cheeks, but when Yolani looked up to Henri, he had outdone her, turning from red to a deep scarlet. She rolled her eyes. “Ignore them,” she advised breezily before turning her attention back to the mercenaries. “You lot better mind your manners!”

The Sergeant’s grin nearly filled his face. “Aye, aye, princess. We’ll see that your kingdom isn’t disturbed, ye papa, and the other artificers pay us well enough for it.”

She let out an annoyed sound and tugged Henri away and out into the Artisan District proper.

“Leave it to you to make their day, Yolani,” Henri chuckled. He followed her lead further into the city, which quickly became much more crowded.

The Artisan district was where the craftsmen class lived and did their work, so a litany of forges hammering away filled the streets. Other jobs, such as plate fabricators, textile mills, and every other artisan craft one could conceive of were hidden away in the labyrinth of branded rows and ways, each dedicated to its own craft.

They fell into a comfortable but quiet stride as they made their way to the next district, which wasn’t too far. She was preoccupied with thinking about the upcoming auction, and Henri didn’t make his thoughts known to her.

As they made their way to the Central Market, the atmosphere turned electric. Street vendors haggled with customers over supposed artifacts, street performers dazzled crowds with their enchantments, and orphans darted between the stalls either participating in games or mischief. The kaleidoscope of color from the foreigners that called the market home painted the area vibrant shades of colors that weren’t at all common throughout the rest of the city.

She turned them toward the next district, only for Henri to resist and pull them to a stop. She raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

He looked at her accusingly. “Where are you going?”

“Henri,” she started hesitantly, “we should cut through Mercenary District…It’ll be quicker.”

He tensed beside her. The Mercenary District wasn’t exactly known for its safety. Actually, it served as the city’s slum, and anyone that went into it without a certain amount of wariness was liable to not come back out at all. She could tell his protective instincts had kicked in immediately.

“And risk running into trouble? The route through the Conclave district might be longer, but it’s safer…” He frowned as his words trailed off.

“But we’re already cutting it close, and I can’t be late,” Yolani argued back. “Besides, I can handle myself.”

She pulled away and patted her artifice wand. It was fully charged. “Guess who’s [Mana Manipulation] and [Aether Manipulation] both just hit Rank B?” She grinned wickedly.

He shook his head. “That’s pretty good, but mage craft doesn’t make you invulnerable, Yolani.”

She frowned. “I’m an adult. I don’t need permission to go that way.”

There was a tense moment between them, with her daring him to try to stop her. The moment she saw defeat cross his face, she spoke first. “I’ll not only feel a lot safer, but will be with you as an escort.”

He sighed. “Alright, alright. You win. Your father would kill me if he knew I let you go alone.”

Yolani went on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you!”

Somewhat predictably, he turned a shade of red again, eliciting a giggle.