Newly Summoned Demoness 2 - Chapter 27 – Shackles and Shadows (Patreon)

A distant metal scrape prompted Yolani to shift.

Pain was the first sensation that greeted her as consciousness slowly crept back into her. The numbing cold of the stone floor, the throbbing of her jaw, and the metallic taste of blood in her mouth were her first companions. Pressing herself back up to a sitting position sent stabs of agony through her body.

How long had she been asleep? Or passed out. There was little to differentiate between the two in the cell.

Her first thought ran to Henri—she looked out across the cell and felt her hopes drop as she saw he hadn’t moved. The dim light of the distant lantern or torch made it hard to tell for sure. The sound of a gurgling snore told her he was still breathing, at least.

The noise of metallic doors screeching on their hinges, and of locks being undone, echoed down the corridor. She counted two heavy doors opening before the sounds of footsteps approached. A grim note ran through her mind: at least they weren’t being left to rot, forgotten.

The light from the hall flickered as someone stepped in front of it. Two figures appeared in the dim outside her cell.

One was clad in the unmistakable garb of a Conclave monk, while the other donned chainmail armor that seemed to shimmer in the low light—a white capelet around his shoulders hinted that the man was a member of the Lightbringers.

Yolani activated her [Identify], despite the effort it took. A small transparent scroll opened up in her vision, confirming her suspicions.

[Armsman of Light – Human – Level 243]

[Martial Monk – Human – Level 188]

Her voice came out a hoarse croak as she struggled to speak, the pain in her jaw causing her to have to keep it still as she made the sound. “Please, help me get out of here.”

The Lightbringer scoffed at her plea, his voice laced with disdain. “A demon-keeping whore wants freedom?” His sneer was audible even if his face was hidden in shadow.

Resignation tinged with anger strangled the feeble flame of hope that had struggled against the flood of pain and helplessness. They weren’t there to help. What could she possibly say to sway men who had already judged and condemned her without knowing her at all?

“She’s in a much worse state than your men reported,” the monk stated.

The Lightbringer snorted. “Not my problem.”

“Please,” she tried again, her voice crackling. “Henri’s hurt badly. He hasn’t moved.”

The monk remained silent, his face an impassive mask as he observed her. The Lightbringer stepped closer to the bars, leaning in as if inspecting an object rather than a person. “He killed one of my men. I couldn’t care less if he’s a corpse.”

The man reached up and pressed a metal key into the cell door; the metal creaking as he turned it. “You’re associated with The Demon. That makes you complicit in her crimes against our order.”

Yolani’s mind spun. What crimes? They’d saved the city from an insane cultist Magister. They—her mind froze as the missing piece clicked together. The sword. Eziel. It had been eaten by the Celestial Engine. It had belonged to Paladin Anton—to the Lightbringers.

“I’m an artificer,” Yolani argued weakly. “My work is here in Neftasu, not against anyone.”

The Lightbringer laughed coldly. “We have some questions for you to testify to while under truth stone. If you cooperate, we can consider releasing you when we are sure it won’t cause issues.”

Yolani fell silent. She wasn’t sure what they wanted exactly, but it was becoming clear that the Lightbringer saw the world in black and white; there was no room for the nuances of reality in his view. Something she remembered Elania complaining about when discussing Paladin Anton, too.

Her eyes slid to the monk, even though it was the Lightbringer who stepped into her cell. What alliance had the Conclave to with the Lightbringers that they were allowing them to kidnap members of the City Watch? The Conclave was one of the most powerful organizations in the city, although it didn’t have its own Magister. Much like the Syndicate.

“Give me your ankle,” the Lightbringer spat at her. He grabbed the chain and yanked.

The force was sudden and pain flared through her entire body, but especially around her foot. It was impossible for her to hold back the scream.

“Shut up, whore,” the man cursed.

He raised his hand to hit her, but the monk intervened by grabbing the Lightbringer’s wrist.

“She’s already beaten badly. If you thrash her further, she won’t be able to answer anything. I need to heal her foot and jaw at least.”

The Lightbringer relented with a curse.

Despite the tears in her eyes, she got a good view of him waving a small stone—a frequency resonance stone—by her ankle bracelet, and the metal parted. It was definitely an artificed restraint.

He moved away and let the monk inside. The man’s orange-hued robe and bald head were typical for the more senior monks in the Conclave. He knelt beside her.

“This will only take a moment. Try to close your eyes and not move. The pain will be gone once it’s finished,” he said.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been magically healed, although it was the first time by a monk and light based spell. She followed his instructions. Even with her eyes closed, she could see the light turn the inside of her eyeballs red as a warmth seeped into her skin.

Almost immediately, the pain in her jaw disappeared—so did the pain in her foot. When she opened her eyes, she poked at the skin of her face to confirm that the damage had disappeared.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The monk didn’t smile or acknowledge her words; instead he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go.”

He followed behind her, pointing her out of the cell and to follow the Lightbringer, who was waiting in the hall. She froze when she stepped out and had a better look at Henri—even in the dim light, she could see he was badly injured.

“Move,” the monk ordered.

“What about him?” she asked, desperation seeping into her voice.

The Lightbringer glanced back at Henri with indifference. “He will be interrogated when he wakes—if he wakes.”

Yolani turned to the monk. “You can’t just ignore him. He has much worse injuries than I did. The Conclave and the City Watch aren’t enemies… you can’t just leave him there to die.”

The Lightbringer turned and grabbed her arm and yanked her away, but the Monk didn’t follow, instead he held out his hand. “The key.”

“You’re going to heal him?” the Lightbringer asked, the question almost an accusation.

“He looks like he won’t survive the night if I don’t,” the monk replied.

The hand around Yolani’s arm tightened painfully. “He killed my man,” the Lightbringer replied.

The Monk raised his chin. “Not my problem.” The tone of his voice echoed the Lightbringer’s earlier usage of the phrase. “The key.”

A curse followed the thin piece of metal through the air. The monk caught it easily, then turned to open Henri’s cell.

Relief flooded through her even as the soldier yanked her down the hall. “You had better answer our questions, whore.”

Tears trailed down Yolani’s cheeks as she followed his direction.

She did her best to memorize the layout as he pushed her through the dungeon, past multiple blocks of empty cells. Counting the turns and making note of the security gates would help her find her way back if she needed to try to rescue Henri.

The relief from pain made that much easier, and she felt her head clearing as they went. The monk had healed more than just her ankle and jaw. She felt 100% better—physically at least.

A small stone staircase led to a better lit section of wherever she was being held, the corridors reminding her of some of the stonework of buildings in the Conclave district—hinting that she was indeed in some place controlled by the monks. A few more turns led to a door that was guarded by two more Lightbringers, who saluted as soon as they appeared.

“Sir,” the guard said as they approached. “The interrogation room is secure.”

“Good work, initiate,” her captor replied.

It sounded dumb enough that Yolani thought they might have been putting on a show for her or something. The room was bare except for a table with chairs, with a high ceiling with a single out of reach artifice lantern to provide lighting. She was shoved to the far side of the table and towards a chair.

“Sit,” the Lightbringer commanded.

She complied quickly, wanting to get away from him. He turned and left the room; the door slamming shut with a resounding thud. That brought relief, even if it felt like it sealed her fate somehow.

Her throat was parched, but she pushed the feeling down. She had to survive this somehow. She could only hope that the monk would help Henri enough for him to pull through.

Rescue would come… she knew Elania would, at the very least, be looking for them. Likely with Gaston’s help. Henri’s uncle was probably the only high-ranking member of the City Watch she would trust.

They just needed to somehow hold out long enough for it to arrive.

The monk helping Henri made her hope that it wasn’t as bad as it felt.