2. Kazrith

"Stupid fucking xaphans," I mutter. "All this talk about New Solas and they can't even bother to clear their roads?"

One of my hands clutches the reins that control my two zarryns, who dutifully haul my trading carriage along the narrow roads that lead to the New Solas trading hub. My other hand sneaks out from underneath me, manipulating the shadows cast down by the sunlight.

Curling my fingers, the shadows begin to move as I want them to. Usually, I can create claws or wings that act as extensions of my body. This time around, a dagger shapes itself out of the darkness, which then cuts through the lousy shrubbery that blocks my zarryns from passing through.

I don't stop slashing at the plants until there's a wide enough space for my zarryns and carriage to pass through. When I'm done, my shadow dagger retracts until it takes the original form of the shrub's shadow once more. Then we pass through with ease.

"The journey from Ikoth can be long and treacherous, and those xaphans don't have the courtesy to make the voyage any easier for me," I say aloud, with no one but my two zarryns to hear me. They neigh and shake their heads on occasion. "One day, they'll come to respect us demons. We'll be as rich as they are."

In fact, that's precisely what I'm on my way to do.

I've created an up-and-coming business for myself on Ikoth, reselling valuable stones and items I amass during my travels to other continents. The politics on other continents are quite precarious right now, so New Solas has become my most frequent visit.

Once there, I don't stop until I fill my carriage with precious goods to take back with me to Ikoth. Then I resell at exuberant rates, sweetening the ears for any potential buyer that walks past the threshold of my store.

I'm quite honest most of the time. Bloodstones, nimond beans, pyrion peppers, Ecthelion caviar, whisperquartz, and more. These are not easy things to come by. However, paying two nodals for a bag of nimond beans could raise some brows.

Thankfully, I usually seal the deal before those brows have a chance to move. Soon enough, my wealth will be enough to send me into the upper echelons of Ikoth society. All of Aerasak will know my name. And they'll know I'm a demon who does not wince at a good business deal.

"Pinni, Zinni, do you know where I can find the fangs of a Shozuh crown serpent? It's a highly coveted item in Ikoth, you see. Used in potions and for blood magic rituals." The beasts keep hauling my carriage along. It gets lonely on these travels. "Perhaps one day, I'll have enough money to take you back to Ikoth with me."

The zarryns neigh softly as we continue on our way.

Just as the sun starts its gradual descent towards the horizon, I see an old friend in the distance. Vrask, a cecaelia with just as much ambition for wealth as I have. On land, he stands on his legs, but tentacles extend out of his back, arms, and neck. The tentacles squelch from the excessive moisture continuously oozing from his pores. His green skin matches the hue of the gillyweed I hope to barter from him.

"Took you long enough, Kazrith," he calls out to me, beckoning my zarryns over with a hand. He reaches out to run his sticky hand along my beast, who shies away from his touch.

"Don't bother her," I retort. "She's had a long journey."

"Ah. You've cozied up with the zarryns, too? Soon enough, you'll have the xaphans hanging from your arms."

I scoff at the mere thought of a xaphan trying to get into my good graces. "I'll cut the wings off of a xaphan with my shadows if one dares to talk to me for too long."

"Not yet." Vrask holds up a hand. "We have some trading to do. After that, feel free. Have you forgotten all of the lessons in patience I've given you?"

Dismounting from my carriage seat, I laugh aloud. "That's rich coming from you. You threatened to cut the arm off a selkie the last time it crossed you."

Vrask waves away my remark. "One day you'll understand why. That selkie didn't want to give me what I was owed. He all but deserved that treatment."

Taking my zarryns by the reins, Vrask and I walk toward the bustling trading hub that rests along the outskirts of New Solas. Bustling, loud, and cluttered, the trading hub features merchants from across Aerasak who come to earn a quick nodal or two.

I plan to stay at a tavern here for a few days, amassing as many items as I can before returning to Ikoth. Vrask plans to help me, but he wants part of the profit I make from reselling my goods. Petty bastard. That's what I get for dealing with a cecaelia.

"Have you fared well during your journey?" Vrask asks.

My well-being isn't his top priority, of course. He just wants to know if I'm up for a night of drinking at the closest tavern. That's where I talk up the fellow patrons while he sticks his tentacles into pockets, pulling out whatever sticks onto his skin.

"Good enough. But the xaphan have increased their tax on the port when you arrive, did you know that? They've upped it to two nodals now instead of just one."

Vrask snorts loudly, shaking his head. Some water hits my face because of his tentacles, and I don't do much to hide the grimace that follows.

"I think that's just the tax they impose on demons who come to port. Our fee is still a nodal."

"Bastards."

"They need all the nodals they can get to pay for those pretty castles," Vrask replies with a shrug. "Business is business. You should know that by now."

Of course, I do, and I also know that the xaphans would rather Ikoth get swallowed into the sea. One day, I'll make them eat the disparaging comments they make about demons. I'll strip the wealth from their buildings and haul it all back to Ikoth if I have to.

Just as Vrask aims to pull me into a tavern for a mug of amerinth, I pause and gaze at the auction house across the way. Demons walk in with their prideful strides, pockets full of nodals and novas to buy humans on sale. Usually, the xaphans auction the pathetic creatures for incredible prices.

I just don't understand it.

"Kazrith?" Vrask joins my side again. The fool had already sauntered inside, hoping to get a good drink and a good pickpocketing session in. "What are you still doing out here? Don't tell me you're ogling a human."

"I'll rip your tongue out if you accuse me like that again," I reply firmly, giving him a sharp glare. Vrask rolls his eyes. "I'm only taking in the beautiful views New Solas has to offer."

With a gesture, I point out the disgusting tuskrams that a xaphan hauls around by the horns. The creatures are stout, four-legged, and pot-bellied. Their reddish-pink skin is marred by the shitty soil they like to roll around in. And they smell like death if you get too close.

Not too far from that, there are a few humans chained at the wrists, following a xaphan that leads them to the auction house. Their heads are bowed and the bones jut out from underneath their skin. It's a depressing sight for those who actually care about the well-being of humans.

Around us, traders and customers go about their business as if nothing is wrong. Truly, they have better things to do than to worry about human slaves about to be sold.

"Yes, yes, here you go again with your speech about the discrepancy between the trading hub and the rest of the city. Save the tirade for the xaphans inside, yeah?"

Vrask nudges me by the arm. I have half a mind to materialize another shadow dagger to hold against his throat for hurrying me along like I'm his servant. But it's better not to attract wandering eyes in a place like this.

With a bored expression, I turn to face him. "Will you pay for the drinks this time around?"

"Sure. Whatever. Just come on."

Vrask ducks inside the establishment just as a matron demon bumps into me as she walks past me. She eyes me up and down, grinning wide.

"What's a pretty volvath like you doing in a place like this?" she asks. One of her tentacles reaches out to caress my chin. "Surely, you'd like to spend a night at the pleasure house down the road? We've got a few cute humans tonight. I know how popular they are nowadays."

"I'm not interested."

That's enough to make her sneer at me as she continues on her way, perhaps to the pleasure house she just mentioned. It's incredible how easily demons can be distracted by material pleasures, like the soft body of a human.

None of them have ambition like I do. None of them dream of achieving wealth that will last for generations. Instead, they want to warm their beds with a bunch of humans. Disgust doesn't even begin to describe my feelings about that.

With a small sigh, I retreat into the establishment before Vrask makes a scene. The green-skinned cecaelia never disappoints at turning a quick profit in a place like this, but I have to act as a distraction.

So I approach the bar and ask for a mug of amerinth. Then I turn towards the zephyr next to me, who grumbles loudly at my appearance.

"I believe I've seen you before. Care to repeat your name?" I begin.

"Fuck off, demon. I know your type."

In my peripheral vision, Vrask sends me a nod. We're in for a successful night, indeed.