Page 99 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

I needed to stop fixating, dwelling on the worst possible consequence.

Point was, I liked my glasses and looked bizarre without them.

I hopped in the shower and scrubbed away the anxiety of a life I no longer led, ignoring the fact that someone had already washed away the blood and grime of battle while I rested unconscious. If Bez made one joke about sponge baths, I’d smack him.

Smiling, I focused on the life I had, one where Bez and I would bicker and joke and laugh and everything else. I tried not to dwell on what had happened… I’d died. I’d been resurrected. I was changed, presumably forever. Just enough devil essence to make me strong and immortal and Diabolic-esque, but not so much essence that it’d overtake me, burning through my flesh like before. This devil essence required a host, even without sentience, and as such would now work to keep me alive and well forever.

“Forever,” I said. I repeated the word again and again until it left me with a semantic satiation, the experience when a word was uttered so many times that it seemingly lost all meaning. “What is forever?”

After I stepped out of the shower, I dried off and tossed on my clothes.

“You’re planning to do what?” Bez shouted so loudly I heard him from the opposite end of the villa. “The fuck you are!”

“Hear me out, Bezzy,” Mora whispered.

I cocked my head, drifting down the hall. Bez wasn’t that loud. I mean, it was Bez—he was loud. But this came from enhanced senses. I focused on the grinding gears throughout the home, shifting, clicking, controlling all the magic weaved between every single speck of the foundation. Grimacing, I shook it all away. No. No, I did not like heightened hearing and suddenly understood why Bez preferred to dull his sensory extensions. That’d be the first thing I would ask him to teach me.

Whether curious for what infuriated Bez or eager to see him with his oh-so-trademarked scowl, I darted ahead in a blur arriving at the helm instantaneously. “What’s going on?”

“Wally, you’re all better!” Kell smiled, approvingly. “About time. Although, without your pestering I was finally able to finish all my lovely renovations.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course, she’d taken advantage of my literal death to make changes she knew I’d oppose.

Kell had changed her hair, either through her recovery, a glamour, or possibly wig. In any case, the pink and black streaked pixie cut with a wavy top and short sides looked great on her.

She wore a sleeveless, backless white blouse indicating all her burns had healed in the time I’d been asleep.

“Well? What’s the up and up?”

“Mora is gonna destroy the villa,” Bez blurted.

“I’m not going to destroy it. I’m circumventing the magic to bigger and better uses.”

“Okay,” I asked, keeping my tone steady. “Please explain.”

“Certainly.” Mora ruffled her blonde locks. The new host didn’t have any noticeable Mythic features, which seemed true to form on the parts of Mora I knew—she preferred a human body, no mana or magic, just a regular person. “If you recall, Wally, I lost my Diabolic void after allowing you the privilege of using it, exposing my weavings throughout Seattle to the entire Collective.”

“Privilege,” Bez snapped. “He paid you an ancient, one-of-a-kind artifact.”

Agatha’s Heart. Something Kell had never used to my knowledge. Then again, it could’ve been tucked away in the storage of her witch’s hat which seemed infinite.

“Can I finish?” Mora asked, lips pursed in frustration in a way I surmised only Bez could cause. “Anyway, once I tore down my shadows, I considered relocating. Something I’ve had to do at least once a century no matter how cautious and careful and considerate I am around Collective and Mythic Council territories. So I asked myself, why am I tiptoeing around these fools, again and again?”

“Because they’d slaughter you,” Bez said. “Band together and take you out, even if it costs a few thousand lives.”

“Precisely. I have no interest in going to war. I very much prefer cultivating allies, opposed to making everyone my enemy.” Mora locked her brown eyes, no hint of essence in them, onto Bez. “Unlike some Diabolics I know.”

He scoffed.

“So, what exactly are you going to do?” I asked.

“Thanks to Kell’s mastery of the unknown, along with what Bezzy learned from Eli-dead, and of course, the sweet nothings you muttered while asleep, I’ll be able to finally create my veryown kingdom in the mortal realm.” Mora posed, possibly for flair, or merely satiating her ego and ambition which was clearly as big as Bez had warned—if not bigger.

“Excuse me?”

“Using the cloaking technology, I’m going to create a city, hidden here in Alaska. It’s outside of Collective control, not on top of any Mythic lands, and won’t intervene with mortal dwellings. It’ll be a haven completely adjacent from the mortal realm but an easy hop, skip, and a jump away for anyone who wishes to come and go when traveling this quaint world.”

“And who would be invited to this city?” Bez asked.

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