Though there wasn't much to marvel at here, Morana liked exploring the rural area. It reminded her of her home with the gryphon-borns. The small huts, people working and laughing and enjoying a rest in between. Morana never quite felt in place among grandeur or bustling towns, so this was a welcome change.

She didn't know where exactly her father grew up. Which house it was, or even which area. The further she wandered in, the more depressing the poverty became. Kids playing in the dirt, dressed only in rags. Old demons with dull horns dragging heavy bundles to their homes. The buildings in the darkness of the cave were dilapidated, barely livable, but Morana still heard some sniffling souls who escaped there for the sense of a home.

Would they have found better work if they had access to the surface? Many races up top could need the strong arms of a demon for field work or errands, and they would pay well. But instead, even young and able-bodied people rotted away because they couldn't match the battle for the top.

Some were cruel to each other. Stealing the little food they had or trying to feel better for themselves by bullying those even weaker and smaller than them. It was nonsense, since their true enemy sat up top, ignorant of their suffering or selling them as slaves. Morana sighed when she had to twist the wrist of a young boy trying to snatch her bundle off her back, but the demon stumbled away unharmed, spitting insults about her appearance.

They needed change. In a decade without a tyrannical king, the people here didn't get any better. If the demons found no purpose for themselves, many on the surface would.

On her way back, Morana pondered their quaint surroundings, humble yet freer than the crowded town above. She wandered idly, thinking of ways to address them and tell them that Seonghwa was back and he offered help for any who suffered from the war, so long as they promised him allegiance. The demons up top needed to hear different promises than the people down here. Deep in her thoughts, she didn't notice the curious eyes following her until a voice called out.

"Hello, there."

Morana lifted her head and spotted an old woman in a rocking chair out in front of her little hut. She was happy just watching her surroundings, and she sighted the odd demon girl strolling back and forth.

Morana slowed to nod her head politely.

"Hello."

"Are you new here? I haven't seen you around," the old demon asked her and Morana made sure no one was hiding around her to ambush her at the call of a sweet old lady before she drew nearer. The blinking eyes of this woman couldn't see well and the lines withering her massive set of curled horns gave away her age. When she caught proper sight of Morana, she hummed to herself, pleased to find a rare beauty among her folk.

"Just visiting, I suppose. Exploring my roots," Morana replied to her, glad to find someone normal to talk to. This old lady seemed interested in learning about her, but she stayed in her chair, idly rocking and allowing Morana to decide whether she wanted to talk.

"Did you find what you were searching for?"

Morana glanced over her shoulder at the barren fields. Heard the cackling of some kids bullying a bird nearby.

"Not really... I thought this place would feel more familiar to me, but.... I'm still the odd one out," she mumbled, and the old demon nodded wisely.

"Home can mean many things. Even to those living here, it sometimes isn't," she replied with a wistful sigh. Perhaps she also once lived on the surface, had friends and a home there. Perhaps her acceptance of Morana's differences came from there. Those who only lived down here, fighting and arguing all day, they became ignorant.

"Yeah, I think I realised where home is for me," Morana said since she didn't want to give away too much information, and the old demon smiled serenely. She was missing some teeth, but her grin still looked kind on her weathered face.

"It's good to know where you belong. So, what do you think of this place?" She beckoned a brittle hand around the fields and Morana shrugged. Mingi couldn't exactly describe this to her. But she supposed if the harvest was good and if the people had work, it would bloom differently.

"It's changed. From what I heard. Wasn't it a military superpower in the past?"

The old woman nodded again. Her frown told Morana everything she needed to know about how the demons had been faring since the war. Whatever promises Yongguk made for them didn't come true. They didn't get to plunder, didn't get to take over the surface with their new emperor on his bloodied throne. Instead, they were shunned by all else. Their retreat to the cavern didn't make them stronger, but instead shut them off from any advantages in trade and exchange.

"Since the war, we have been divided into fractions. Everyone is leery of one another. The people of the lower level always relate to one another, but up there, it's cutthroat. We have a thieves' guild, mercenaries, merchant guilds... Each with their own leader who tries to take over. None of them can promise it will be better, though. They just want a seat of power," the demon explained to her, and Morana hummed. She expected that much, that's why she came. The demons couldn't govern themselves and if they did, it was only ever for war.

"Do you think we can gather them for a talk?" Morana asked, but her companion shook her head.

"Blood will flow."

Also expected. Though unfortunate. Morana couldn't fight the entire demon race for her mission. But they made it sound as if they only listened to someone who did.

Perhaps there was a shortcut?

"Then could you point me to the one with the most influence up there?"

Though mild worry tinted the demon's voice since she wasn't sure what Morana was up to, she gave her the information she needed.

"That would be the prior commander of our armies. He has earned a lot of fame and is currently uniting everyone who will follow him and killing the leaders who won't. We are confident he will be king soon. A cruel king, like the last."

Common among demons, but not what they needed right now. They needed a firm hand to guide them, yes, but they didn't need someone to lead them into their doom against the reborn empire. Morana heard enough from San's people to know he precariously balanced the seraphim from slaughtering everyone in this place.

Morana nodded with gratitude. She didn't know yet whether she could succeed, but she might find a way to prove herself.

"Fine, then he's my target. I'll see if I can talk any sense into those thick skulls of theirs. And Yeosang says I'm the stubborn one..." She muttered the last part to herself, but the demon lady smiled nonetheless. Her old age meant she had no kids, or that they died trying to kill her. A lonesome life, but Morana was glad to have met her. Perhaps the demons would have more wisdom if not for their habit of killing off their elders upon becoming adults.

And if even Morana thought so after loathing whenever the adults around her gave her orders...

But no, the current demons were young and hot-blooded and out for war. Morana could give them that.

"The fraction of your parent might be more likely to help you, child. Might see your spirit for its strength," the woman said before Morana went on her way and Morana adjusted her bundle.

"Oh... He grew up down here," she said carefully, mindful not to give away her identity, but this old lady wouldn't know if Morana followed demon customs.

"Then perhaps you may find kinship here. We are tighter woven than the demons on the upper level. If your promise resonates with the people your father belonged to, you may have their support."

Morana doubted it, but she smiled nonetheless.

"I will remember that. Thank you." She bowed her head deeper this time. "You helped me a lot. I wish you a nice day."

"You too, child. Take care on your journey," the demon smiled, then she closed her eyes to rest from their conversation.

Morana left her to her rocking as her steady steps brought her through the village. She had a goal in mind now, so she jumped up the stairs to dive back into the bustle and haughty stares up top. As if they were any better. They had money, sure, but anyone starved the same. Died the same following a foolish king.

Morana beelined straight for the towering arena. It was the second largest building next to the palace, since the demons cared little for places of worship or libraries. The noise from inside was deafening in the streets nearby. Hollering and growling as the clashes of blades and wood drowned in the cheer of the audience. Many demons preferred to fight with their horns and bare hands, and Morana figured some of them would shift to their berserker form just to enjoy the blood frenzy, since everything else seemed hopeless at this point.

She didn't let it deter her. She walked into the cave of a dragon before and visited the orc tunnels full of agony. Nothing would be scarier than that.

Some teller stood next to the entrance with a piece of parchment and talked to the people nearby. Morana waited for her moment to march up to him and stemmed her hands on her hips.

"Hello, I would like to sign up to fight," she demanded, eyes blazing.

For a moment, the teller stood stunned, not even sure what he was looking at. Then he squinted at her and broke out in surprised laughter.

"Who do you pipsqueak want to fight?" He snickered since she was many times smaller than other demons, only strong when compared to other surfacers. (Not Jongho, she missed Jongho.)

"Whoever speaks for the commander of you barbarians," Morana demanded. The commander might not be present himself, but if Morana could create big enough ripples to reach him, she might catch enough attention to gain an audience. Best way to do that was to fight whoever the commander sent to their arena to show his fraction's strength. If some huge demon lost against a little darkspawn girl, they might think twice who to hire.

But the teller in front of her found her plan hilarious.

"Hah! He will drink your blood," he threatened her as if that would make her leave, but Morana stood firm. They attracted a crowd of curious onlookers since darkspawn were rarely this rowdy, rather disappearing behind the demons. Some of them cheered to let her in so they could see the colour of her blood.

Morana didn't let their malice disturb her.

"Yes, yes. What are the rules?" She demanded, and the teller looked baffled now that she would insist when it seemed to be so clear she would lose.

"No rules. You die, you lose," he explained lamely, and Morana snatched the list from his hands to jot down her title herself. 'Darkspawn pipsqueak' would be clear enough. When she was done, she thrust the document back against his chest.

"Perfect, thank you."

The teller caught himself from his stumble, in disbelief with her glare. Then he shook it off.

"People will be paying to see this. Gather, everyone! Some darkspawn lass with a massive ego signed up for a spanking by a proper man!" He hollered across the crowd and the bystanders, who hadn't planned to go to the arena today, immediately signed up to see her get mauled.

"Ruin that pretty face. Make her bleed," some man snickered as he paid a few jingling coins into the teller's pocket. He grinned cruelly at Morana when he passed her, and Morana angled her horns at him as a threat.

"Can I kill the audience, too?" She asked the teller as she passed him, suddenly swamped by a massive crowd. All the better. The more people saw her win, the faster word would spread.

"Pah, try if you dare," the teller scoffed before he waved her away to get trampled. Morana followed the flux of people inside, hand on the axe on her belt and heart icy with determination.