Rising. Alleria was rising through a clinging blanket of thick dream-like blackness. Incoherent thoughts chased one another in a stomach-tumbling sequence. And then all at once — feelings. Confused, numb, in pain, afraid, sad.

Cassel's face was inches from hers.

She was lying in a mess of jagged broken things upon the living room floor. It was dark save for some light coming in from the kitchen. She was gagged and she assumed her legs were tied too because she couldn't move them.

Cassel's eyes stared ahead, glassy and empty. His mouth was slightly agape, his skin looked ashen and waxy. His blond hair fell across his forehead in a way that, if she could, she would have brushed it aside so it wouldn't tickle his eye.

He wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. He was dead.

Dead.          

Alleria couldn't turn her head to look away and it shamed her that she wanted to. Even through the tears that filled her eyes she could still see his face and know that it was vacant of him. The empty shell that was Cassel was sickening, it was nothing but Cassel-shaped flesh.

She was hauled up and slung over someone's shoulder as if she were no more than a rolled-up carpet. Tears continued to drop out of her eyes. With the gag in her mouth, she wanted to vomit. Instead, she tried to wriggle around to see who her captors were. Including the one holding her and excluding the exorcist, there were half-a-dozen men. If they were priests, she couldn't tell, they had all abandoned the church regalia for simple black clothes. For such a large group, they walked silently, marching down the building stairs without alerting the neighbours. She wondered if someone had heard her scream for help earlier. Had they feared coming for her aid or were they otherwise somehow detained?

She wondered where her parents were.

Cassel's green eyes glimmering as lifelessly as crystals.

She prayed to whomever would listen that her parents hadn't been harmed.

They bodily threw her into the back of a black van parked outside the building, the jarring impact made the gag dig into the corners of her lips, filling her mouth with blood. She hadn't seen this van when she went inside, but she hadn't been looking. She didn't suspect they'd come after her in her own home.

"The danger is never over."

Willum was right, she was a fool and Cassel had paid for that. She wondered what happened to a part-demon soul after death, where would it go? Were there even really souls? Or was it a lie, like everything else?

The door of the van closed with a metal bang pitching Alleria into total darkness. Was she a demon then? Was she evil? If so, what was evil?

Cassel was dead.

That was evil. That was wrong. The van vibrated beneath her as it rolled over the lumpy cobbled streets. The blood in her mouth tasted salty. Her arms were numb and her wrists burned, the shoulder she was lying on hurt but if she moved she'd fall on her face.

An unmeasurable amount of time passed. The road was smooth now, they were no longer in Callivar. The endless discomforts were't recognisable anymore, she couldn't distinguish what hurt. Pain was a monotonous drone as consistent as the hum of the van's motor.

A lock of blond hair falling across his forehead, she wished she could move it aside.

Did anyone find Cassel's body by now? Would anyone recognise him? Will his mother finally come to realise he had been by her side all these years, or was she going to forget his death like she forgot his life?

Waiting for her outside the seminary with his hands in his pockets

The way he beamed at her when she gave him her green muffler.

Blond hair ruffling in the spring breeze.

Oh Cassel. Cassel.

        ***

The van stopped, but for a very long time, there was nothing but the darkness and her ragged breaths. Alleria couldn't stop shivering. A deep, primal fear had risen up through her body, she was hardened and tense, her heartbeat raced, drumming loudly in her ears.

The door opened. The cord tying her ankles was cut, the sudden return of blood-flow made her feet feel prickly and icy. She was told to walk.

Still night-time, outside there was a windy field and an inky sky heavy with stars. She was led across a gravel driveway and down several stone steps, towards a small shadowy building that was little more than a metal door rising up from the ground. The door was opened to reveal more stairs.

Alleria was led below ground. There were only two men with her now, she couldn't make out their faces. They escorted her in silence. The stairs ended in a chilly corridor. They walked on, passing a row of metal doors. The last of these doors was opened, she was pushed inside.

A dank, dimly-lit cell. It smelled of urine and metal, and the sweet, fleshy odour of rotting meat. In the centre was a stone table heavily stained with old, brown blood. There were four black leather cuffs fixed into each of its corners.

She knew what was going to happen.

The cords holding her wrists were slashed, they had been too tight, it felt like they were being torn out from her skin.

She was prodded in the direction of the table.

They were going to cut her, and bleed her, and kill her.

No.

She screamed over the gag, trying to pull her arms out of the men's grips. She kicked her feet and pulled all her weight away from the table. Like a cat struggling to stay out of the bath, a captured animal, she was all instinct and violence.

Alleria had good height for a girl, but aside from that, she was skin and bones. Even as she fought as hard as she could, they dragged her to the table effortlessly. They hauled her atop it, each pinning down an arm and tightly fastening her injured wrists with the leather cuffs. Her legs would not stop kicking, but only one of the men let out an annoyed grunt as they both flattened her feet to the stone and fastened her ankles as well.

It was over. The men left the room.

Alleria watched the door, thoughts chasing through her mind like a frightened flock of birds.

A short moment later, the exorcist flanked by three robe-clad priests entered. He looked tired and nervous, but again radiating that professional air of someone who was doing nothing more than giving a tour of the building.

"...This one we just brought in not ten minutes ago. Left-handed with documented accounts of demonic dealings," he explained to his colleagues as they spread out around the stone table, like a doctor doing the rounds in a hospital. "I suggest we perform its exorcism first because the vessel is somewhat a person of note."

"Who is she?" asked a balding priest with a pointed nose. Alleria noted how his small, watery eyes looked her up and down and how displeased he seemed to be at what he saw.

"Before demonic influence, it was a girl of common birth, a prodigy-child that had won the attention of people above her station. We uncovered its nature through reports of it writing the Exams for the High Academy with its left hand."

The balding man looked her over once more. "The High Academy? Her? What peculiar things do the youth of today get to. Whoever financed such an ambitious attempt?"

"One Alesso Malluri," the exorcist answered with contempt.

"Malluri?" cried a priestess standing on Alleria's left and out of sight. By the depth of her voice she didn't sound young, and her accent had an easy lilt, indicating that she wasn't from Callivar. "Johannes, we have discussed this. It's too early to take on the big sharks now. You will get this project buried before it's even underway."

"DO NOT SPEAK MY NAME IN ITS PRESENCE!" the exorcist bellowed his face red with rage. He drew several deep breaths to curb his anger and when he spoke next, his tone was poisonous. "This one is unlike the others. The danger this demon poses, the damage it can inflict, is beyond comprehension. If we are unable to achieve this, we are naught and we are nothing."

"Do explain, exorcist, how killing this vessel will aid in finding the witch?"

Johannes — Alleria didn't know if this was the exorcist's surname or first name — didn't hide his distaste towards the priestess, but nevertheless answered: "Even among the ones we call Individual, there are different levels of demons. The stronger ones leave barely a trace on the vessel making detection nearly impossible, but their influence is dire for our world. Yet the safety of our children isn't all, demons like these are the greatest weapons in the hands of our enemy. Even now, the witch is honing and manuavireng the power that this demons allows him to access. If we let this demon mature, there will be no stopping that witch."

"If this demon is as powerful as you say it is, how have you trapped it so easily?" the priestess inquired.

"The vessel is still young, it's yet unaware of its power."

"Remove the gag, please," commanded the priestess. "I'm curious to know what this vessel has to say for itself."

Another priest, a younger one with a tanned complexion who, up until now, stood idly by her head, hurried to obey.

"Wait, that's inadvisable," Johannes said. "It will lie to you and test your faith, selling you the innocence of a young girl."

"Surely, dear exorcist, you don't consider my faith fickle?" With the gentle clicking of her boots upon the stone floor, the priestess walked round the table to stand near Johannes. She was a handsome woman rich in years with shoulder-length white hair. She wore the grey robe of priesthood as if it were a gown made of silk and gold-thread. Beside her regal air, there was but one thing to indicate her station.

At her throat hung the Eye of Lavasana, a crystal dagger that marked the Oracle Asrah, the one who speaks with Ulundine, the Owl-God. Though there had not been a true prophecy since the time of Lavasana herself, the legend, or religious lore, proclaimed that a day would come when Ulundine will deliver His word anew.

The position of Oracle was always held by a woman who was deemed wise, and in terms of power, she was only second to the Revered Candle-bearer, head of the Church.

Alleria had always wondered why even the Oracle had to come in second just because she was a woman.

Johannes glared at the Oracle and then looked pointedly at the young priest who reached out and began to untie the knot holding the gag in place. Alleria lifted her head slightly, determined that the priest would touch her as little as possible. After a moment of fumbling, she breathed out in relief when the cloth gag was removed from her mouth. She had to open and close her jaws several times before the pain subsided.

"Have you a name, girl?" asked the Oracle.

"Your holiness, I must warn you —" began Johannes, but was silenced by a glare.

"What did you do to my parents? Did you hurt them?" Alleria demanded hoarsely. The thought of them being subjected to similar treatment enraged her.

The Oracle looked at the exorcist quizzically, he rolled his eyes in reply indicating that the answer was obvious. "We do not harm the innocent, girl," said the Oracle. "Those who are human have nothing to fear."

"You believe I'm not human? You believe I'm dangerous?"

"Conversing with it is futile, your holiness," Johannes protested, tapping his foot impatiently.

Alleria fought against her bonds, she refused to acknowledge the exorcist, her attention was solely on the Oracle. Surely if someone could see the madness in this situation, it would be her. "How long have you been killing children you think are demonic? Was the world about to end before you did? Can't you see what you're doing? You're murderers."

Johannes sighed and looked coldly at her, his face was stiff and wooden. She was a thing in his eyes, and it was a great inconvenience for him that she was capable of speech. "Upset about that creature back there, demon? An abstraction, it wasn't even of your kind, not even worth mentioning."

"HE WAS A PERSON!" Alleria cried, bile rising in her throat and tears welling in her eyes. "YOU MURDERED HIM!"

"What does she refer to, Johannes?" asked the Oracle, frowning deeply.

"Nothing but a wraith that barely even had form. I'm surprised it held at all without dissipating. I believe this demon's power sustained it, not unlike a remora clinging to a shark."

"I see." To Alleria's dismay, the Oracle appeared to be satisfied. "I agree it is rather daunting that she's ignorant to her own nature. It creates quite the paradox for us, doesn't it? For in her mind, she's innocent and indeed, she is yet to commit any evil."

"Please, your holiness, I'm not evil. I wished to become a Scholar, to help people." Even in Alleria's own ears, her words sounded childish and feeble. "Don't do this."

"Yes, you must think we're the evil ones. I can see that," said the Oracle thoughtfully. "But we are left with no choice. This is not the first such ceremony I've witnessed, demons are real and terrible. They are a true threat to mankind. If you are an innocent child, you will live through this trial, God will protect you."

The Oracle retreated, taking a seat somewhere out of Alleria's sight. Hope for salvation crumbled in an instant, replaced by a bleakness that was more frightening than the small knife the exorcist wielded.

"Commence," ordered the Oracle of Asrah.