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B2 ch. 7 Iron Horn, Complete once more FINISHED CH

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Sophie had a smile on her lips as she finished drying the last china bowl. Today’s cooking lesson went surprisingly well with Damion when he assisted her with making the soup, even when he knew she was making it for his former teacher. Instead of arguing with her, or letting her do as she pleased he decided to help instead. Though his cooking skills still had ways to go, at least he didn’t burn anything—this time. She couldn’t help but feel giddy when her demon actually wanted to learn from her. Plus, he did earn some bonus points with her when he actually took the soup to the sickly demon. He really did have a kind side to him.

After their cooking lesson she insisted on doing the dishes as he took Rook into the weaponry room to train, leaving the kitchen in silence with only Sophie's soft humming, Rubies deep breathing as the dog slept just outside the kitchen on the comfy sofa, and the clattering of dishes being cleaned; creating a calming atmosphere. 

She dried her hands off with a cloth as she turned away from the sink, but nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a dark figure in the corner of her eye. “Oh,” she squeaks, covering her chest to steady her heart when she sees it is only the elder demon. “You scared me.” She took note that the fully clothed demon’s coloring was better and his sweating was minimal compared to how it was before. Though, she would have preferred he’d stay in bed until it was absolutely necessary for him to be moving about.

The collector took a couple steps back when he realized he was standing too close. “Forgive me,” he said quietly. He seemed to struggle with himself, not making eye contact with her before handing her the empty soup bowl and silver spoon.

“Thank you,” he managed to say before she took the bowl from him, not even shying away at his sharp talons. 

She smiled at him, hearing how genuine his words were, despite the struggle he was having with himself. “You’re welcome, I can make you some more if you’d like.” 

His brow furrowed as he struggled on what to say next that wouldn’t come off as ignorant, guarded, or threatening. ‘Damn, how the hell do humans do…what’s it called again?...Socializing?

“It’s not necessary—,” he nearly released a hiss as a sharp pain, like a knife on a nerve, shot up his shattered horn. He lightly gripped the base of his horn to put pressure on it, as he steadied himself with the kitchen’s island.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her voice rising to a higher pitch along with her worry.

“It will pass.” He gritted his teeth as he made his way to the kitchen table to have a sit; it was easier to bear when he didn’t have to stand. During his time in the Underworld this familiar pain was muffled due to the power of the underworld, but after his fight with Rook, his old wound has been flared to life, and remaining on the surface was only letting the pain in his horn build. 

The demon bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to rid of the pain, his free hand nearly leaving gouges in the wooden table. 

Sophie definitely didn’t like the look of it when she noticed something oozing from the cracks of the horn. She didn’t know much about a collector’s horn, but one thing was certain, they were very sensitive, and could only imagine the agony he was going through.

“May I check your horn?” She asked seriously, as she stood before him. He gave her the okay with a sharp nod as he kept his eyes screwed shut. He felt her hand on his shoulder as she slowly walked behind his chair, he could feel her emerald gaze on him as she searched for something.

Her hunch was right, the horn was secreting puss just inside the opening of where his horn was snapped off. Now that she was this close, she could smell the horrible stench of rotting flesh and blood. She could feel her stomach do a flip as she repressed the urge to vomit. 

“What is it?” He asked through squinted eyes when he noticed her silence.

She bit her lip in thought, “This doesn’t look good at all…Your horn has an infection: it needs to be cleaned out.” She moved to stand before him again, looking straight into his eyes. “It will be painful…Will you be okay?”

If this was the source of his suffering he was willing to try. “Do what you must.” He prepared himself as she went to retrieve clean hand towels, a bar of soap, and a bowl of warm water from the kitchen sink. 

She soaked one of the rags with the warm water while stroking the soap against the ashen cloth, before squeezing the excess water out. Sophie cautiously approached the wound with tender care, first touching the base of the horn before slowly working her way to the infected tip. Her eyes taught the stiffness of his shoulders, and this time his claws did dig deep into the wood, yet he remained as still as a statue.

“Sorry,” she whispered as she got to work cleaning out the puss that had built up in the horn, she could just fit two of her slender fingers into the hole with the cloth. She tried not to gag at the smell, sight, or feel as she cleaned the opening, drawing out the infection, and with its bits of broken horn. The fragments left in the open wound might have been the cause of the infection. 

She could feel his frame shaking, his neck covered in sweat, and with barely a sound of protest or complaint. She made quick work, and before long she had finished cleaning out the infection. 

‘But how long before it becomes infected again?’ She thought as she applied a dry cloth to the damp horn, but this time she wouldn’t wrap it up like last time.

‘Perhaps Joseph might have a solution.’ She could recall the farmer always having a troublesome goat that got into trouble, even broke his horn once. 

She lips struggled to contain a smile when she compared a goat to this demon, and the thought of Rook calling him ‘old goat’ didn’t make it easy either, as that said demon turned around in question at the odd look on her face.  She dares not let the demon hear her thoughts of comparing his situations with a goat’s.

She cleared her throat to cover up her mirth as she used a clean cloth to dry her hands. “There, I hope that helps until I can find a permanent solution. For now, I’ll brew you some tea with some medicine to help with the pain.” She cleared the table of her cleaning utensils before making her way to the kettle.

The elder demon gingerly reaches up to touch the base of his horn, though there was still a dull throbbing he could tell it was an improvement. “I will adjust,” he grunted as he listened to her filling a kettle for the stove. He waited patiently, as he thought carefully about how he was going to word the question he had been meaning to ask.  Peaceful moments passed before the whistle from the kettle jarred him from his thoughts, while Sophie almost seemed to glide around the kitchen, knowing where everything was and having an art-like-form when serving him his tea. She added two teaspoons of powder into his tea before sweetening it with a cube of sugar, then poured herself a cup and sugar as she comfortable sat at the table with him.

She took a delicate sip as she glanced at him above the brim of her cup. “Is there something you want to ask me?” She giggled at the look on his face before it quickly melted back to stone.

He nearly bit his tongue, a little disturbed by her ability to read the smallest of signs in the most stoic of faces. He put his cup back down, his eyes focused on the reflection as he mustered up his courage to ask her, “… If it is not too much trouble, could you assist me with something else?”

She also put her cup down before joining her hands together to rest her chin on. “What is it you need?”

He looked back up to see bright emerald eyes. “Enlightenment?” 
~~~~

He was beginning to regret asking the little human for guidance. She was spontaneously energetic, practically dancing circles around him as she explained all the joys that there was at ‘being human’, and she thought it important that while she shared her knowledge, to travel from the kitchen to the greenhouse, and currently the living room. It was almost making him dizzy as he tried to keep up with her as she explained everything she knew. It was a wonder how her mouth kept up with her brain and was still able to breathe in-between comments. It was only when they moved to Damion’s main library room that he could breathe easy.

Sophie swung gracefully on the rolling ladder, giving enough momentum for the ladder to stop at the exact spot she was aiming for as she pulled out an old, heavy leather book. She smiled lovingly at the cover before hoping down to present her new friend with a gift. 

He cautiously took the book from her hands, looking at the deeply indented words that said, ‘The Book of Heroes.’  

“What exactly is this for?” He asked her curiously, taking a seat across from her as she settled on the couch; her dog nestling comfortably by her side.

“Your enlightenment,” she said, urging him to open one of her precious treasures. If he thought she was loony he kept it to himself and indulged her, first leaning back in his chair, and then turning to page one.
~~~~

Her lips quirked with each brief flicker of emotion that managed to show in the demon’s eyes as he became engrossed in the book, he was already half way through it thirty minutes in. He rarely stopped only to ask her a question when he couldn’t wrap his mind around it, why hero’s of history and myth did what they did. 

She supposed they didn’t have such books in the underworld. In the beginning, Damion mostly only had books about tactics, spells, weaponry, and very little about the history of soul collectors. Thankfully she filled his bookshelves with books of every kind that she could get her hands on at the market when she shopped. It didn’t take long for her demon to become enticed by the stories of man and take many sittings with her when they read in peace. 

“Why would an ordinary human go to such lengths, to risk his life when everyone is against him?” The demon asked, rousing her from her thoughts.

She rose from her spot to see where he was in the book, he was currently reading about one of the knights of justice. It had a beautiful illustration of the knight who wore the armor of pure silver and a red cross, while his helmet was decorated with a crimson feather piece. His weapon was a mighty lance as he stayed mounted on his stormy gray steed, as he stood between a mob and a wounded woman, protecting her from their wrath as they accused her of witchcraft. He was a man of justice, one who stood by his beliefs and protected the wrongly accused.

Sophie tucked her golden hair behind her ear as she explained, “Victor the Righteous always did what was needed, even if it meant risking his own life in the process. He didn’t do it for the glory, but because it was the right thing to do…a lot like how all the collectors risk their lives for us.”

He raised his head in thought, he never thought of his duty like that before. It was his task yes, but only because his dark lord had ordered it of all his soldiers…yet when he observed Damion and Rook…how they pushed themselves as the likes he’d never seen before in his five-hundred years—all for the sake of protecting this village and more particularly, the golden-haired beauty standing beside him. 

‘Does it feel somehow more…gratifying to take action because of your own choosing over orders from another?’ He wondered, his brows crinkling as he looked back at the detailed illustration again. 

A sudden thought occurred to her as she glanced over at the demon. “You know…We should give you a name,” she innocently suggested.

A name? He never understood the importance of such a thing. “Why do you insist?”

“Well you see…it’s just…everyone needs a name. How else could you tell each other apart—to acknowledge others and to be acknowledged by others? Why would anyone choose to be a nameless figure, as if you never existed?”

He was beginning to wonder that himself as he took in her wise words and questioning his lord.

He sighed, “Very well. What name would you give me?”

That question certainly surprised her, but at least he was cooperating. “You don’t want to give yourself a name?”

“I have only acknowledged three names during my stay here. Two are currently in use by my comrades, and I do not wish to possess your name.” 

She laughed at his comment with mirth, which only confused the demon as he tried to understand her current display of emotion.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” She bit her lip from commenting on how the demon almost looked adorable in his confused state. “It would please me to give you a name…if you still want me to.”

He approved with a nod of his head. “You may.”

She didn’t have long to think on it, as her eyes looked towards the book he still held in his hand, the illustration practically giving her the perfect name. “I think the name Victor suits you.”

The demon’s eyes sluggishly blinked once before testing out his name in a staleness tone, “Victor…It will suffice.” If he felt anything at that moment he was hiding it very well from her sharp eyes.

She puffed up at his lack of enthusiasm, not even a hint of a smile. ‘Baby steps Sophie,’ she had to remind herself. “Well don’t get too excited now,” she teased.

The clock struck thirty minutes passed seven, alerting all collectors under the roof that they would soon be departing. The blonde took that as her cue to pick up and put her pile of books back on the shelf. As she slipped another novel back into its rightful spot she decided to try and familiarize him with his new identity. “You can keep the book if you want to, Victor.”

It took him a moment to raise his head, his eyes blinking in the realization that she actually was addressing him. It was a strange feeling—a mixture of unnamed emotions stirring within that he didn’t understand, but was not an unwelcome one as he held the worn book with great care. He could only thank her before he rose from his chair… only to stop dead in his tracks to find Rook leaning against the door frame with a look that could only be described as a ‘shit-eating-grin.’

‘How the hell do they keep sneaking up on me?’

“So the old goat has a name of his own now? Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Rook mocked, unable to resist pointing out this turn of events. After Damion caught him up on everything during training he had to see it for himself.

The newly named Victor visibly stiffened as he hides the book to his side from view—his eyes glaring daggers at the insufferable brat who dared to further wound his pride. Though, his ire died when he felt immense satisfaction when the spunky little beauty approached fast as a whip and had Rook by the ear.

‘So she’s familiar with one of our weak points? Impressive.’ He’d have to remind himself to keep his distance if he ever invoked her wraith.

“Rook…do I need to remind you on how to treat others?” Her usual smile had an edge of warning to it. She meant business and intended to keep the peace.

He hides his minuscule fear behind a cheeky grin. “Easy Shrimp, I’m only kidding,” he chuckled as the demon pried his ear free. “I just came to recruit the old go—“ he faltered when she gave him that stern look, “—Ehm—Victor, so we can have a word in private before we take off tonight.”

“Alright, you guys’ better stay safe,” she said, being all motherly as she straightened her brother’s hood collar.

He didn’t bother to stop her, even though it caught the old goat’s notice on how comfortable and close the two were. “You got it, Shrimp.”  

“Now…any requests for dinner?” She piped, as she returned to restocking her books.

The green horn showed an impressive set of fangs that gleamed with a smile. “I want roasted chicken and potatoes.”

Victor noticed his mouth begin to water at the thought; if her other meals were as tantalizing as the soup he had this morning, he looked forward to trying more of her cooking.

He was jarred from his thoughts when Rook cuffed him on his shoulder with a, “Let’s go,” and walked out of the room. As he began to follow, the demon felt Sophie’s hand on his forearm, he glanced down to see her soft eyes looking up at him as she spoke, “You stay safe too, Victor.”

There it was again, that strange warmth in his chest he couldn’t describe her actions. The corners of his mouth tweaked as he attempted a smile. It felt awkward, almost forced yet she didn’t seem bothered as she returned one of her own natural smiles before letting him take his leave.

As expected, Rook was waiting just outside the door, Victor noted that the cheery attitude he had before was gone as he got into his face with a hushed whisper, “I don’t know what your game is, but if you do anything to hurt her or Damion, I won’t hesitate to split open your skull: again.”

‘You could try, brat! I won’t let you best me a second time.’ He bit the inside of his cheek before releasing a sigh. He had to remain docile if he wanted to gain any ground with the younger demon.

He leaned away before walking down the hall. “Calm yourself, Rook, I have no intentions of harming your circle, my reasons are my own.”

‘What they are exactly I do not know, myself’

Rook walked right behind him, still unsure how he felt about their new ally. Sophie was already getting too friendly with him for his liking, and Damion seemed to trust him. “For your sake, you better not be lying.”

The rest of their short walk was in silence as they headed towards the armory. Damion’s vast collection of weapons and armor of the human and demon world was impressive, as each was displayed either on the walls or modeled on stands as if armored warriors were preparing for battle. You could practically see the history in them in their battle worn markings.

Victor, unfortunately, couldn’t fully appreciate such craftsmanship for long as his attention was drawn back to the center of the room, where Damion and his own two students stood. The first thing that caught his attention was the ice cold, piercing blue eyes of his male rookie, as they scrutinized him with a hard stare. The elder hassently hide his book from view again before smoke formed around the tome—casting a spell as he sent his gift into his room where it would remain from prying eyes. The second thing he noticed was the condition both his underlings had deteriorated to.

Signs of withdrawal such as dark circles around the eyes, sweating, and a subtle shaking of their hands were beginning to surface. His noted his female rookie struggled to keep her eyes open and also swaying from one foot to the other subtly as she tried to remain indifferent to her new foreign needs. The Mohawk-male however, stood rigged while he continued to clench and unclench his fists and jaw, almost grinding his teeth as he awaited his orders. They both weren’t at their peak, but it would have to do.

Damion was going over tactics with them as he displayed a map that showed an incredible layout of the village and roads going in and out of town. There was red xs of where they encountered the bizarre uprisings of the heavy number of soul eaters. It was a good strategy as Damion explained in detail of the other encounters he faced, where they were, and what the beasts own tactics were as they tried to overthrow him.

However, Damion’s words of wisdom seemed to fall on deaf ears as Victor’s underlings seemed unimpressed; a rookie mistake. Victor, on the other hand, soaks it all in as he came up with his own tactics if he was faced with another encounter as last nights. After Damion dismissed them, the rookie’s didn’t bother walking out of the mansion and instead teleported themselves outside with a large gust of smoke.

Damion frowned at the show of ignorance. ‘Such a waste of energy, if they aren’t more conservative with their magic it will come back to bite them in the ass.’ While Rook, on the other hand, chose to walk out, his wings spreading open as he prepared for flight.

“So, now you have a name of your own?” Damion clarified as he turns to face Victor alone. He had heard the whole conversation; just because he had more trust in his teacher, didn’t mean he was comfortable enough to let his guard down when he was alone with Sophie.

The elder grunted, “It appears so…It is best if we don’t speak of this openly to my students, they are already uneasy with being here. They wouldn’t understand.”

Victor walked beside Damion, as they began to make their departure from the mansion.  “You’re probably right; for now,” Damion said in the hallway, before he added, “But if I know Sophie, she will undoubtedly try to gain their trust. It’s in her nature.” The thought brought a proud smile to his face.

Victor glanced at Damion before looking forward again, “I am beginning to understand your fascination with her.”

Damion’s tone became guarded at the thought of his teacher possibly becoming attracted to her. “Meaning?”

His teacher gave him a deadpan stare as they finally reached the cold outside world, “Relax Damion, I’m not going to steal your woman. I’ll admit, I find her beautiful and charming—for a human— but I would never fall for one as you have.” The very thought of it would have made him laugh…if he knew how. He didn’t have time to think about such ridiculous, impossible thoughts as the demon took to the skies, ready for the night’s hunt.
~~~~~

The next week had become interesting to say the least, such as making the impossible—possible…Like convincing a 500 year old demon to stroll into town with a certain blonde. This newly developed relationship was still fragile and new, but that only drove Sophie to strengthen it, and she had this bit-of-a-crazy thought rolling in her head that just might work. It has been nagging at her for two days now when she created a routine with Victor, as he rose every morning and allowed her to clean the infection from his horn—which was almost healed now. 

She wanted to ask how he lost his horn but reframed when she knew it was still a sensitive subject with him. She suspected it involved Damion somehow, for even though they were on better terms Sophie could almost swear she could see Victor stiffen his spine whenever Damion came too near his horns. 

Besides Victor’s development, his underlings, however, have not budged. They were stubborn that was for sure, but how much longer could they refuse sleep and nourishment. The female, in particular, looked as if a stiff wind would blow her over any minute as the dark circles only grew darker under her eyes, and the male demon looked like he would snap any minute from the slightest irritation. Sophie wisely avoided him, but still left them both meals outside their doors, which sadly continued to be untouched.

‘Stubborn demons,’ Sophie mused softly to herself as she became roused from her thoughts and finished looking through a basket of fresh eggs then paid the farmer. She glanced behind her to view Victor, as the willowy demon stood uncomfortably in a crowd of unsuspecting people as they went about their day. He made a very handsome human, as her eyes caught sight of the women looking at him with a dust of pink upon their cheeks. She rolled her eyes at the sight. ‘If they only knew’, she thought as she went to one of her last two destinations, beckoning Victor to follow when he looked cemented on the spot.

‘I do not like this.’ The cloaked demon thought bitterly as another human bumped into him. If the fool had known he had just brushed shoulders with a soul collector, the man would have keeled over from a heart attack. Victor was beginning to question his sanity as he followed behind Sophie again. The woman had somehow convinced him to wear the skin of a human and actually walk into the village during the day. ‘Perhaps I am suffering from brain damage,’ he thought as he stopped once again and observed when Sophie suddenly stood before a Sheppard as he herded his flock of sheep and goats through the market. She seemed to know the man as she chatted with him in a relaxed manner, sometimes throwing a smile his way as if she had a secret she wasn’t going to share with the demon. 

It was oddly frustrating. 

He could just ease drop on her conversation, but he wasn’t the kind to invade private conversations. Whatever she was up too, he would find out eventually. But he did watch intently as she seemed to ask the Sheppard questions, then jotted down his reply on a parch of paper before stuffing the notes back into her basket then thanked him for his time.

“Aren’t they cute?” She cooed when she picked up a baby goat, stroking its floppy ear and tiny little nubs for horns and brought it closer to Victor.

The kid in her arms stared up at the demon with a wide gaze and curious sniffs before releasing a high pitch cry, as if it was calling to one of its own kind. Sophie giggled sweetly at the sour look on Victor's face.

“Hn,” was his short reply, refusing to answer.

Gently putting the kid back down, she asked, “Is it alright if we make one more stop?”

Now, he didn’t have to follow along. He could have just walked back to the mansion and left her on her own. He could have said something—anything to excuse himself from this slow torture. Instead, as she smiled expectantly at him he found himself saying, “Lead the way.”

‘Dammit.’

The girl had an almost dance to her step as she went down the market, her warm, but finely designed dress swaying with every step. She was bright, colorful, and vibrant and just stuck out in the crowd of muted and neutral colors that the townspeople bared. He couldn’t lose sight of her if he tried, not that he worried that he would for they were already at their final destination. It smelled strongly of oil, iron, and sweat as he observed the sign that bore an image of man as he strikes at hot metal on an anvil with his hammer. He thought this surely couldn’t be the place, but she went in, right before she asked him to wait outside.

‘What on earth would she need to visit a Black Smiths for?’ He thought, baffled.

*~*~

Sophie lowered her hood as she walked deeper into the building. She didn’t have to wait long before she heard the familiar sound of hammers banging at metal in the background. 

“Excuse me,” she politely called out, letting the duo blacksmiths aware of her presence. 

“That you, miss Sophie?” The older and owner of the two blacksmiths called out when he paused at his swinging. He threw the iron horseshoe into the water before grabbing a rag to wipe the sweat from his brow and drenched cropped ginger hair.

“Good evening, Duncan,” She greeted to the Scotsmen. He was the town’s only blacksmith, but his metal became works of art in his rough but skilled hands.

“Good evening to you lass. Ma son has almost finished your commission,” he said, his accent thick and friendly.

“Could I get a little peek at it?”

He chuckled at her eagerness. “Aye, I don’t see why not.” He pulled back the rug that separated the front entrance from the workshop, “Angus! Put yah hammer down and get yer hairy arse out here.” 

“Alright Da,” a younger voice yelled back before a loud metallic ‘thunk!’ was heard and a young man came out from behind the hung rug.

“Hello Sophie,” Angus greeted shyly as a blush crept into his cheeks. Whether it was from the intense heat in the back or at the lovely sight of her, no one knew. 

Angus was nowhere near the width of his father, but still well-built from years of working with metal. His hair was also a pitch black—not ginger like his fathers, as he had it tied back into a small ponytail. Sophie did have a crush on him when they were younger, for he was one of Oliver’s good friends growing up that was nice to her. Though, he probably didn’t notice her much since she was always too shy to hold many conversations back then. He had grown to be quite the strapping young man. 

She smiled at him and his heart squeezed. “Evening Angus, how is my commission coming along?”

“It just needs a few more details to match the sketch you gave me and it should be finished,” he said behind his shoulder as he pulled out a box from one of the shelves. Inside was a beautifully carved metal horn. It held a tightly swirled design, like that of a longhorn ram, with little swirling designs etched at the opening. He laid it out on the table before them, with a crinkled piece of paper, as he began to unfold it and lay it beside the metal horn; it was spot on to the very detailed drawing Sophie had provided— which she managed by secretly measuring Victors remaining horn with her hands when she was cleaning the cracks, then drawing it to scale on paper. Getting it commissioned was the easy part as she said told them she wanted a metal goblet as a centerpiece. 

She touched the smooth, cool surface before picking it up. It was amazingly light n’ shiny, she couldn’t fathom how the young blacksmith was able to create something that looked so intricately made from pieces of iron and steel. “It’s so beautiful, Angus. Your father should be proud.”

You could hear the pride in the father’s voice as he wrapped his arm around his son and gave a few rough shrugs. “Aye, I knew ma boy could do it.”

The young man gave a bashful smile as he took the metal horn in Sophie’s outstretched hands and put it back in its box. “I should have it completed by tomorrow evening.”

Clasping her hands together in excitement she said, “That’s perfect. Here, let me give you the rest of my payment.” She dug around in her bag before pulling out her coin pouch, placing the dozen of silver coins into Duncan’s huge hand.

“Thank you, lass ma son will personally deliver your goblet to you.” He said with a smile and a wink.

She stuck out her hand, waiting for Angus to shake it, “I’ll see you then.”

He looked hesitant at her clean, petite hands compared to his large, rough ones. “I can’t, I don’t want to dirty your hands.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s just a bit of dirt—,” she reached out for his hand, giving it a firm shake, “—hardly a sacrifice on my end when I want to show my respect.” After releasing his hand, she gathered all of her things with a “Goodbye,” at her back as she left their shop.

“Bye, Sophie…”

Before he let his son slip into another day dream, Duncan punched the boy’s shoulder.

“Ache! What was that for yah bassa?!” He said with a grunt, rubbing at the sore spot. 

“For being a doaty and letting that beautiful lass slip through ya fingers!”

He gave his old man a deadpan stare before slumping with a heavy sigh. “Thanks for the reminder of my childhood crush Da.”

He gave his son a gentle, sympathetic shake on his shoulder. “What are fathers for?”

*~*~*~ 

After Sophie’s secret meeting with the blacksmiths, she had tried to be subtle as possible around the oblivious demon, but his sharp eyes kept catching her traitorous smile every time she glanced at him—particularly at the top of his head as she pictured her gift perched perfectly in place for his missing horn. 

‘I’m so excited for tomorrow to hurry up and get here!’

She must have been glancing back one too many times when Victor’s face began to darken with a scowl.

“Mind sharing what you find so humorous about my face, or for that matter, what you’ve been up to?” He asked dryly, eyeing her suspiciously since she emerged from the black smith’s shop. The demon noted that she brought nothing out with her, further puzzling him what her odd motives were. 

They made no sense to him. She made no sense to him.

‘Is she commissioning a weapon?  Was this her plan the whole time and she really is just being sneaky and laughing behind my back as I let my guard down?’ He thought darkly as his old defensive and tactics line of thinking for over five centuries began to surface. 

He instantly had to scratch that off his list when she quickly twirled back to confront him face-to-face, a look of worry took hold of her face that immediately disarmed his defensive thinking. He foolishly forgot for a moment the kind of person she was, especially since her soul was so easy to read like an open book. 

He had to constantly remind himself that she was not from his dark world.

“I’m not laughing at you at all Victor— far from it!” She exclaimed, as she hastily thought up something to tell the demon without ruining her surprise. Problem was, if she lied, he’d know. Then the clever girl had a thought: cover up the truth with a part of the truth.

 “The truth is…I’ve been gathering helpful information on how to patch up your horn.” 

That perked Victor’s interest, his brow softening with a slight raise of his brows as he listened intently—waiting for her to clarify as they stood under the snow covered trees that lined the path back up to Damion’s home.

“You see, the Sheppard I was speaking to earlier gave me advice and a recipe he uses whenever one of his goats have fractured their horn that needs to be cleaned then sealed.” She showed Victor one of the small glass jars in her basket that held a finely grounded powder that was one of the ingredients needed to complete the sealer for his horn. “I’ve been planning to tell you all of this when I had everything I needed. I didn’t mean to set you on edge.”

The clearing was silent and still as he digested all that she said. Her honesty and good-will stirred a strange warmth within his chest that left him struggling for the right words; so much so that he completely forgot about his other questions.

Then the seasoned demon finally spoke, “…You’re going to awfully great lengths to help me,” He gave a small bow of his head. “But I am grateful to you. Please forgive my brashness.”

She held his wrist in a comforting gesture as she looked at him with understanding. "Of course, I forgive you, Victor, we’re friends! I know this is all new to you and I don't expect you to suddenly adjust so quickly." 

Her eyes cast down to the snow covered ground, creating a shadow of gloom over her face as she released his wrist. “But I hope one day you can learn to fully trust me.” 

His hand seemed to have a mind of its own as he gently patted her golden silk head that was incredibly soft to the touch. He didn’t know what he was thinking, but it did succeed in lifting her spirits; so he supposed it was the right move.

“I will try and keep that in mind.” This time when she smiled at him he managed a slightly larger smile for her.  

*~*~*~

(Extra scene of Damion and Sophie will be in the book only. Sorry!)

*~*~*~* Next day

Sophie read off her list again as Damion carefully stocked the fire in the iron stove to the proper temperature. “And pour the mixture into the saucepan with the solid curds. Make sure the stove is on medium heat when heating the mixture while stirring continuously until it starts to bubble.”

Damion dusted off his hands of the clinging bits of bark as he leaned over Sophie to see her notes. “And this will make the glue?”

“That’s what the Sheppard told me.” She mused as she began to stir the pan with a wooden spoon.

They were reaching the final steps in producing the paste the village goat farmer shared with her, yesterday. He claimed that his exceptional paste was far stronger and more efficient than any beeswax or tree sap could produce and that it was the only glue he trusted to hold up if one of his treasured goats had a fractured horn. 

Sophie took a glance back at Victor as he sat at the kitchen table and out of their way, while Rook and the other collectors were keeping to themselves somewhere else. Victor’s horn was fully healed and ready to be coated in the glue as soon as it was ready. To anyone else, he looked bored and cold, but Sophie knew better when she caught the slight tremor in his joined hands, the flick of his eyes every time he tried to see over at the stove. 

He was hopeful…and anxious. 

‘Just wait ‘til you see the real surprise!’ She tried to suppress her excited squeal as she glanced out the window again. Angus was just in eyesight as he passed the gates, he would be at the door any minute with her package!

She hastily moved the pan off the stove before it boiled over, letting it cool down before they could begin applying it.  

Taking her pink apron off in haste, she swiftly left the kitchen with a, “Be right back!” 

She didn’t even give the young blacksmith a chance to knock on the door as she opened it with such zest. “Good evening Angus,” she said with bated breath as she stood in the doorway; not noticing the dark figure slowing emerging from behind. 

Before the young lad could greet Sophie in return the color left his face the moment his eyes gazed up at Damion. Any person in their right mind would have fled from such an intimidating sight, yet as his childhood friend glanced behind her shoulder she merely smiled up at the mountain of a man that filled the doorway. There was just something about this guy that didn’t sit well with him. 

‘Can’t she feel how dangerous he is?’ The very sight of him left the young blacksmith feeling suffocated from unexplainable fear, yet Sophie entwined her petite hand in his rough one that was riddled with scars as if she were petting a gentle lamb.

“Angus, this is Damion my—”

“—suitor,” the demon hastily injected, glaring gold daggers down this boy who reeked of desire for his Sophie. He could practically feel her whole body stiffen from his boldness, her face completely flushed as she baffly looks up at him. He further marks his territory by possessively moving his arm around her shoulders.

“Suitor?” Angus tried to keep the jealousy out of his voice as he swallowed the hard truth. 

She could practically feel her heart skyrocket to her ears. “Eh..—Y-yes, my suitor,” she confirmed further rubbing salt in the wound as she leaned further against Damion.

He didn’t want to believe the rumors that spread around town, but there was no denying it now as he saw how close they were, how openly intimate Sophie was being with him, and how Damion’s eyes only softened upon looking at her. He could recall all the times he managed a smile from her when they were children, but he’s never seen such a dazzling smile upon her face like this one, and he knew then from such an adoring look that she really loves this man by her side.

It was a bittersweet feeling he internally endures as he accepts he has lost his chance of finding happiness with her. ‘Da was right, I really am a doaty.’

“Congratulations,” he managed to say sincerely as he presented Sophie her commission. He pulled back the wooden lid to reveal one of his finest pieces. It did lighten his heart when her face light up when she noticed his extra gift.  

Sophie carefully pulls out the beautiful carving of a raven as it perfectly held the metal horn in place as its stand. “Oh Angus, this is magnificent you didn’t have to do this.” She knew Angus had many talents but never knew of his wood carving gifts. She couldn’t imagine how long it took him to make such an intricate piece. 

“Don’t worry about extra payment, think of it as a gift for being Da and me’s favorite customer.”

Damion casually took the horn from its stand as he examined it with his sharp eyes as he finally pieced together Sophie’s whole plan. He had to admit, it was a brilliant plan as he weighed the horn in his hands. How she managed to commission something so accurate to weight and shape of an actual soul collector’s horn astonished him as he admired the craftsmanship. 

“Not bad, boy.” He felt a sharp slap to his stomach.

“It’s Angus, don’t be rude!” Her cheeks her practically puffing at his rude behavior before she smiled kindly to Angus. “You’ll have to forgive him; he’s not the friendliest when it comes to meeting new people.”

He managed a small laugh for her. “It’s quite alright Miss. Sophie, I can honestly see where he’s coming from.”

That took her off guard when she caught the sorrowfulness in his tone. “What do you mean?

He gave a quick nod of his head to dismiss her concern. “Nothing. Take care now.”

All she could do was wave back to him when the blacksmith left their home as he made his way down the snowy hill before she closed the door. A soft sigh escaped her pink lips before she looked at Damion, the blush still bold on her cheeks.

“Do you even know what suitors mean?”

He almost snorted at the question. “Of course I know. We are obviously beyond friendship and I have far more respect to see you as my equal, not just a lover.” With arms crossed he leaned fully against the door, eyes fixed on her. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

She crossed her own arms as they squared off, not giving in to his sweet words. “Really? Because I thought it was because you were jealous of Angus.”

His very name coming from her lips stirred an obnoxious feeling in his gut, his chest puffing in irritation. “I don’t get jealous…” He leaned in further, eyeing her like a dragon to its treasure. “I’m territorial. That boy—“

She stopped him right there, “—Angus, and he’s not a boy! He’s almost 30.”

He sneered at the thought, “Boy. Man. They’re all the same and he lusts for you.”

She quirked a gold eyebrow, not liking his tone, “And what of the women who flaunt at the sight of you in town?”

That certainly opened his eyes a little as he was taken back. He usually liked their little banters, always had humor and teasing involved, but this one was beginning to get too serious for his liking. “They obviously mean nothing to me.”

“And Angus means nothing to me—not in that way. He was one of my childhood friends, that’s all.” She kept out the part where she had a crush on him when they were growing up, it would have only upset Damion who was clearly feeling insecure. “If you respect me, then you should also trust my loyalty to you as you are to me.”

The demon’s shoulders deflated as he took in her words. ‘When she puts it like that, I do sound like an insensitive prick.’

“I suppose you have a point.”

“Suppose?” She teased when she saw his mood lighten.

He rolled his eyes at her sass but was relieved they were on better terms now. “Alright~ you do have a point. I regret my behavior towards your friend; I will try to be better next time.”

She reached out to gently lay her hand against his scarred cheek, giving him a sincere smile for listening to her and working it out. “Apology accepted, though it wasn’t all bad. Like I’ve said, you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He could feel his ears burning from mortification. “I don’t get jealous!”

She gave him a knowing look, clearly not buying it. “Sure.”

“Oh my God, would you two quit it already? You’re making me nauseous,” Rook bellowed from the kitchen, clearly having heard everything.

Sophie couldn’t help herself when she giggled. “Come here,” she said as she pulled Damion down by the front of his shirt to land a quick kiss on his lips, showing him that they were okay.

There was relief in Damion’s smile as he handed back the iron horn before they returned to the kitchen. “After you."

~~~

“I see you decided to join us,” Sophie commented, noticing Rook making himself comfortable at the kitchen table across from Victor whose face revealed how he was attempting to tolerate Rook’s presence, all while Damion remained silent as he took a seat next to Rook.

The demon casually put his hands behind his head as he rested against the chairs back. “It was you guys or those killer joys the old goat brought along. Honestly, that Mohawk guy must be part cactus, cause he’s really mastered the art of being a prick—”

Sophie quickly released an, “Ahem!”—Clearly not wanting to go down this road of Rook stirring up shit. The warning was enough as her brother backed off with that cheeky smile on his face, but at least his mouth was shut. Though she suspected Rook was also curious to see what she had been up to.

“Victor, this is for you.” She placed the wooden box on the table in front of him, before removing just the iron horn. She could see the surprise spark in his eyes as the metallic material catched the sun’s light.

He was so cautious with his claws as she placed her gift in his palms. The senior had still not spoken as he turned the horn in his hands, almost entranced by its intricate details. If not for the metal coloring, he’d almost mistaken it as the missing piece of his horn. The twisted design and weight were incredibly accurate. Like Rook and Damion, the pieces became clear to him as they came together to finally reveal what she had been up to.

His voice sounded so small as he finally spoke, “How?”

“I guess you could say I’m good at paying attention to detail. I just jotted down the measurements, drew a sketch and let the blacksmiths handle the rest.” Sophie could tell this had meant a lot to him as his fingers wrapped carefully around the horn. “We just have to reinforce the cracks in your horn, and then you can try it on.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“ Uh, you could not be rude and say thank you for starters.” That snarky comment earned Rook a smack to his ribs from Damion who wore a cheeky smirk.

“Rook!” Sophie warned as she gave him a sideways glance.

“No, he’s right,” Victor spoke, his eyes still caressing the crescent-shaped metal in his hands before he rose from his seat to stand before her. “Thank you… This is the second gift you have given me and yet I’ve failed to present something to you for all of your generosity.”

She was overcome with joy, relieved that her gift was the right choice. "You’re welcome Victor, but I didn’t do it expecting anything in return. But I do extend my hand to you in hopes you take it and accept my friendship.”

‘Friendship…another human quality she mentioned when I was seeking enlightenment.’

Even now she looks to him in hopes that he will take her hand and call her friend.

Without a second thought he took her hand in his, and with it, a real gentle smile appeared. There was no force behind this one as it came naturally this time along with a pleasant warmth that filled his cheeks.

 “Please, let us begin.” He said in earnest, handing her back the horn.

~*~*~*

Victor could feel the glue cooling as Sophie applied it with a paintbrush, carefully coating both horns to seal up all the cracks that ran along the spiraled bone. The glue gave the demon’s horns an almost polished look as it began to set and dry. Sophie carefully avoided his hair at the base as she worked along a particularly large crack that was very jagged, and again the same questions bubbled in her throat.

She asked cautiously, “What’s it like to lose a horn?”

He didn’t look offended, rather caught off guard as he thought how to put his disability into words. “I’d imagine it’s like losing an arm. I can recall a soul collector that survived losing his arm in the underworld and like me; his balance was severely thrown off. We both had to adjust and relearn everything to survive.” His hooded eyes shadowed at the memory, and she wondered if perhaps Victor sympathized with the demon.

She moved to the last crack along his horn. “How awful. Is he still around?”

Victor’s eyes turned bitter at the memory. “No. He couldn’t adapt fast enough to survive, I did. That’s just the way it is.”

Sophie lightly bit her lip, she knew he didn’t want pity from her and decided to ask her other question. “Can I ask you how you lost your horn?” She didn’t notice the shadow that formed across Damion’s face as if he were reliving an unwanted memory, while Rook leaned further against the table, secretly wanting to hear the whole story too.

Victor slightly tilted his head back to look her in the eye. “Why do you want to know?”

“It’s just that I hardly know anything about you. I guess I wanted to know the story behind your battle scar.”

“I suppose it’s something friends share with each other?”

“Only if they want to,” she corrected, standing beside him as she let the glue have time to dry.

“Very well.” He leaned more comfortably against his chair. “I wouldn’t mind sharing this particular story…” He gave Damion a hard stare across the table. “The day I lost my horn was the day my greatest student achieved the impossible.”

~*~*~

(This scene of Victor and Damion flashback will be in published book 2 only!)

*~*~* After Sophie’s listened to Victor’s story.

“Damion!” She scolded from across the table. “You broke off your own teacher’s horn?!”

“And stabbed him with it,” added Rook, who was clearly enjoying throwing Damion under the wagon.

Damion seethed through his teeth, “Shut it!”

‘Damn it, since when am I the bad guy?’ He brooded as he kept his silence, knowing better than to talk about it with her now with these pain’s-in-his-ass larking about.

Victor noted that Sophie’s grip tightened on the horn in her hands, her face becoming clouded with what he assumed was sadness for his sakes, reminding him of how easily emotional she could be. Though he held a grudge at Damion for bruising his pride, he didn’t like to see this depressing look on her face.

His gold eyes then swayed to Damion, his face had shifted to annoyance but his gaze conveyed worry. Clearly, his student cares rather deeply on Sophie’s thought and approvals of him, and when he thought about it, the same could be said about her. He wondered if all couples behave this way.

 “There’s no point in getting upset over it now. I lost, he was the better fighter,” Victor spoke, reassuring her that he had ‘some-what’ put it behind him. His words seemed to lighten her spirit as she managed a small smile for him, which invoked another tug to his chest.

 He cleared his throat as he tilted his head to the side for her to inspect his horns, finding the glue was completely dry and began to fit his new horn on. It slid into place perfectly with a strip of cloth on the inside to give it a more snug hold. Once completely secured, Victor could already feel the difference.

The familiar weight instantly straightens his posture and spine from his slightly slouched form. He was able to hold his head up straight without struggling to keep balance. His mind shut down as he stood, feeling completely surreal to the sensation that filled his being, as if a part of him, he didn’t know was missing, has returned. *(more details that will truly give this moment justice will be in book 2)

“Victor… how is it?” Sophie asked when she noticed he seemed to go into mild shock.

Before he could find the right words to tell her just how miraculous she was for doing all of this for him, a knock alerted them that someone was at the door, before they welcomed themselves in.

Mild panic flicked across Sophie’s face as she realized it was Rosie coming to visit; as her mother’s sweet voice made herself know as she entered the living room. She had completely forgotten that today was one of their evening brunches together. Already Victor’s face had shifted to suspicion and was on the defense as his stare narrowed towards the doorway.

She only had a moment to whisper, “Please trust me.” She turned towards the doorway, warmly greeting her mother.

“Mama! You’re here.” She gave Rosie a peck on the cheek before she dared to glance behind her. Damion and Rook had remained seated, but their spines were taught as they watched for Victor’s reaction, ready to act if they needed to. None of them knew how Victor would react now that he knew not one but TWO humans were familiar with their kind. Sophie’s heart was practically in her throat as she stared at Victor. His face was completely unreadable as he continued to stare at them, or more particularly at Rosie. She couldn’t tell if he was furious or calm, but it frightened her as she feared for her mother.

Rosie noticed Sophie’s cheeks take on a white sheen. “Darling, you’re looking so pale. Are you alright?”

 “Yes, I’m fine mama.” She replied a little too quickly.

Rosie only then noticed that there was someone completely new in their group.

~*~*~*~

He didn’t know what to expect to enter that doorway whether it be enemy or friend, but when Sophie practically begged for his composure and trust, he did so. He did not anticipate a middle-aged human woman to enter. His mind was running a hundred miles a minute.

 ‘What the hell is going on?’

All he could do was stare at this new human. Noticing her long hazelnut, wavy hair that had grey and white streaks in it, a lot like his peppered hair. Her arms, neck, and face were specked in freckles that reminded him of the eggs he saw at one of his visit in the market with Sophie. She had a similar healthy body shape as Sophie aside from being half-a-head taller than her. And when he finally looked at her face he never knew a human's eyes could be so blue.

He felt a humming in his ears and that damn familiar warmth in his chest again, only it had spread up to his throat now. Victor only managed to break from his trance that she put him under when he heard a sweet, charming voice greet him.

“Oh, Hello.”

End of chapter

OMG I FINALLY finished this damn chapter! I don’t know why I struggled with this one chapter for so long to where it needed to be broken into TWO freaking chapters. My guess is I’m not use to writing/describing Victor yet since he’s new and a freaking pain to figure out sometimes lol Note: A LOT of details were not included in this chapter to make it all fit on DA, plus it’s a great reason to get the 2nd book when it gets published and there will be new details to read about! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! PLEASE don’t forget to comment so I know what you guys are feeling/ thinking :3

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magicanimal13's avatar
They've met. I love the thought of Rosie and Victor together. There my second favorite couple to Sophie and Damon.