Serphia dropped down from the silk, bouncing lightly as she bent her knees before she sprang back up as if she had done that landing a thousand times before. She flipped her short hair out of her face as she unsheathed her dagger. She raised a hand to the tree and Arloke crawled down, latching himself to her back like a snuggly backpack. It was at that moment that Serphia realized she had left her pack in the barn just before they had left. The wizard’s attempts to sway her choice on the battle caused her to forget the most essential thing she had at that present time. She peered back at the barn with a frown. It was lost now. They couldn’t go back at that point. With a huff of annoyance, she followed him into the wheat. 

She could hear the crunch of wheat stalks as a few of the raiders stormed into the crop to find them. She crouched, her dagger at the ready in case they came into contact with people before they were anticipating it. She listened to him intently as he whispered to her, her eyes flashing to the moving wheat ahead before she followed him further into the field. Somehow managing to avoid the raiders as they stalked through the wheat, eventually growing frustrated and using their swords as sickles and cutting down the crop in a futile attempt to find them. 

She slipped silently out of the hiding and moved against the wall of the building, her eyes taking in the scenery with practiced skill. She marked any places where enemies could come from and any place she may use as an escape to get away. As the devil flew past, snarling and mumbling to itself, they took the chance to go. As they crashed through the door, Arloke took aim at the flying creature before releasing a thick line of silk that broke off just as they barreled into the home. The silk flew in the air before wrapping around the devil’s wings, knocking it out of the air with a cry of shock and confusion. Serphia peered back at the spider with a scolding sneer on her face but they were already hidden away and the devil’s back was to them so there was, likely, no way he could have known it was them or where they had gone. 

Serphia slowly crossed the hallway, one foot over the other as silently as she could move. She was crouched against the wall and when she approached the hallway threshold, she lowered to examine the corpse that lay just within the other room. She grabbed it, pulling it further into the hallway as she got to work on searching it for anything useful. She patted its pockets, checked its belt and boots for any kind of weapons, and checked along his hands for any kind of rings that might speak of enchantments. He had nothing. Not even a pendant around the neck. She shoved him out of the way as she slid up to the threshold once more. She listened a moment before taking a peek inside. Her head was only sticking into the room for a moment but she registered the scene with quick efficiency. She turned to Malcador, holding up two fingers in one hand and one finger in the other. She was sure to keep the hand with the one finger lower than the others, showing that the screaming woman was not able to put up any kind of resistance. 


Without saying a word, she lowered Arloke to the ground and flipped her dagger in her hands. She pointed to Mal then to the floor before raising a hand in a symbol to stay. She gave a low whistle and Arloke made his way along Mal’s leg then settled on his back just like he always had done with Serphia. She locked her indigo eyes on him for a second, two seconds, a third before she took a breath and slid into the room. 

She moved quickly. Slinking into the room she saw one man kneeling on the bed holding the woman down and the other standing over her while ripping her clothes open. The woman’s voice screamed out as she thrashed, trying to kick the men off her. Serphia didn’t hesitate. She stepped up to the man at the end of the bed and, with one hand on the grip and the other pressed firmly onto the back for extra strength, she slid the dagger into the back of the man’s throat. She could feel the dagger sliding between vertebrae of his spinal cord and she gave it a quick twist. The man fell down dead in an instant. She moved quickly now, drawing the sword of the man who was now kneeling on the bed in baffled confusion. Serphia slid onto the body of the first man, straddling him while leaving her dagger in his neck. She sliced across the other man’s throat with his own blade. He gurgled, his hands releasing the woman and shooting to his neck as he tried to staunch the bleeding. She sent a kick to his chest and watched as he collapsed off the bed, thrashing on the ground as he suffocated on his own blood. 

Serphia peered down at the woman now pinned to the bed by the dead raider and Serphia’s weight. Her purple eyes locked on the woman’s panicked face. She pulled her dagger from the man’s neck and reversed it in her grip. She lowered the blade to the woman’s throat, ready to end her life as well but she hesitated. Her jaw clenched tightly for a moment before she ripped the blade away from the woman. She sheathed the dagger at her waist and grabbed the guards’ swords before she stepped off the dead corpse. She kicked him off the woman who stood up quickly. Their eyes locked for a moment before the woman turned and ran out of the room. Serphia stood there a time, questioning if she made the right move in letting the woman go. She was getting soft. She was spending too much time with humans. They were rubbing off on her. 

She finally turned from the bloody scene, stepping into the hall with two swords now in her hands. “Here,” she called out as she went to hand Mal a weapon. However, before she could hand the sword off to him, the wall directly to her right broke open. A devil came crashing through, the same woman from early screaming in frantic panic as she tried to rip the creature off her. The devil released a low cackle as it violently ripped the woman’s head to the side, almost twisting it completely around. Her corpse dropped to the ground and it turned its eyes on Mal and Serphia. It dove towards Mal at first, bloody claws glistening as it went for his face. Serphia grabbed a hold of its wing and heaved. The creature was larger than her in body mass and in height. It took a lot of her strength to keep it from getting a hold of Malcador. 

The devil whirled around, turning its attention on her as she ducked under its claws. Ripping the dagger out of its sheath and using one of the two swords she had gotten, she danced around the creature’s claws as it lashed at her. Its tail can flashing at her head. She flung herself back, raising the sword to catch the knock the tail out of the way. It was far thicker and beefier than she had expected and the blade went clattering out of her hands. She sneered at the creature as she looked for an escape. He was between her and the entrance to the home they had taken. She could dive through the hole he made into the street outside but she was sure that more danger awaited her there. Her only option was the back room she had just left. She dove into the room, rolling once before she sprang back to her feet. Dagger up in a reverse grip, she eyed the creature while it followed her in the room. She rolled her shoulders and brought the dagger up in a guard before signalling for the devil to come at her.