I wait for the daemons response. The thing seems to be getting more and more angry. The stone walls of the church start forming a layer of ice from the spreading chill. I keep staring at the daemon, watching its moves.


"You needn't know such nonsense." It says angrily.


I wonder why it has not tried to attack me yet. Is it a permission for the residence that important for this daemon? I think i remember reading about a daemon who only will harm you if you made a deal. What was its name? Damnit.


"Sure I do." I say. "What if i bring home wine and wanna share?" I try to be aggrevating, still i am nervous.


"Humans." It utters.


The rooms still getting colder as this daemon gets more irritated in my home. I smirk. What daemon doesn't like to take advantage of greed? I think this gives me an idea. What if i challenge him for a competition of a sort? Then we would be able to try to make this a gamble not a deal. Or does the daemon consider a gamble having to be a deal primarily?


Daemons are sticky so its hard to deal with them when they are civil, compared to others. This daemon wants to make a deal. Then it dawns on me.


"You only want a holy place to reside, correct?" I ask.


"Yes, that is the point of me relinquishing my information." He says.


"I can give you an eternal home where youll be welcoming more of your kind." I smile. "Do we have a deal?" I ask.


He extends his rotten hand again. "It's a deal."


"Then I need your name for the spell to send you there." I say.


"An exorcist who uses magic, how quaint." He says.


"Your name or there is no deal and you will fall victim to my blade." I say.


"You wouldn't know how to use that sharpened silver toothpick." It laughs. "I am a master of forms, you can't just kill me." He continues in his arrogance.


"You sure about that?" I smile.


I know taunting a daemon would normally be dangerous, but my mothers blade has seen battle with daemons. It is something I am confident in. I now know more about this sword than my mother did. It explains why sixteen instead of only fourteen like my mother though made sense. She didnt think about each leading person to those seven princes and princesses.


"Indeed." He laughs.


I lunge the blade into his gut and he groans. He falls to his knees as shadows flow into the blade. He forgets his place is underneath God.

"By the name of the father of all, the creator our God." I begin.


My mind takes me to another time. I don't recognize the voice that is in line with my own as i recite this. I can feel the warmth of hope spread up my arm from the blade.


"By the word, that he gave us and by the blessings he bestows." I say.


The vision I have shows a deep crooked and tall being. I can also underneath see the daemon i have the blade in. I can feel a fire within my body that is warm but spreads back to the blade.


"I contain this daemon within the holy blade of the ghost speakers." I finish the reciting of the note my mother had left me in her diary.


The secondary scene fades as I hear the daemon groan. He grabs onto the blade and tries to pull it from their wound. I scoff as I feel the light from the blade moving into his wound. Shadows cast from his body and straight into the blade until his body entirely vanishes. The ice on the walls of my chapel begin to melt.


"I didn't want to have to do that in my own home." I say to the blade.


'Well done' I hear enter my thoughts.


That voice is unfamiliar to me. A female who I had not met before. Nor had I heard. I ignore the voice for now, as I don't feel like another fight in my home. The first daemon I had to trap in this sacred piece. My mother noted once; this blade was the first to be of its kind for the ghost speakers.


I turn to the doors and continue my way out of the chapel. the streets outside are fairly quiet. no horses nor sounds of travel. I open my front door and enter the streets. Not one person in sight. I sheathe my blade and pull my robes to hide it's hilt. I need not be mixed with the sorts of an assassin. I need no attention from the guardsmen of the people anyway. However this doesn't even begin to express my concern this town lay so still in the midst of day. Many brown and white homes of stone and wood.


I journey my way towards the town square. Most people will be spreading rumors this time of day. It may be a way to get a little information on the local templars. I do not want to fight or harm them, I simply need things from their collections, which I would not be granted access. It's even likely the result would be my own execution. If i retaliate, it would be the same result.


I walk the cobble roads and can't help but admire the sky. We are in a lightly fogged area, thankfully. Many mystical beings enjoy the fogs. Many also enjoy the night. However, I want to travel safely and make my plans ahead of time. Shadows are usual for the daemons to come through.

As I approach the fresh items stalls, I turn to the tavern and inn. The local bard would be the one with all the interesting tales. I am sure he would be willing to tell me something. I hope it only would be something useful.


I enter the tavern, its dark oaken doors screech from the iron hinge. The stuff we have is simple. The inside furniture is mostly crafted from pine or oak. I can only smell ale and wood. A light smell of burning wood from the fireplace is in the air with the mix. I enjoy this kind of familiar area. Wolves heads are mounted upon the walls along with that of bears and deer. Books lay on a cupboard in the corner by a few isolated tables. I assume it would be for the people wishing to spend some down time when they spend a night. If only I could afford it.


My chapel, though I make it work, is no where near as warm and welcoming as this place. I walk to the bartender and I am hoping he doesn't me asking a few questions. I sigh as I look at him, he seems rather surprised to see me, as i havent walked in for a few months now.


"Is there anything for work?" I ask.


"Well, Brendan, I can't say there is much work. Though, I may have something interesting for you this time." He says.


"Well, let's hear it." I say.


"More like see it." He turns and crouches, opening a small safe.


"Oh?" I exasperate.


"I was given this a week ago, saying to give this to you." He says to me as he turns to face me.


"Give me what?" I ask.


He extends his hand and shows me a tied shut cloth. He didnt seem to even open it from his own curiosity. He smiles and drops it onto the counter before me.


"Go on. Open it." He says.


"Drake, I am not sure who sent it. do you know?" I ask.


"Nope." He replies.


I pull my sword and cut the twine, reseathing it immediately after. Drake, the bartender, seems to be shocked I handle a blade so precisely. I smirk as I pull the cloth from what reveals a dimly lit red stone. I examine the ruby, picking it up. The moment I do it feels as though the gem is pulling to my mother sword, the blade I inherited.


"What's with the glowing stone?" He asks, surprised as i examine the stone.


"I think this is a Princess stone, not sure which one." I say.


"A Princess stone?" Drake can't help it now, there is so much he doesn't know about my mothers sword.


I can only imagine he will have plenty of questions. I don't want to give everything away, but I wonder if he would know something. I have to figure this out quickly. The daylight will only last so long.


"My mothers blade fits sixteen stones. fourteen are prince or princess stones. The other two are King Stones." I say. "So, its just something for my mothers sword." I explain as I look to each side of the hilt as i draw my sword once more.


I examine it as I follow the ruby and it's seemingly magnetic attraction to its home slot. This must be a sign there are other ghost speakers after all. I let go and it flies into the fourth slot on the princesses side. I smile as a flash of red light swallows me.