Watching Toria try to find a

  way to sit comfortably on a demon horse amused me more than it

  probably should have. I kept having to cover my mouth and faking a

  yawn to disguise the fact that I was cracking a smile every time she

  nearly fell off or muttered about how impractical they were. To his

  credit, Feros had tried to find the smallest mare available, but even

  so they were still hilariously over sized for her and my young

  stallion was not much better. I had a good six inches on Toria in the

  height department, but I still was no where close to being as tall

  and bulky as a true demon so I looked ridiculous on the back of my

  stallion as well. The difference was I had been forced to learn how

  to perch on the back of the massive beasts.

  As a child I had commonly rode

  between my mother's family land and my father's castle, a trip that

  required a few day's travel on horseback, both human and demon sized.

  There was definitely a strong learning curve between figuring out how

  to ride each of them and the techniques that worked for human horses

  did not always translate over to the demon variety and vice versa.

  Human horses could be a bit flighty and nervous unless trained very

  well, sometimes acting much like prey animals, but they responded

  well to firm expressions of dominance to reassure them that you were

  in control. Approaching a demon horse in the same manner risked you

  getting tossed off and stomped on. They are proud, confident animals

  with a mean streak a mile wide. Perhaps a trained human warhorse

  might be an adequate comparison if you scaled up the biggest warhorse

  by at least double its size. Demon horses were not creatures to be

  trifled with and without extensive training were wild, deadly

  creatures who'd rather trample you than entertain tolerating your

  existence, especially the males of the species.

  "I haven't rode since I

  was a child," Toria said with a miffed tone to her voice, "this

  is much harder than I remember. My grandmother did not like the idea

  of traveling too far from the castle, always said it was must safer

  to stick close by, but I wish I would have at least kept up in

  practice. This seems so much harder than it has to be."

  I glanced to Feros with an

  amused glint in my eye, he returned the glance with a wide smile. He

  also looked ridiculous on his mare, though it appeared that if at

  some point he had managed to scale up his body size just enough to

  make his legs wrap more comfortably around his horse. It was just

  enough to still be subtle and for some reason I found it

  disconcerting.

  Glamours were as common as

  wearing traditional clothing in the demon world, you could never be

  sure you had ever actually seen what someone truly looked like unless

  you were very close to them, but what I was sensing from him was not

  a simple glamour. Whatever magic he had used to adjust his size was

  something darker, more chaotic than I was comfortable with being

  around, it was the same feeling I sensed whenever he very freshly had

  switched out shells. I had never been exactly clear on just what

  exactly Feros was and had not been curious enough yet to try to

  coerce an honest answer from him. Doing so would likely be an

  exercise in deftly dodging his deflections and doggedly staying on

  topic until you won his game of attrition. He was not someone who

  easily gave up any information about himself, he guarded every bit

  like letting it out would start the path to his undoing. I supposed

  that for all I knew that would be true, perhaps whatever or whoever

  he truly was was something so disagreeable or horrific that most

  people who knew about it would instantly reject him or pursue his

  destruction. There were very few creatures I could bring to mind

  where I could see that being true and all of them were generally much

  more terrible and horrific than even Feros managed to be on his worst

  days, so I was at a loss for what exactly he was. There were many

  realms though, more than I could ever possibly hope to learn about in

  a single lifetime, it was likely I only knew about a skimming of the

  surface of the possibilities.

  "They are stubborn

  creatures, it is not a reflection of your rusty riding skills most

  likely," Feros explained. "Even many a demons have trouble

  with their horses, the beasts can sense if someone is not worthy to

  be riding on them. The fact that she is tolerating you at all despite

  having never interacted with you before today is definitely a tribute

  to the regal air you exude, she knows you are someone of high

  standing and she is behaving in recognition of your importance."

  He was truly full of hot air,

  that was the kind of line you might feed a child to make them feel

  special. The horse was simply better trained than the others, by the

  looks of it the mare was a bit older than our stallions, probably was

  just old enough to have settled down and already ridden out her wild,

  youthful years. Generally demonic horses were not considered truly

  trained until they had passed their fifth decade, then they had

  another fifty years of good work in them before they would be retired

  out and either kept as breeding stock or ended up on a feast table. I

  had been very, very careful to steer Toria away from ever questioning

  the kind of meat she was eating at the dinner table at the Castle

  Drak. Humans have a strange, sentimental connection to their horses

  that demons definitely do not. To demons, horses are just food

  sources that happen to be more useful as a pack animal for a time.

  "I do not think it is the

  mare's attitude or demeanor that is the problem," Toria huffed,

  having to struggle to right herself on the comically over sized

  saddle again. "This is more a beast than it is a horse, I do not

  think even the largest horse I have ever seen would come even close

  to this colossus. There is absolutely no way for me to sit

  comfortably, no matter how I situate myself. Are you sure this is the

  smallest horse they had?"

  "Very sure," Feros

  giggled with amusement, "I checked the whole stock and the only

  animals smaller were foals and trust me, you did not want to try to

  handle one with more energy and youth behind it, nor the mother who

  would come rampaging after you for daring to touch her baby. You have

  to keep in mind that the creatures who naturally live in this realm

  are much bigger and stockier than humans, so their work animals are

  going to be sized to reflect that. Your mare would be considered too

  small and elderly for most demon men, she's probably reserved for

  children mostly."

  Toria flashed an angry glare

  towards Feros before letting out a yelp and struggling to hold onto

  her perch from her mare making a sudden movement to the left to avoid

  a large stone in the path we were taking. I was not familiar with the

  path Feros had set us upon, though I was generally familiar with the

  area we were traveling through.

  Castle Drak, unlike the Castle

  Yser, was set in the middle of a lush farming area with gently

  rolling hills breaking up otherwise flat and fertile land. It was an

  ideal area for food production which was part of the political might

  of the kingdom. Without food coming from my family's lands

  neighboring kingdoms would be hard pressed to adequately feed their

  general populace and certainly their royal feasts would have to be

  much less grand. So far we had ridden on a small, foot worn path

  between several bigger fields growing crops that I judged to be most

  like potatoes in the human world. They were starchy tubers that

  required cooking to make soft and edible, though they usually grew

  with a thick, leathery skin that was generally dark purple in color.

  Skin removed and cooked, however, the two were nearly

  indistinguishable and like the human variety, were a large part of

  the staple diet for many of the poorer demons. Along with cereal

  grains, they were by far the most common vegetable to be seen grown

  outside of the royal fields.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  "Have you ever wondered

  about what makes food different between the different realms?"

  Feros asked.

  I did not know if he had some

  sort of ability to spy on my thoughts or if he was merely following

  my gaze out into the field and extrapolating, but I sincerely hoped

  for the later. Deep down I suspected the more uncomfortable theory

  was closer to the truth. Far too many times Feros had opened his

  mouth around me to voice exactly what I was thinking or something so

  closely related and out of context from the previous conversation to

  make it unbelievable that he could just have coincidentally come up

  with it himself.

  When I had first started

  living full time in the demon realm and met the trainer when I was a

  young teen, I had voiced my concerns to my father and they had been

  waved away, told that such abilities would have gotten him singled

  out and beheaded long ago, but the explanation had never sufficed.

  Seeing my father and Feros interact over time, I was certain he was

  more careful to not voice my father's thoughts back to him, and cut

  down on doing it so obviously within earshot.

  "Yes I have and I think

  you know that," I said accusingly.

  "Why of course, you're a

  bright girl, you obviously would think about such things." The

  goofy grin never left his face as he gazed out over the field we were

  passing. "A lot of the foods, especially vegetables grown as

  basic crops in each realm tend to mirror each other very closely,

  most of them even taste very much the same and are prepared in

  similar ways. I once had a mentor who was very interested in the

  topic, he would realm walk very commonly and specifically to go find

  out about their general food culture. He would trade work, sometimes

  magical, but often times even physical labor for a meal with

  commoners, nobility, and even royalty of the realms to taste as much

  of what they had to offer as possible."

  "I did not know you were

  trained by a culinary enthusiast," I commented, "you do not

  seem to care much for food yourself."

  "Eating is a waste of

  time for someone like me," he said casually, like that statement

  did not just pose more questions than it answered. "I think it

  was much the same for my mentor as well, but we all have our hobbies,

  his just tended to be culinary in nature. Much of his adventures were

  completed in his early life, by the time I was under his wing his

  traveling days were behind him, but he loved to regal me with all

  sorts of information about the wide variety of food that existed and

  his theories as to why between our lectures and training."

  "So tell me then, why are

  these tubers here almost exactly like potatoes in the human realm?"

  I queried. "I have always thought it to be a strange

  coincidence."

  "On the contrary, it is

  very logical why they would be similar," he corrected. "Humans

  and demons are not actually that different if you want to get down to

  considering basic biology. Sure lots of ambient magic has greatly

  shaped how demons have developed, but they still have a base need to

  eat and their bodies are built in a similar way to humans, both need

  starch, fat, and protein to grow and fill out. It makes perfect sense

  that demons and humans would want to work to cultivate an easy to

  grow, dense, starchy vegetables to fill out their stomachs easily.

  Before there were kingdoms and massive farms like this one, people

  would need something like a potato to grow and ensure their food

  needs would be met. Pair that with the fact that you can chuck these

  vegetables into a dark hole and forget about them for a few months

  and come back to them still edible makes them a nearly perfect food.

  Once they had something like a potato, it was simple enough to go out

  and hunt down an animal for the fat and protein requirement, rounding

  out pretty much everything someone needs to survive. See? Logical

  reasons why these things would develop similarly, yet independently."

  "I did not realize you

  were a scholar on the subject, you still hold surprising mysteries

  even after I have known you for so long."

  "Oh my dear Mistra,"

  he chuckled, "you are still so young to think that you have

  known me for overly long. A few years or more is not a long time to

  me, centuries may be closer, but I am afraid that there are very few

  that I would put into the category of being an old friend. I see time

  differently from you, my ideas of young and old are relative. I have

  seen and experienced things from a time period you might not even be

  able to comprehend."

  The hairs on the back of my

  neck stood on end and a chill ran down my spine. For the first time

  since knowing Feros I felt like I had been given some honest

  information about his background, which either meant he was beginning

  to trust me, which I found doubtful, or my desire to figure out what

  exactly he was aligned with some part of his bigger plan. I

  definitely did not like feeling like I was a part in any plan of his,

  his plans were designed to be all about the payoff for him and

  neglecting the collateral damage done to everyone else involved.

  "You sound like every

  older person I have ever known," Toria said. "They always

  talk about how younger people can never possibility understand what

  they have seen and done like their lives and that things done decades

  prior were something so spectacularly different that a younger mind

  could not wrap itself around the concept. Getting older seems to

  instill a staggering amount of arrogance for many people."

  "My queen, you are human

  and therefore some of the weakest and most fragile creatures in the

  realms, it always amuses me when humans talk amongst themselves about

  their lineage and brag about the accomplishments their great, great

  relatives only a century or two prior. Many creatures outside of your

  realm do not even leave infancy in the time it takes for a human to

  be born, grow up, and expire from old age. Humans do not live long

  enough to even begin to approach anything like true glory. Their

  lives are but a sputtering flame barely holding on while they burn

  just bright enough to feel accomplished, yet expire too soon to be

  mature enough to know that they know absolutely nothing. Even the

  oldest of human sages and wisest of wise men are laughable children

  anywhere outside of your realm. It is hard to match the knowledge and

  experience of others who have lived hundreds, maybe thousands of

  years or more to your seventy or eighty on average. It is not the

  fault of humans, it is merely part of your plight to grow quickly and

  expire even quicker. Either the old gods did not like humans enough

  to give them enough time to reach true clarity or an early human

  angered one enough to get them cursed forever more. Yet, I agree with

  you on one point, humans are typically by far the more arrogant of

  the lot."

  In the bright moonlight I

  could see Toria's brow furrow into a look of contemplation, sometimes

  I forgot that her worldview was so much smaller than mine. Had she

  not been born a Yser she would have likely lived her entire life

  without even an inkling that something beyond her own realm of

  existence existed. The entirety of what was possible was so much more

  vast than what she could yet perceive and I longed for the day when

  she finally had a breakthrough and her ambitions led her to something

  greater than a relatively small plot of land in a backwoods realm

  with little special about it. I often felt that while Toria was born

  human, that her mind and spirit had been destined for something much

  greater.