And the longer a story goes on for, the more the new actors get to see before they go onstage.

Hundreds of years have gone on in this world, with the Demon Lord present. Every so often, a hero, retroactively titled a "Champion", may arrive at the Demon Lord's Castle and slay him. The Champion returns with a specific small medallion, merely a cheap amulet from ages past for identification, and is written into legend. For as long as the new Champion still lives, past evading the returning army, any threats of political assassination, and old age, the Demon Lord will not return. The world will replenish, the army can be whittled down through the years, and the citizens can rest easy.

But time marches on. The Champion passes on, the medallion returns, and hell returns to earth to begin the battle anew.

With thirty Champions leaving legends behind, another knight approaches this castle. And always, without fail, stories end.

"Certainly fits the criteria, though lacking in the 'moat of lava' part."

Cresting a small hill arrives our knight, though lacking in the typical shiny silver full-plate. A single long left gauntlet fits the bill, though the rest of her outfit is practical leathers (the demon lord having 'rent asunder his armor in a single swipe' makes heavy armor seem useless). A heavy backpack fits many varied tools useful against a multitude of legendary beasts (fighting living shadow with a sword? Bring the right weapon!), and having a belt with four different weapons (knightly longsword, dagger, hammer, axe) also helps.

Halta puts away her best weapon, her compiled journal of the legends of the old Champions, and walks to the side of the imposing gate. A small servant's entrance supposedly exists, and that is her chosen way in.

There is, in fact, a small service entrance in the wall of the castle, set opposite what appears to be a small bathroom for the troops.

It doesn't even seem to be locked.

Sigh. "I don't really have anything to say at this."

Longsword out, and she enters.

There doesn't seem to be anyone present on the other side of the door. Covering the ground are dark purple vines, and she can see the castle poking out above the opposite wall of the courtyard she finds herself in.

There are also a couple of hellhounds.

Halta shrugs. Switch weapons, dagger out. Musing to herself out loud, "The vines are interesting, though disturbing, I have to say." Her hand goes back into her pack, to some dried meat. "Without most of the stated hazards being real, it fits."

Step outside, throw the meat away, armoured arm in front to take bites, dagger for quick dispatch, stay mobile to avoid any fire-breathing, near the wall to avoid being swarmed...

..."Hello doggies, time for a walk?" Why not try, or at least be amusing. It's been a lonely walk over.

One barks. Quite aggressively.

The other paws at the ground. For a moment. Before it darts forwards.

She stays still. Swipe if it gets close, but there's no need to hastily engage it.

It gets close rather quickly, then lunges for her.

Sidestep and swipe its face, standard procedure.

It's actually pretty fast and manages to avoid most of the blow – or so it would seem, except for it having been flung back, landing in what seems to be a painful position, and then making a pitiful noise.

Its friend backs away from Halta slowly.

...

"Okay. An illusion or... Paper-thin hound?" Halta sheathes her knife, then walks over to her tossed-meat. "Or a form of trap." She picks it up, and tosses it to the dogs inside the room, away from her path further inward. "Or just strange."

The dogs make no move towards the meat. The uninjured one barks at her again, standing over the other protectively.

Halta shrugs. "Strange."

Now would be the time to walk around them, to get further inside, if there's a way.

There is a door across the courtyard area from where she entered.

Alternatively she can go through a door to her left or her right.

Close the door to the outside, head to the door straight ahead. Close next door behind herself, so the dogs can't follow that easily.

She finds herself in a very large open area. It also has the dark purple vines covering the ground, and it is large enough to surround the castle.

She would not have much in the way of environmental defence, if someone were to fire at her.

An ominous narration, but follows Halta's thoughts fairly well.

A moment to think passes, then with no better options Halta starts jogging across to the castle.

Nothing fires at her as she does so.

She meets face to face with a large wooden door.

Halta gets next to it, leans against the wall besides it, then pulls out her journal on legends and grumpily puts 'not relevant' next to a bunch of entries.

Then she knocks on the door, for politeness' sake. If there isn't a response, she goes in.

There is no response from behind the door. Fortunately it opens quite easily.

When she gets inside, she finds herself in an entrance hall. It is quite large and has a pretty (demonic) chandelier hanging above the center of the room.

At the opposite end there is an archway that leads into a hallway.

At least the entrance hall gets a 'likely accurate' mark before her journal goes away.

Though by now Halta is a tad too relaxed at nothing happening. She just walks straight on forwards instead of being slower and methodical, but is still observant.

The chandelier does not drop on her as she passes under it, fortunately.

The hallway presents her with choices of direction to go. Multiple times. It seems sort of like a labyrinth.

"Seems needlessly obtuse for a castle with no defenders."

Ball of string, let's go. Random hallway away.

There were plenty of defenders outside the castle! And terrorizing the local villages!

There are not however many defenders present within the castle.

– Except that one, a grey-skinned person about half the height of a regular human, running around the corner away from her.

Apparently.

Halta sighs. "Just point me in the correct direction, I fail to see a reason to follow you in here!"

They pause, most of the way around the corner, then lean back to look at her.

A hand is extended to point left at the junction, instead of right, as the imp was going.

"My thanks." She starts walking. "Best of luck with... Whatnot."

"Please don't tell my boss."

And then they're gone.

A yell down the hall after the being; "No reason to!"

Really, no reason to try to improve the competency of the Demon Lord's minions. No real time for it either. Leave the poor... Thing alone.

Walking she shall go, string still in hand, slightly cautious of the next stretch of hall but still heading down it.

The next stretch of hall becomes suddenly less dark and brimstone-y, quite suddenly.

The border between the two catches fire when she's about five meters from it.

The feelings of disappointment are unshakable. She would have had to trip at that specific moment to even have her hair on fire, let alone...

Halta steps back, to check her feet for a footplate or to see if it's distance based.

It's a footplate!

… It's also quite a poorly designed footplate. If she looks at it to see, she will find she can in fact step off it on the other side and stop it from triggering.

She steps off of it on the other side. If she was walking obliviously it would have turned off before she walked into the fire.

Walking it is. Overconfidence is bad. Keep focused...

The fire dies down reasonably slowly when she walks off it, and it's quite possible she would have been singed if she had just walked along obliviously – however, not much more than that.

A bit further along and she can see an arrow sticking out of the wall.

Something is up... Put the one good trap at the end, behind the really bad ones?

Watch for the pressure plate, tripwire, whatever. Duck her head under the arrow as she walks by. Keep walking.

It was a tripwire, but just the one, and she manages to avoid triggering it.

Up next: hot coals!

If this was further into the future, she'd be looking for game show cameras.

Are they susceptible to just being pushed to the side into a pile, unearthing the floor to walk on?

And then she thinks for a minute... With the way this has been going, are they even hot? Let's bother to test that before the attempt to push them aside. Metal gauntlet on the left hand, let's go check.

They are hot! They are not however impossible to walk on, nor are they probably hot enough to burn her. Just – hot and probably kinda painful.

Or, would be, without boots?

Then with her thick leather boots, she'll just kick a path to walk on with shuffling, with grumpy stares the whole time.

How bright is inside the castle? There's been enough closeness to the entrance and then the random firetrap to not have to notice so far.

It's not particularly well-lit but she won't need a light to navigate.

Next up: spikes in the ground! They are extremely sharp and if she steps on them to try them out they will in fact go straight through her boots and into her feet.

She can, if she's careful, walk between them. It is unfortunately too large to jump right over.

She flicks her right hand and magics up a small light in her palm. Best to be lit.

Still grumpy. She kicks the side of the nearest spike, hoping it'll just bend or snap out of place. It's that or of course going between them, though how big is each individual spike?

It does not bend or snap. The spikes vary between about one and three centimeters in width at the base and between three and about ten centimeters tall.

They are quite nasty.

Sigh. "Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer."

Patience and careful walking it is.

The spikes, fortunately, do not move or shoot up at her or anything horrible like that.

They are extremely sharp, though, so she needs to make sure she is very careful about where she places her leg. Lest she cut herself.

Carefulness was the original plan anyways, before the dastardly incompetence trick this castle has begun.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Then she gets to the other side, without issue.

A few steps later one of the stones in the ground is slightly loose. She may trip over it.

Blank staring.

"You almost assembled a good trap, but this part is on the wrong side." Halta pushes it sideways with her foot, perhaps something lies underneath in this continued ruse.

If grey soil counts?

No it does not.

The stone is left off to the side where it is, and she keeps walking.

Nothing happens for a bit. The corridor continues without any branching points, even.

Calm walking. Footsteps echoing. Step step step.

And then she reaches a wall!

It seems she has found a dead-end.

Halta pulls out her hammer and taps the wall. If it isn't an illusory/fake wall or doesn't have a secret way past, that grey thing is being dragged into the Demon Lord's chambers.

Sounds hollow.

Of course.

Idle tapping of bricks, looking for switches, so forth. Her right hand has the light source and hammer, her left hand feels along for the switches with her gauntlet.

If there's a switch or lever or clear way to open it, it's not near the wall itself.

Getting angry would just make this plan successful, I just need to remain calm.

Halta puts the hammer away and turns around, walking back down the hall. There should be other corridors to go through besides this one, and there's no need to get excessive and level the wall regardless of how annoying not having a pickaxe is.

At least the tripping and spike trap is correctly aligned now, even though it's now trivial knowing where all of it is.

Then she will successfully not kill herself getting back to one of the previous branching points.

Assuming she goes down a route she hasn't yet travelled, there's another reasonably long stretch of corridor.

Corridor #2 it is. Her ball of string gets a little loop infront of Corridor #1; Hall of Inept Traps, and the string comes with her down the new path.

After a while of getting darker again, her moving away from the start of the maze, it starts to get lighter again.

And after a while more of this, she can see that at the end of the corridor there's a well-lit room.

Her light source of a magical glowing ball in her right hand makes it fairly uneventful.

There's no real attempt at being stealthy here, so she walks up towards the lit room keeping her pace.

… It looks like a plant room! As in, literal plants, not filled with electricals.

They are quite large and in fact quite green, which doesn't really seem to fit with what she's seen of the place so far.

"What's normal to us could be foreign to him."

As long as they don't attack, it's a stroll through to look for an exit.

The plants do not in fact attack. They look quite well taken care of, and she probably recognizes all but a few varieties.

There's an exit on the other side of it, if she follows the clear path between the plants. It's rather pretty, really, and might well be rare in the castle, having natural sunlight from above through a large glass window.

Greenhouse successfully admired.

Walking continues.

There is a lit fireplace in the side of the wall up ahead. It is quite hot, but will not in fact kill her – or even burn her – if she walks by.

The random fireplace is puzzled at for its location, but otherwise left alone for the moment.

This castle requires a good architect. A shame it might never get one.

Hopefully the lack of traps means we're headed in a good direction. Walk onward!

… She comes to a large room. In fact, she takes the side-entrance to a large room, a very ornate room that fits back with the castle's typical color scheme.

It has an empty throne at one end.

Finally.

Halta puts down her ball of string, then walks over to the normal entrance doors opposite the throne and in an act of mercy opens them and stands like she just walked through.

An ominous breeze presses against her, from inside the throne room, and she might notice that the throne is engulfed in flames.

When they disappear, there's a woman in their place, sitting down on the throne.

"Well. Who do we have here."

Halta idly pushes the doors shut behind her.

And then stares for a minute.

And then realizes this. "My apologies, I forgot my manners for a moment. Halta Izluude. You are," she pulls out her journal and flips, "Ev-in-ira"?

[Halta: Hall-tah]
[Izluude: Iz-loo-oo-dee]

"Avenira."

"Pleased to meet you." A head-nod and a quick scribbling the correct name before putting the journal away.

"Regardless, I am the next Champion-Aspirant here to fight the Demon Lord."

"Could you, just quickly before we do anything –"

She pauses, frowning, sniffs a bit, and then looks over at the side door.

"… Did you come in through the greenhouse?"

"It was a lovely greenhouse."

"… You didn't knock down the wall?"

Halta idly scratches the side of her head with her left hand. "No, it would take quite a bit of energy. There were plenty of other paths to look into."

"… Huh." She looks confused.

A moment later, she gets up from her chair, grabbing hold of a dark metallic staff formed from a brief cloud of purple smoke. "You will rue the day you chose this path, warrior."

Now Halta looks confused. "The wall is just behind this door, correct? Why, would I be somewhere else?"

Pause. "Metaphorical path."

Eyebrow twitching. "The traps were more of an insult than of a challenge, then."

She draws her longsword, beginning to charge magic in her left hand for various uses. "You can just tell me the way to the Demon Lord, and we can avoid this."

"Darling," she says, smirking, "who do you think I am?"

Deadpanned "Avenira."

And then in more normal words, "You show up in some legends long ago in the line of champions, but then cease to appear. If you have some sort of legacy, it fails to exist in our records."

"I have no idea what your legends say about me, but I am the Demon Lord." She sighs and sits on the floor. "Some idiot got it wrong, long ago."

Headtilt. "I suppose we got it right at some point, if you cease to be written separately? I apologize for trying to apply something from a century or so ago."

A shrug. "Well, mostly correct. Given the whole Demon Lord name." Pause. "Or?"

"Did I or did I not say some idiot got it wrong."

"I missed which part was 'incorrect', my apologies..."

Halta relaxes a tiny bit, lowering her stance a little. "Every Champion throughout the years just failed to state this? Has it always been... Well, have you always been like this?"

"Yes. To both. For some reason."

Halta blinks hard, then stands back up straight. "I... Apologize for my species' stupidity on this matter. Nearly all the legends seem to be very inaccurate regardless."

She pull out her journal. "Most of the stuff is in here, nigh all of it is exaggerated or false."

"I don't suppose I can get a copy of that when you leave?" she sighs.

"That would defeat the purpose of, you know," she waves her sword for a moment, "defeating you."

Halta throws her journal as a frisbee to Avenira. "But it also has no reason to be taken back with me. You can keep it here for the future as entertainment, since by then I would have clarified a few things back home."

Avenira catches it, quite easily, then sets it down on the ground beside her.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to do a gal a favor, would you?"

"I am willing to listen, of course."

I may be rather confused, but she is still the enemy here. Stay alert for attacks now, it could be a terrible one-liner.

"Well," she says, getting up from the floor, "it'd be really nice if you could just die already."

Her eyes flash and she darts forwards, suddenly accompanied by a dark aura.

"Was that terrible one-liner REALLY NECESSARY?!"

Her left hand's magic forms a pointed cone-shape that covers back up her arm, in her normal color of blue-tinged silver. Halta extends her left arm forward, to meet whatever Avenira attempts with a forward point of magic.

In actuality, Halta plans to use this magic to dash past Avenira to not only switch sides, but to scrape by to test how powerful Avenira's magic is before a more direct attack.

She'll have to be quick to avoid the swipe aimed at her legs.

The magic cone-spear shoots forwards and pulls Halta behind it.

Let alone a swipe with a staff is, well, curious.

It could be something related to the dark smoke shapes coming off it.

She jumps backwards, making to follow Halta.

Likely, though either way Halta rockets to the other side of the room.

She lands herself next to the throne, and retracts her magic back as she turns around. "Do you have to make everything here so inept?! It is just so... Pitiable!"

She pauses, briefly. "Do you or do you not see the aura of darkness?"

And then she's moving again.

Her left hand goes up, shines, and a gust of wind emanates outwardly. A strong wind, but still possible to move within for a normal person when aware of it. The wind can affect magical emanations, as the dark aura is mention in the legends.

"Announce your intentions, like a poor villain! I have my charms regardless." Halta has stopped being confused, and is more annoyed at this whole situation now.

That gets her a deriding noise and then something shoots forwards from the end of the staff.

It's quite sharp.

Sidestep, and after the movement the wind is pushing it off course as well.

When it impacts the wall (or her throne), inspection.

It goes through the wall. Leaves a small gap in the brickwork.

There's another one where it came from.

Poor brickwork, fancy footwork.

"Do you understand me when I say this has all been rather pitiable?"

"Oh, I heard you," she responds. "I'm just getting warmed up."

The throne catches alight (again).

Halta shrugs. "I suppose that with fifty years between any sort of significant movement it might take a while, but that would leave plenty of time to think of adequate defenses..."

And then Halta flicks her arm downward, suddenly dispersing the wind and changing it to her own magical silvery bolt at Avenira.

She dodges.

"Were you even trying?"

"Probing. You just showed me how fast you can dodge, and therefore how fast it needs to be."

Less anger, more focus. Halta is already warmed up, but waits for a moment.

"Lower bound," she sings – and then there's another dart.

And a second.

"Well they would fail to hit regardless!"

Now for these two incoming shots Halta tries (after dodging) to block one and redirect the other, to see if it's possible. After that would be the time to proceed into a legendary wizard battle, knowing a good deal of Avenira's strengths so far and having enough information to be able to fix the legends on the Demon Lord's power...

Blocking the knife is hard but doable, with magic. Redirecting it… less so.

And then there's a fireball.

Halta does a magic-assisted jump up to the ceiling, then drops back down after the spell has passed.

Something is wrong here... I suppose no regrets.

"With all due respect, in no joking or insulting way, are you holding back?"

"Do you want a new volcano in the landscape?"

Fireball.

In the middle of your castle?

Ceiling, floor. "Not necessarily, just..." Sigh. "Something about this is bothering me, is all."

Avenira pauses, at that.

"… Huh."

"It might be suicidal to keep trying to talk, but..." More said for herself, but said out loud.

Halta sighs, running her free hand through her hair. Her hair is pony tailed and tucked behind her clothes, but the sides are touchable. "Should I win, you will cease to be until I pass on, and I do want to know the truth of all this. Would be a bother for both of us if you keep being the Demon Lord instead of the Demon... Whatnot."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"A Lord is normally referring to a male?"

"Oh." Pause. "I mean it has a ring to it, unlike 'Demon Queen'."

Nod. "Demon Lady is quite strange in that regard. Lord is still slightly inaccurate, unless..." Thinking pause. "You said you have always been this way?"

"… 'This way' meaning female? Uh, I think I would've noticed if not."

"Just making sure, most of what I have to go off of," Halta gestures towards the journal, "is very inaccurate. I have heard of some spells along those lines, and you likely have access to them."

Pause. "Well, I have no way to know if you would have access to those spells."

"… Shapeshifting?"

She looks down at her hand, seems to notice she's stopped flinging fireballs, and – throws a small one.

Halta's reflexes react as if it was full size, but slowly adjusts herself instead of shifting back to position immediately.

"Same area of magic, but more permanent? I believe it can be sustained without magic after the spell is cast... I may be more of a scholar than a knight, but I am still a knight _{of sorts.} My magical theories are not in research and learning for the sake of it, like a bearded elder in a tower somewhere who accomplishes nothing."

"Magical research sounds fascinating," she says, trying not to yawn. "Tragically I have a castle to maintain."

Fireball! (Again, small.)

This fireball just gets deflected to the side.

"Rather boring to me. Apologies for getting sidetracked, but you are at least willing to talk to me. Why?"

"I figure you're gonna kill me eventually and I'm gonna spend a hundred years or whatever standing around in Hell, so," she shrugs. "Why not make the most of the opportunity."

Eyebrow raise. "That makes it seem like being here is not much of an improvement."

"No, no, it's quite a lot better," she says. "I can assure you of that."

"Well then."

Pause.

"Have you thought of getting someone to talk to?" It might be irrelevant to suggest her to stop waging war...

"Why, I have all my lovely demons, of course."

"The dogs and the... Gardener? Understandable I suppose."

A moment to think of wordings, before deciding to just be blunt about it. "Sorry for being blunt, but, is there some reason why you do all this?"

"– I have no idea what you mean," she says.

Larger fireball, with far more force behind it.

Jump over it. "Seems I have to play hot-and-cold with responses to my questions here?

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."

Another one, hurled very theatrically but again with a lot of power.

Fifth fireball, third jump. "I will ask them regardless, let alone I doubt you can decide if I want the answer."

"Then be happy you're able to dodge the answer, namely: fireballs."

Another.

Again.

"You already told me there is some reason. If I can keep dodging, I can keep asking. Hatred of humanity?"

She smiles. "At least one of them."

Knife.

Halta smiles, and decides now is a fine time to put some of that magic towards enhancing her speed. The knife is dodged.

"Funny. World ending scheme? Some sort of thing you want and have to obtain by force?"

"Would you like me to start reciting war chants?"

"If you mean the babbles that come from your 'army', then they fail to explain anything of use. Besides, you seem to be the best source of information."

"I'm sure I am," she responds, smiling again. "Would you like to ask a better question?"

"Are you going to tell me this better question, or am I to be jumping in your throne room until I guess it?"

"There are a lot of better questions," is the response. "My age, my true name, how I came about, how you might defeat me permanently, how you might conquer the underworld, what magical lore I might know, if I know the secret to immortality."

She picks at her nails a bit, then sends another fireball.

Trivial dodge. "Sorry, I don't speak fireball and I doubt you'll answer with much else." Halta throws her hands up in the air and summons her best pokerface. "How, pray tell, might I defeat you permanently?"

"Well if you find my greenhouse…" she responds, and then throws another fireball.

Dodge. A very deadpanned reply, "I did, remember? I walked through it on my way here."

"Gosh! Then surely this will be my last time to roam the lands – I shall do my utmost to be careful."

Flames.

Slide to the left.

"And did you expect me to believe you? I can burn it on my way out regardless, but even then, that fails to answer anything."

Her face changes, growing more serious. "That'd be pretty mean, actually – my gardener takes a lot of pride in his art."

"Exactly. I have no reason to be spiteful, and you have no reason to be truthful."

"So we can both be neither? I mean, this just disincentivizes truth – what if you then turned out to be spiteful?"

Blink blink. "I had no plans to be spiteful, but I highly doubt that you are a plant."

"I'm not in fact a plant." Pause. "I mean, I guess it depends on your definition."

Arms folded, a gaze between 'annoyed' and 'fess up, child'.

"Start explaining."

"Perhaps I just wilt if I don't get enough sunlight."

Sigh. "Okay, fine, thinking it is. Plant. Explains the odd vines, could explain the dead area around as you using it all... A motive to try to attack us, to work towards the ocean across the world."

Her head leans back to stare at the ceiling idly. "Sunlight... Surely. Could just have vines next to the Brink of Sudden Death to have plenty, explaining the power..."

Halta sighs, and slouches forwards with letting her arms hang in defeat. "And you have enough intelligence to wait before returning to fight, let alone being just a removal of your head with the roots being intact." A very loud, extended groan.

Snort. "I mean I was mostly joking but sure, that interpretation works."

A shorter groan before she straightens up. "And that is why I have to be skeptical of what you say, most things can make sense with just actions instead of reasons, even before you add in an unreliable source of information."

Shrug. "It wouldn't be too much effort for me to create a living plant, I'm sure. I could do one for you, as a memorial."

"Not necessary." Sigh, and a quick rubbing of her temples. "I might have to ruin the greenhouse on my way out, my apologies to the gardener."

"Ugh. I mean, he'll live, but, ugh."

"Then, can you stop joking? You make me think the greenhouse is important enough to be ruined."

She rolls her eyes. "Sure. What do you want."

Sigh before sarcasm. "Oh, did I not say I arrived to ask you to marry me?"

Halta just keeps going, making fun of Avenira. "You see, we could get married in a big public event to fix you being misremembered, then on our honeymoon night you can show me are you really a plant. The next morning, given that nobody nearby will be sleeping that night, a good time to figure out how you keep coming back. We can have a lovely life together while we figure out how to stop this stupid war!"

"… Mmm, sounds like it could be fun, but I think I'll pass." She pauses, again, to inspect her nails. "I'm not sure it's long-term tenable, y'see."

"Nor do I think this conversation will last much longer, I suppose you will remain the Demon Lord after all." A statement meant to try to get Avenira to keep talking, Halta will still try to clear that point up.

"Think any gardener might be more willing to talk?"

"It's actually just the one!" she responds. "He's quite proud of it all – sometimes gets a few of the others to help with weeding and such, but he manages the major features."

"I would think weeds would fail to sprout here," gestures around, "given the vines about and the oddity of the surrounding. Either way, do I have to go find him?"

"I doubt you'll be able to find him, actually." Shrug. "They're all in hiding, preparing for the long road when I'm gone."

Shrug. "And you have no way to talk to them in between? Or does your own army come fight itself?"

Avenira looks around, quickly, and then hesitates a little.

"… They're not very smart. They kinda need me to direct things."

...What? Already it seems everything is fairly inept, but... Wait, Avenira has been quite unmotivated to actually harm me. She said that her being sent back to hell is 'much better', and with all the questions she avoids answering she answers that one? Have I just been missing some-- She might be not the biggest demon? But then, hmm.

Halta stands up straight, takes her longsword into her right hand, and points with her left. Channelling all of her overdramatic hero for this idea. "Then, I have one last thing before I rid you from this world again. Make me that memorial plant, and have it have your own personality." Then back to normal. "I might want a few more questions, and nobody would notice if it ceases to be before I leave. Feel free to talk through it if you care." And then back to overdramatic. "Make it quick, this has gone on long enough!"

If I was wrong, this is going to look so stupid...

"Honestly?" she says, "I'm really not sure I trust you enough."

Nevertheless, from the ground sprouts a deep purple vine, thickening and assuming the shape of a small tree in a matter of seconds. Fruit forms on some of the branches, like blue peaches, and then the growth stops, seemingly done.

"I hear food has all sorts of weird effects on mortals, though."

Something half between a grunt and a sigh. "If I wanted to play who-trusts-who, who-said-what, who-meant-what, I would have succumbed to my mother and worn a dress!"

Halta grips her longsword, and gets into stance to attack.

"… Even I don't wear dresses," says Avenira, who is in fact not wearing a dress. (Pants and a nice blouse, actually, all in very dark colors.)

"And I do indeed find it somewhat better to talk to you over those brainless girls, but that is far enough..." Halta walks over to the tree, picks off one of the fruit...

...And then throws it at Avenira but slightly above. Then it's a burst of speed forwards, with her sword to clothesline Avenira's staff and arm and sail past afterwards. The first of her one-two punch, as the wind she brings with her will work to dissipate any black auras first...

Catching the fruit on the other side is an option, but not entirely intended.

Avenira moves to the side, quickly but not enough, and her hand gets severed.

It looks like a far cleaner cut than it perhaps should be, but provokes a noise of fury.

The thrown fruit gets a catch and a spot in the lip of her backpack. If Halta wasn't paying attention, the severing would have just been the best outcome of that attack. It is of no consequence now, really.

And then the main strike. Speed boost to just in front of Avenira, and then drive the sword home into the vitals. Expelling the magic in a burst with it is likely overkill at this point, but no use half-assing things, let the silvery explosion emanate 180 if it lands (it should miss the little tree...).

As Halta goes to do such, Avenira smiles horribly, speeding up to match – and then all she does is drag a finger through the air, pointing it at Halta's leg, accompanied by a searing pain.

She doesn't do anything else to stop her.

A bit of pain doesn't stop her driving that sword home, just gritting her teeth and noting to look at it in a moment...

It goes through, hardly making a noise and only getting marginal resistance…

And then the body, still impaled on the sword, crumbles to a dust, dark as night.

...

Well, that is that.

Halta pulls her sword out of the pose of the final strike, and sheathes it. Her magic flows back, since there was leftover.

...Do I need to go acquire the medallion myself? Seems so.

Right. Back to work, this is not done yet. Leg, fruit, medallion, return home. And Halta quickly scans her leg with magic, running her hand alongside her pants to focus it.

 … It's nasty, whatever it is. Doesn't seem like it'll have trouble healing, except insofar as it is very inclined to leave a scar.

...

Bitch.

Then out comes the fruit from the top of her pack. A chuckle slips out, but she stifles herself quickly.

Nom.

It tastes rather sweet, but otherwise like the peach it resembles. The color has no noticeable impact on anything.

I was expecting it to be incredibly spicy. Pleasant change, for once.

The one in her hand gets eaten, and then it's off to view the... Rubble behind the throne, for some idea of where to obtain the medallion.

The rubble itself does not seem to hold any secrets to the mystery.

If she looks at the back of the throne, however, it seems like that could be the medallion, embedded into the seat.

"Well, that was easy."

She walks over. If it looks easy to pull out she tries, and if not (or if it only looks easy) her war hammer can finish off the poor throne.

It does not look particularly easy to remove!

However, when she hits the throne with the hammer, it pops out quite readily. The throne does not move or dent.

Sure, whatever. The method is less significant than the prize.

The Champion's Medallion, a small golden disc on a cord. Originally an object held by the second Champion, the third brought it back triumphantly. Through a whole century, it became the prize for whomever slays the Demon Lord to identify them. And now, Halta holds it in her hand. The 'hard' part is over, when she returns home her two goals in life will be done. Heroism, purpose, unambiguously a good thing...

It feels bittersweet to her, after what happened today. The cord is put around her neck and the medallion tucked under her armor. Halta walks away, unceremoniously tucking her hammer away and feeling conflicted.

Down the corridor to the indoor garden, she decides to actually have a lunch today and to spend it looking at the odd plants.

The odd plants… mostly do not react to her presence. One, a rather unappealing shade of blue, sways as though it might be considering her, if she's looking for that sort of thing.

Halta remains sitting against the wall, not surrounded by plants but on the outskirts. She's casually watching them all for safety, but admiring the plants also makes her notice it.

"Hello there, plant... This happens to still be like talking to myself, but I still have had no conversations as of late, Avenira was not much of a discussion." Nom some hardtack. "Strange to think what a demon might have in here, but I think I can leave it unburnt. Sway away, little plant."

"Does everyone get strangely poetic when they have nobody around for quite awhile? It can be amusing, though odd..."

The plants do not care to respond. Perhaps they can't.

No demons make themselves known.

Of course they don't.

A prompt leaving of the castle is in order. Retrieve her ball of yarn from nearby, walk her way out with it, pack it, and then walk to exit in the same way through the dog kennel in the wall.

She manages to get away from the castle without too much fuss.

It's possible she'll see some demons, some retreating and some clutching dramatically at their chests, others yet losing the powerful auras they had going for them before…

It looks like the Demon Lord – or Lady – really is vanquished.

The show isn't necessary, but it is pretty amusing.

Outside Halta walks away from the castle, sparing only a single glance backwards. A short walk away is her tent, near the endless void surrounding the world that is the Brink of Sudden Death. It's still too early to sleep, but going to sleep (or at least nap) is what she wants to do, and there's a distinct lack of anybody that could stop her from doing that.

It doesn't take long. It's quite peaceful, calming and refreshing, and she wakes up in what feels like no time… in an empty meadow.

She stands up, looks around, and crosses her arms. "Strange choice."

If she pays attention she'll notice a slight, cool breeze.

That's all.

With not much else to be doing, she sits back down. She does some mild stretching to wake up, and will wait a little while.

… The grass feels weird.

Like it might not have the proper texture.

Well, it's a dream.

Or it's an illusion, but not quite a distasteful one. Or it's a strange thing that occurs near the Demon Lord's castle and nobody has ever noted. The internal oh-shit-something-is-actually-harming-me alarm is still silent, so Halta just flops onto her back. Plenty of time to do nothing in (most likely) a dream.

Too bad that I had no time to talk more to Avenira...

Funny, it looks like the sun might have gone out while she wasn't looking. Or maybe that's just a large black shadow covering it.

Still nothing of concern. It's a dream.

[Teasingly] "I was using that, do you mind?"

No response, unless a slight breeze counts.

[Condescendingly] "Now, just because you have had no reason to play nice with anybody before does not allow you to be rude."

Halta's dream brain would push against the dream, to return the sun. She has a charm that would alert her to blatant manipulation, and attempt to wake her up in order to prevent mental suggestion while asleep, but it's a passive charm and wouldn't seem to stand up to potentially being brute forced past by a Demon Lord's power.

The light returns as the shadow coalesces above her, and then casually falling down from it:

Avenira has returned, it seems.

[Mild amusement] "Oh, just an entrance." Halta sits up. "Fairly good, but still a bother." She's still not entirely lucid.

"I'd apologize," she says, "but I'd need a good reason for that."

[Implicating] "Perhaps in good manners?"

She seems to consider.

"Nah."

[Resigned] "Well I had not very high hopes to begin with."

"What sort of hopes did you have?"

[Neutral] "For starters, sitting down so we speak face to face? Or something along those lines."

Avenira falls to a seated position, quite gracefully.

"Sure."

A small smile.

[Friendly Conversational Tone] "I had hoped to learn things, about you and about Hades. I got some about you, but not much in the end."

"Uh-huh."

Dream logic slips in. "Are you really a plant?"

"It depends on what you mean!"

"Are you closer related to the plants in your greenhouse, or to a human, or to a demon?"

Upon saying 'plants in your greenhouse', the wiggling plant pops up nearby amongst some (random) flowers while she thinks of it.

Avenira looks at the plant, frowns.

"I'd say a demon."

She looks over as well, but doesn't seem distressed by it. "By a large margin or not?"

"… I think it's hard to tell."

"Do you want help deciding?"

"It depends," she starts, then pauses, considering. "It depends quite a lot on your definitions."

[Deadpan] "Between effectively myself, the Lord of Hades, and a cabbage."

A few cabbages pop up in a row next to the sporadic garden that's beginning.

She raises an eyebrow at the plants.

"Then I'd probably pick you."

A moment is taken to consider. A small vegetable garden is expanded, with a small fence around it to separate it from the flowers. Dreamlogic.

"That is... Fairly strange. Are you not in control of your own actions, like I suspected?"

"At what remove are we talking, here?"

[Mild annoyance] "You really hate elaborating on anything. Are you or are you not?"

"I am ultimately responsible for everything I do."

"Thank you. Was that so hard?"

Flat look.

[Mild annoyance, but said teasingly/insultingly] "We have these words, 'yes' and 'no', for answering questions. Have you heard of them?"

"Would you quit with the patronizing bullshit, please. Darling."

Smiles. "Would you quit with the faux-mysterious bullshit please, love?"

Avenira rolls her eyes. "I don't suppose you know anything about Hades himself, do you?"

"Himself? We refer to the place as 'Hades' and the presumable person as 'the Lord of Hades'. So, no."

"The Lord thereof, then."

"Nothing in particular."

"He's not a very nice man."

[Sarcastic] "I never would have guessed."

"He's also not a very easy man to deal with."

Though Halta's dream-avatar doesn't say anything, her reactive thought bounces into hearing as a distant, quiet echo. "Runs in the family?"

She talks during this regardless, unaware. "I would assume. This does not tell me much."

Avenira pauses, seeming to consider.

"If you were to mysteriously spring into existence shortly prior to your father declaring war on one of the only sapient beings you know of, what would you do?"

Pondering. The echo is being [un]helpful. "Do I count?"

"Deny it, I suppose. Depends on the reasoning."

"Deny what."

"I would ask for an explanation, and refuse to assist unless one was given. Deny this war."

"If he'd been planning to do it without even knowing of your existence, do you really think that would do anything to slow him?"

"A separate question, but does not affect my answer. I said nothing of slowing it, merely that I would want answers as to why. If that involves the equivalent of me taking a trip to Hades, I might do it."

"The reasons why are that he's a cruel, callous – being – with a great lack of anything one might term a personality. He has, at most, something I might call a drive."

"Well then, why would I stay with him?"

"What would you do, not with him?"

"Certainly you have not forgotten what happened earlier today."

The metal gauntlet reappears on Halta's left arm, though it seems much more uncomfortable at the moment. Fluttering memories that could be grabbed and brought to view seemingly blow past, none feeling positive in emotions.

"Attempt to fight him?"

"Well, that is an option. I chose to make something better than him happen."

"Unfortunately, he's… shall we say, prone to lashing out and very good at getting what he wants. The last person to stand up to him, a minor deity of stability, was turned to ash and scattered across several planes of existence." Pause. "Or something like that, I was trying not to hurl at the time."

"Sorry to hear... Wait, you refer to him as a deity? That seems to conflict with... A lot."

"He himself? … How does it conflict?"

"Well if he has the power to defeat a deity so utterly, he would be as powerful as one, which would... Seems I skipped ahead in that line of thinking. Apologies."

"Which would make him a deity? Which would make me one, too?"

"Supposedly, if you were made of the same stuff or have the same power. You have not told me how you came to be, but the inherent revival would support it."

"I wouldn't like to give away all my secrets."

[Minor annoyance resumes] "You have not given away anything. Presumably Lord of Hades is powerful, yes, but that has been all you said."

"Sometimes I wonder why I even bother."

[More Annoyed] "I wonder as well. Am I amusing of some sort? Some sort of verbal plaything, as you dance in my mind?"

"You're one step of a very long plan."

"Thirty-one long, I assume... Hmm, sabotage?"

"That would be the obvious thing to try, I'd think."

"Well it seems to have worked, presumably. Are you going to sit in my dreams and attempt to make my life a long one now?"

"I was thinking something a little more than that. Or maybe hoping would be a better word."

"Well, I am listening. I will not allow direct possession, let alone anywhere I would walk through."

"I'm actually not sure how much you'd need to allow it, not that that probably helps."

"Am I to guess your desires, or will you finally answer a question?"

"I was hoping you might help me in my goals. To the extent you can."

"More questions responded to with vague statements and non-answers. Keep talking."

"I'm not, honestly, all that clear on the capabilities of humans, especially as relates to magic."

Halta jumps to standing and screams out in frustration upwards, before looking down at Avenira and pointing her finger at her. "TELL ME, the SPECIFIC THING you want, and I can ANSWER YOU DIRECTLY! Stop this verbal SAYING NOTHING!"

"… I don't know what in particular I want you to do, just that it seemed like a mysteriously good idea to check in with a human before I continued in my stupid – thing – that isn't working quite how I wanted it to."

"The word 'thing' is the one you need to expand."

Halta's face contorts for a moment, realizing something, and she sits back down. "Do you demons speak our tongue normally, or do you have a different way of communicating?"

"It took me a while to pick up the language." Pause. "That is to say normally it's normally."

"... Normally it is normally... Right. I will try to... Keep that in mind."

Sigh.

[Dejected] "Can you... Talk more, on your plan?"

"Eventually, I'd like to remove his power over the overworld. I have further ambitions but getting even that far seems… difficult."

"I am going to have SUCH a time when I wake up. It is not easy to figure out what you mean while half my head is currently thinking of plants. Do I have to remain asleep?"

The garden behind them has gone on to become a seemingly-endless flower garden. A section remains as a copy of Avenira's greenhouse room, surrounded by cabbage.

"It might be harder to communicate with you awake. What I mean is, overall, it would be nice if I could use his resources to shape the world as I want. Without him."