"Well I'll be." The blacksmith whom Barion had met upon entering the village for the first time seemed surprised by their presence, "Isn't often two folk come out of a hell like that without a scratch on them."
"I wanted to thank you for the information earlier." Barion replied, "I was looking for this troublesome woman, you see."
"Is that so?" His eyes crossed over to Dorma, "Good to see you found her, then."
Reaching into his bag of holding, Barion retrieved a large, silvery ingot from its hem and held it out towards the smith, "Elven silver, as promised."
"Hoh~" Taking the ingot in both hands, the gentleman seemed enamoured with its unearthly shine, "Heard the stories, but never thought such a thing existed. Kind of you, son."
"Things are about to get quite crowded around here." Barion warned, "The guards will be putting in a huge order for tent pegs, so if you want to make a profit, I'd start on them right now."
"I'll take your word for it." The blacksmith replied, placing the ingot onto one of his worktops, "Suppose you two will be heading off, then?"
"Back to the capital, and then wherever else the wind decides to take me."
"Hah! To be young again…"
Saying their farewells, Barion led the horses around to the entrance of the village, crossing out onto the wide prairies of the countryside.
"Elven silver…" Dorma muttered, "So you visited Aelf'ahlnohma recently?"
"It's quite an interesting story. I'll tell you about it sometime."
"I wonder how the Queen of Elves reacted?"
"Never sought an audience with her. I didn't want to cause a fuss."
"Well, it's been 500 years, so the Queen we knew has already passed, I'm sure." Dorma smiled knowingly, "Don't think I'm not aware of what happened between you and her when we finished hunting down those Demons in the Aelven Weald."
Thinking for a moment, she gasped, "...Wait, you don't think the current Queen-"
"-I'm going to have to stop you there, Dorma. Let's not suggest anything unbelievable."
"At least now I know why you didn't want to see her." She giggled, "Aren't you the least bit interested? Perhaps she has your eyes?"
"Pipe down."
"How irresponsible…"
While Dorma had spent her own share of time travelling the world following the defeat of the Demon King, she was rarely given the opportunity for such things since her acceptance into the coveted council of Gria. She was thankful for the opportunity to speak to someone so casually, especially an old friend.
The city was within sight in a matter of hours following their departure from Lefershire--a journey filled with reminiscent blethering and catching up. For a moment, it was almost as if the earliest days of his adventuring lifestyle were replaying before Barion's very eyes. Standing at attention for the councilwoman passing through the gates, the guardsmen assigned to the city walls asked no questions as the two of them passed into Gria.
"The world has changed quite a bit, but this city seems to have remained almost exactly the same." Dorma spoke wistfully, "Perhaps it's because it was the only true safe haven back then, but I still feel rather at home in Gria."
"I'm surprised you didn't return home. I thought you wanted to petition Tor for aid with the Demon threat in Khazman?"
"For a few centuries, I did." She replied, "It was wonderful to see the Dominion free from conflict. I still vividly remember those week-long celebrations in the capital where days morphed into nights at the drop of a hat."
"I've been up that way a few times now. It seems they're doing rather well for themselves."
"The deserts are still rife with alchemical reagents, and Khazmani silk remains second to none. In a few decades, I don't doubt the Lunar Dominion will be just as well-off as Tor."
"Why not stay there, if you were interested in politics?"
"Because changes are made here, in Gria. Among all of the Holy Alliance's participants, it remains the strongest link, and the most central to boot. I can do more good for the Lunar Dominion here than I can over there."
"I don't think I could manage a responsibility like that."
"Well, you're much better at managing Demons, so I would stick to that, Barion."
"Speaking of-" He paused, "that Amorphophallus has me a little on edge about the topic. I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep at night easily knowing there may very well be more Demons lurking in the darkest corners of the world."
"No matter how many of them there are, the fact of the matter is that the Demon King has passed. Without him, Demonkind has no leader to rally behind, so it's likely they'll remain hidden until the end of days."
"It still bothers me."
"When was the last time you were in Gria, Barion?" Dorma moved ever-so-slightly closer to him, "The death of a Demon is worth celebrating, not worrying over. Allow yourself a few days of rest. We've accomplished much today."
"I'm not really a fan of resting."
"Hm. I see some things haven't changed." She sighed, "Even a hero can overwork himself, Barion. Promise me you won't try to push yourself too far."
"Still the doting type, I see. Haven't you considered settling down these past 500 years?"
"When you were once the closest comrade of the legendary hero himself, every other man starts to appear a little underwhelming, if I must be honest." Saying that, she allowed her hand to rest upon his shoulder, "Unless, you meant that as an invitation?"
"I'm flattered, but I'm sure you've got a lot of work that needs doing."
"I wish you weren't correct…" Dorma moaned, "-Well then, won't you at least allow me to visit you this evening? I've enjoyed spending time with you today."
"If you have the time, then I'd like that." Barion smiled, "Is the Ten-Dragon inn still around? I'll be staying there, if it is."
"That old dive? Why would you ever want to spend the night there?"
"It saves money, doesn't it?"
"Barion, I can tell without even looking in your coin purse that you're richer than a king. All of those magical items and treasures we found can't have just disappeared."
"It still saves money. Being rich or poor doesn't change that."
"How miserly you've become… a merchant to the core." She sighed, "Feel free to drop me off anywhere, in that case. There are quite a few places I've yet to visit today."
Gria's central square was a thing of great beauty and scale. With a centralised fountain decorated with bronze sculptures of the three Dragon Gods, the royal castle could clearly be seen upon its hilltop perch from the uncluttered plaza. All walks of life, from human to beastfolk, wandered without a care through the hallowed streets of that city. It certainly did appear like the very centre of the known world at a glance.
Once the two of them had said their farewells, Barion and Dorma went their separate ways. First on his to-do list was to report the situation at the goblin burrow to the adventurer's guild, and to have the notice for the burrow removed from its bulletin board to dissuade any more solo adventurers from braving the depths. The guild receptionist was wary of his unbelievable claims, but allowed the notice to be taken down for the foreseeable future.
"Now…" Stepping back out onto the streets, he thought to himself, "The grand library should have what I'm looking for."
When the coalition of the world's nations transformed into the Holy Alliance, it was mandated that a strict historical record of the Demon King's reign be archived to legitimise the event and prepare future generations for conflicts of their own. Gria's grand library was a shelter for the dishevelled and displaced when last he visited it--a centre for the lost and dying who had been crushed, physically or mentally, by the war. Its size made it an ideal location for such a place, but 500 years after the fact, it had been restored to its former glory and then some.
"Devas, Shapechangers, Succubi…" Barion muttered those names as they appeared in one of the library's many tomes, "Is it possible that some of them are still alive? After everything we managed to accomplish?"
Tales and legends of Demons scarcely approached the grim reality of facing one down, Barion noticed. Rather than creatures, they appeared more like unstoppable forces of nature, or perhaps even Gods to those who didn't have the strength to face them. Indeed, Demonic worship was a common occurrence during those times.
"And thus, the legendary hero and his two comrades slew the Demon King in his dark castle, and liberated the world from darkness." He recited, "...They were all eradicated. We made sure of it. So why…?"
His encounter with the Amorphophallus had left Barion more worried than he previously thought. A thin headache had begun to thump away at his mind when the glow of evening had begun to creep through the library window.
"Perhaps Dorma was right… I should rest for now." He muttered, pinching his forehead.
The Ten-Dragon inn was one of the few still operating within Gria during the time of the Demon King's reign, and so Barion, Dorma and Shilahi had spent many a night there. While the inn had undergone some stark remodelling since last he visited, it filled him with a not-entirely unpleasant nostalgia to see that the building still existed.
The rooms were small--the beds uncomfortable and the service non-existent, but it afforded great privacy, being situated in a quieter corner of the city. With a dissatisfied sigh, Barion sat upon the creaking bed and attempted to clear his mind of Demons. As he steadied his breathing, a sound grabbed his attention. Someone was knocking on the door to his room.
"Who is it?" He called suspiciously.
"I'm hurt, Barion. Didn't I tell you I'd come and visit?"
He blinked, and then stood up quickly before opening the door.