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Hell's burgundy crust hung above Nerai's household like a bell jar. Monstrous bats perched on the home's spiked roof, forming a sea of gnashing teeth and fur as they screeched into the night sky. Inside, three demons sat around a shoddy wooden table, wrought from gnarled black trees. Three cups, three seats. A hanging lamp shone from above the sink, casting an eerie yellow glow onto their hunched bodies.

"It's important. For all of us," Nerai said. His voice was solemn, quiet, as he pushed a red envelope across the table. "You two should take a look."

Kazimir remained silent. A deep frown stretched across their maw as they gawked at the crimson envelope; just the sight of it filled them with dread. They hesitated, then gave a small nod to Niya. The smallest gesture of affirmation.

Niya nodded in return - they would be the one to open it. They lifted the envelope with a deep breath, cradled it in their paws. Its weight inspired trepidation in their grasp.

"It's the Council," Niya said.

"Yeah," Nerai replied. His claws tapped anxiously on the table top. "I already read it. So I'll just... give you a minute."

Niya huffed, removed the thick parchment from its shell. A small plume of smoke emerged from the page as it unfurled in their hands - the Council was never one to deny petty frivolities. The goat's eyes then eagerly scanned across the page.

Gradually, Niya's grip on the letter grew tight. Their eyes narrowed in fury, thinly veiled horror burgeoning from within their previously unflappable demeanor. "No. There isn't... there's no way. You're much too young," they breathed.

Kazimir loomed over Niya's shoulder, a deep sorrow possessing them as their gaze traced over the same bold print. "Souls," they muttered, and shook their head. Golden light refracted off of their polished horns. "Those greedy bastards. How many times have they raised the tithe over the last millennia, hm? Twice? Three times?"

Niya scowled and answered, "Three times. This is the third."

Nerai nervously eyed his mistress's faces. Their palpable disgust made his heart pound. He asked, "How much did it increase this time?"

Kazimir sighed. "It used to be fourteen lust contracts per year. From Niya and I, each," they replied. They then pinched their nose, cupped their head in their hands. "Now it's sixteen... but the truth is, we've been struggling to meet tithe as-is. Contracts are sparse nowadays."

"Sixteen," Niya scoffed through gritted teeth. Their arms laid crossed, their fists clenched. "Those greedy assholes. Sixteen contracts per year? How are we even going to _fill_these?"

The question shocked the room into silence, and went unanswered. Anger enveloped the kitchen, choked the demons like smoke. Nobody knew what to say. Nerai could feel his stomach sink. A weight fell on his shoulders, seeming to drag him down onto his seat.

He asked, "What happens if you don't pay the tithe?"

Niya's voice was solemn. "They take our souls as collateral."

"...And what happens to your souls?"

Niya shrugged, gazed out of the kitchen window. "Any number of things," they replied. "Fed into a conduit and processed into raw energy. Or fed to the Yggdrasil. Or made to work in the astral plane-"

Nerai raised his hand, frowned. "Okay," he said. "I... get it. I get it."

"We'll have to join a scouting guild," Kazimir interjected. They fiddled with the table's edge, drumming their fingers across its ridge. "They'll help us find extra contracts. It'll cost a fair bit, but...we can make this work. We have to."

Nerai's eyes flitted between his lovers, an anxious frown stretching across his maw. He drew a nervous breath and asked, "Why not just take the Council's offer? It would solve everything."

Rage flashed in Niya's eyes. A faint red glow set their irises alight. They snapped, "No. Out of the question."

"Why?"

"Because it's out of the question," Niya barked, their face contorted with anger. "You are not taking souls to pay our tithe. That is final."

The outburst soured Kazimir's demeanor. They glared at Niya, rested a paw on their arm, and met their molten gaze. No words were spoken; and yet, Niya begrudgingly backed down. They leaned backward, and Kazimir took their place.

Kazimir gently caressed Nerai's hand, their gaze unexpectedly soft. They said, "Honey... the Council's job is to manipulate demons into doing their bidding. I know this might seem like a good deal, but there's always a catch. You'd do best to avoid it altogether."

Nerai shrugged, bit his lip. "I don't know," he said. "Getting recognized by the Council is... kinda an honor. And gathering souls seems pretty exciting. Most demons never get to do that. Not to mention it'll pay our tithes - our whole tithes - for the rest of our lives."

"It's not an honor," Niya replied. Their eyes shot daggers at the eager dragon. "An honor would be a medal, or an official title. Let's be clear: this is an invitation to do the Council's dirty work."

Nerai raised an eyebrow. "This is dirty work?" he asked. "Seems a bit too glamorous for that."

Kazimir's voice was tender, pained. "Nerai... no. None of this is worth it. Please trust us."

"I _do_trust you," Nerai replied. "But... let's just think about this. If I started collecting souls, I'd get a share of the power for every soul I harvest. I could grow my powers without training. You wouldn't have to apprentice me anymore..."

"Nerai-"

"...And I could change my body however I'd like - I could finally be me. And our tithes would be paid in full!" Nerai's smile was wide, earnest, as he spread his arms. "Tell me how this is a bad deal."

Niya scowled, dropped the envelope onto the table. "Taking mortal souls isn't fun," they growled. "And it damn well isn't worth some magic powers. You're better off developing your powers on your own."

"Why?" Nerai asked. "This sounds...perfect. I'd finally have a purpose down here. A job to do."

A pang of sadness ran through Niya's body. It passed over their face for just a moment, then retreated, leaving their visage blank.

"Do you want to be the Council's lackey for the rest of eternity?" Niya asked. "If you want purpose, we can find you purpose. A better purpose."

"And risk your souls being taken?" Nerai shot back. "This isn't just about my powers; it's about our safety. What happens when tithe increases again? What if the scouting guild denies you, and we can't find new contracts? I want to keep us safe. For good."

Kazimir smacked their lips, grasped Nerai's hand atop the table. "Baby, becoming a harvester of souls is dangerous," they explained. "Especially when you're so young. Most demons wait centuries before even _considering_it."

Nerai was silent for a moment, furrowed his brow. "How dangerous?" he asked.

Kazimir looked askance, huffed. They said, "Honey, we don't know. Taking souls empowers your demonic form; it's like overcharging a battery...and the consequences of overloading your form are unpredictable." They shook their head. "And besides, taking a mortal's soul is a huge commitment. It's not something you can take back."

Nerai shifted in his seat, tapped his claw on the wooden table. He awkwardly puckered his lips, smudging his black lipstick.

"I know, I know... but I still think this would be a great opportunity for me," he said, his voice low. "I'd be able to change this... body... to something I like. I'd provide for all of us. I'd be a real demon." He cracked a nervous smile. His thick draconic tail swished on the glossed wooden floor. "I could become as powerful as you two in the span of a few days. Isn't that exciting?"

Kazimir shot a worried glance at Niya, exhaled sharply. "Honey... taking souls isn't a game. And it isn't a shortcut to enhancing your powers. The magic you wield needs to be honed. Responsibly."

"I_am_ being responsible."

"Not right now, you're not," Niya snapped. They waved their paw in the air, stared downward at the puny dragon. "Nerai, be honest with yourself. You've been a demon for a single year. Taking a soul while your mortal coil isn't even done fading - while your powers are nascent, no less. We don't know what could happen to you."

Nerai leaned over the table, glanced exasperatedly around the room. He said, "If I'm not ready, then why did the Council give me a licence? I didn't even ask for it. They gave me permission to make soulbonds because they know I'm ready. Somehow, some way, I'm special."

"You're being naive," Niya said. "You gather contracts and souls through the Council, and the Council alone. You are a conduit_to them - you gather souls for _them. And they don't care how that power will affect you." They huffed, crossed their arms.

"Nerai, I'm sorry, but...you're not special."

"The Council says I am," Nerai replied.

"The Council considers you a tool. And a particularly gullible one at that."

Nerai narrowed his eyes. A grimace rose to his face. "And what's wrong with being a tool?" he shot back. "Every single demon in Hell conducts deals through the Council. Even you. At least now I could get some _power_from it. Why would I deny that?"

"Nerai-"

"Neither of you have even taken a soul," Nerai said, and threw his claws in the air. "What would you know about it?"

Niya recoiled. They opened their mouth to speak, but words stuck in their throat. Tears welled in their eyes, and that fiery anger melted from their face, replaced with desperation. "Please, Nerai... just don't. It's not worth it."

Nerai simply shook his head. His voice was pained.

"One day... you're going to thank me for saving your lives."

A thin twig snapped under Nerai's claws. Stray thorns caught on his ironhide scales and broke under their cruel touch, his body a violet blur through the wood.

It had been over a year since Nerai had felt the sun's embrace. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed the wind in his hair, the chittering of harmless birds in the treetops. It reminded him of his old backyard; that calming, eerie monotony of the suburban lawn.

One clawed foot trotted in front of the other, careening over decaying detritus and browned leaves, as Nerai ran between the myriad trees. That familiar burn in the dragon's thighs had been replaced by an eerie euphoria, as if ichor flowed through his veins. His breaths remained slow, his flesh dry, even as he bounded through miles of dirt.

In time, the dragon had eclipsed the upward slope of the land. He stopped for a moment atop the rocky hillside, instinctually wiped his forehead, his eyes scanning the clustered horizon. His newfound lack of sweat made him feel... alien, somehow.

Nerai frowned at the realization, then unpacked a pair of binoculars. He silently placed the lenses to his eyes, gazed out over the miles and miles of rolling trees. Budding leaves poked from every bough, forming a dense tree cover atop a rusted brown carpet of damp mycelium. His gaze, however, focused on a lone golden speck, just atop the tree line - the brilliant leaves of a yggdrasil sapling.

The dragon sighed, lowered the binoculars. His head swiveled anxiously around the environs, but stuck on nothing in particular. Everything was calm, harmless. Part of him expected a mutant spider to emerge from the brush, or a rogue demon to spring from behind a tree trunk. And yet, nothing came. No rustling, no footsteps, no rogue disembodied laughter.

Nerai shook his head, trying to shake off that annoying, persistent tension. It rolled over his shoulders, nested in his spine, and infiltrated his clenched fists. Danger lurked around every corner in Hell. But even as he left that place, taking off across this quiet sunkissed land, that paranoia didn't fade.

"Fuck," Nerai mumbled. His voice was drowned out between the trees. "Fuck, this is... too much."

He then trudged onward, slowing himself to a leisurely pace. A hum sang from his lips, fragments of a half-remembered tune - Soldier Boy, by The Shirelles. The occasional spider web stuck to his face as he paced. Chubby chipmunks stuffed themselves half-rotted acorns beneath his feet.

A pang of sadness rang throughout his chest amidst the idle chirping of birds - these were Nerai's first steps into Canada. Not through a border checkpoint, or in a car, or in a plane. No, no. He traveled alone through untrodden, cold woodlands. Comfort seemed to elude him nowadays.

Comfort. That word struck a chord within Nerai; and for just a moment, he remembered his old apartment. He remembered that nostalgic taste of ramen, the familiar smell of mold. It was a horrible place, but it was still his home. He would spend his nights there cuddled against his cheap radiator, snuggling a tattered plush, as he drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

Just once, Nerai had visited that apartment after committing to his apprenticeship. His door was boarded up, his possessions seized. Such a loss would've devastated him in the past. But he was free now - from human tedium, from hunger, from petty jobs...

Nerai pouted. He used to be a magician. Fuck, how many minimum wage jobs did he wade through before settling on that? A slurry of faces clogged his cerebrum - old coworkers, bosses, family - and rolled off his shoulders. It all hardly mattered anymore. As far as the world was concerned, Nerai died a small-time childrens' magician. His last performance netted him two hundred dollars.

A sad chuckle resounded from Nerai's lips. Damn, his disappearance would likely mystify folks for decades. He could already picture a half-rate podcast describing his story: amateur magician, history of depression, gone missing without a trace. Nobody would guess that he'd sunk beneath the yggdrasil's sap.

The sudden rustle of leaves snapped Nerai from his daydream. He recognized that signature shambling of a quadruped among the detritus - timid, soft, yet close. Something was stalking him.

Nerai snapped his head toward the source, adapting a fighting stance. Like a predator on the hunt, his claws hovered outstretched before him, his eyes fierce, as he watched the branches of a nearby bush rustle. And slowly, tentatively, a grey snout poked from within the cloud of tiny leaves, accompanied by two glistening eyes - a wolf.

Nerai froze, gritted his teeth. He had never seen a wolf in-person before. Every muscle in his body pleaded with him to run, to divert the beast's attention - that vestigial mortal fear made manifest. Yet Nerai begrudgingly resisted those urges, forcing himself to stand down. Bated breath once more filled his quivering chest as his claws curled into tight fists and returned to his sides.

Despite its grizzly appearance, the puny wolf posed no danger to Nerai. The boy's scales were as hard as steel, his grip ironclad. He could break the animal's neck with a flex of his wrist; and if necessary, he would do so. Of course, most demons would smite the beast for the mere offense of showing its face... but Nerai couldn't bring himself to do the same.

And so the two beasts stared at each other, assessing each others' intentions. The animal did not seem threatened, but rather confused at Nerai's intrusion; not even the faintest snarl rose to its maw. Its wet nose twitched as it studied Nerai's scent, its movements slow. Its wide paws then tentatively stepped into the light.

"Woah, woah. I don't want to hurt you," Nerai cooed. "Don't come any closer. I don't want anything to do with you."

But alas, the animal didn't listen. It crept closer, closer, until even its drooping tail slid from beneath the underbrush. Nerai could see its entire body now - bold, magnificent, covered in thick sinews and beautiful fur.

As it emerged from the shadowy bush, however, its demeanor proved pitiable. Its ears tucked feebly against its head, its head hung low, its ribs visible. Nerai craned his head around the beast's side, only to notice a thick smear of blood against its hind leg.

"Oh, fuck," Nerai muttered, and dropped to one knee. "You're hurt."

The wolf simply stared. A small whine fell from its lips, a show of utter submission - it was suffering from acute blood loss. The animal was in no state to attack anything, let alone a demon.

Nerai sighed, looked around at the woods. He didn't have time to console a wounded animal - a responsible demon would leave the animal alone, pretending never to have seen it, and go on with his duties. The wolf surely wouldn't give chase, after all. Nerai was safe. He should just... leave.

...But of course, Nerai found himself kneeling before the beast anyway. The dragon cursed at himself as he outstretched his palms toward the beast, motioning it closer. A nervous smile stretched across his face as he realized how stupid he was.

"Come on," he cooed. "I'm not gonna hurt you, bud. I just wanna see you."

An uneasy silence pervaded the wood as Nerai awaited a response from the pathetic animal. Its dazed, hazy eyes seemed to look through him; and slowly, begrudgingly, it moved toward Nerai, inspecting that signature smoky scent which pervaded the demon's form.

"Good boy," Nerai said. "Good boy. C'mon. Gently, now. A little more."

And gradually, terrifyingly, the wolf's fur glided against Nerai's palms. The wolf seemed to embrace Nerai's grasp - craving his warmth, some semblance of care, amidst its imminent death. Nerai gently held the wolf's cheeks between his claws, taking care not to scratch at the beast's flesh. For just a moment, their gazes met - and there was a sense of understanding there. Something primal, fundamental.

Nerai's heart skipped a beat. "Good," he cooed. "Good boy. Now, I need to see your leg-"

Then, silence. Terrible, sadistic silence. A flash of light, a burst of crimson gore. Blood splattered against Nerai's face like grotesque fireworks, singed with the heat of a bullet, as fragments of the wolf's skull pelted against his chest. The force flung him onto his ass, his horns skidding along the cold ground, as he stared in horror at a collapsing pile of molten viscera. The wolf's decapitated body flopped to the side, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, its fur falling onto the blood-coated ground with a soft thud. It was all so sudden; Nerai couldn't even scream. He instead stared at the still-bleeding corpse, his jaw slack, as a scratchy voice called out from behind:

"You should be more careful. He almost got you."

Nerai couldn't move; every bodily impulse was reduced to a pathetic tremor. Gunfire rang in his ears, that bloody, spurting pile of meat and fur burning his tear-filled eyes. Vomit churned in Nerai's stomach, harsh acid lingering in the back of his throat.

A firm hand then fell onto Nerai's back, gave him a quick pat. Nerai recoiled from its coarse touch and turned to see a dark silhouette, obscured by the sun to its back. The form outstretched its hand, a stainless white glove. Its counterpart gripped a shotgun, its warm barrel carefully pointed toward the ground.

"Woah there, buddy. Did it getcha?" he asked.

Nerai wiped his maw, squinted at the figure. His lips quivered, then went slack as he gazed down at his bloody torso. Fuck, he was drenched.

The figure then retracted his hand, placed it on his hip with a tired grunt. "Really scared you that bad, huh?" he asked.

Nerai's stomach churned. "N-no," he breathed.

"Then you better get up, son," the man said, and beckoned toward himself. "We got work to do."

Nerai nodded. He shakily pressed his palms against the ground and brought himself to his feet, wiping the tears from his eyes with a small sniffle.

The man's appearance thus became clearer - he was tall, light-skinned. A mop of blond hair cascaded down onto his shoulders, down the back of his thick brown trench coat. His faded slacks, covered in patches and mud, betrayed years of wear.

"I assume you're Nerai?" the man asked.

Nerai nodded, cleared his throat. "Yeah," he replied. His ears still rang. "Are you my...client?"

The human smiled. "I am. Steven Sofer, in the flesh," he announced. He then smacked his lips, snuck a condescending glance at the short dragon. "No offense, Nerai, but I didn't expect them to send someone so... green under the gills."

Nerai frowned, wiped blood from his face. He said, "I don't see how that's your business. I work just as hard as any demon."

Steven smirked. "And does that work involve getting mauled by wolves?" he asked, then mustered a laugh. "I'm just joking, kid. Don't take it personally."

The dragon huffed, shook some blood from his clothes. "That wolf wasn't even attacking me, you know," he spat, withholding the desire to sob. "It was harmless! It was injured. And now I'm covered in it!"

The human raised an eyebrow. He said, "It's just a wolf, kid. No need to get sentimental."

"I..." Nerai shook his head, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Whatever. Let's just... find the yggdrasil."

Steven revealed a cigarette from his pocket, motioned toward the woods. "Well, it isn't far. We'll get you cleaned up soon enough, don't worry."

"Right." Nerai then took a deep breath, looking in the direction of the yggdrasil. His gaze flitted over the wolf's body, his nostrils filled with the scent of its blood. "Let's just get this over with."

"Gladly." Steven then sighed and added, "Sorry about the mess."

The pair then set off across the damp ground, walking at a leisurely pace. Steven kept a cigarette anchored between his lips; smoke trailed from his mouth and nose like a chimney, the occasional cough interrupting their silence.

"So... is this your first soul?" Steven asked.

Nerai shrugged, sniffled. "Yeah," he admitted.

"I could tell." Steven took a long drag, then exhaled a steady cloud of smoke. "Well, I'm glad I can serve as your first, then."

The dragon huffed. "Fine, whatever," he pouted, then shot an errant glance at the human. Steven seemed calm, collected. Hell, he seemed happy.

Nerai asked, "How are you so... calm?"

"Hm?"

Nerai scoffed and asked, "Why are you so calm?"

Steven smirked. He asked, "Why are you so curious?"

"Just tell me or don't."

Steven rolled his eyes. He said, "This will be my last ever conversation, kid. I'm eager to explain myself. But I'd like to know why you're so curious."

A brief pause. Nerai then replied, "I just don't really... get it. Why you're doing this."

Steven laughed in disbelief. His cigarette nearly flew from his mouth. "Wow," he spat. "You really are new."

"I guess so."

"Look," Steven explained, thoroughly amused. "I don't mean to condescend, but you really don't know your bosses."

"I... it's hard to ask them questions directly," Nerai said. "And the people I would usually ask for advice are... well, they don't want to talk to me."

Steven sighed. He said, "Well, if you really want to know why I'm doing this... it's for my family." Pain flashed across his face. "They're gonna be rich when this is over."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Steven sniffled, wiped fluid from his nose. "The Council's gonna give them everything they could ever need... college fund, mortgage payments, all of it. Everything they'll ever need." He laughed. "Except a father, I suppose. But the Council will give them more than I could."

Nerai furrowed his brow. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I... guess."

"Doesn't hurt that I'll be in paradise, too," Steven added. "An existence of pure pleasure... until my soul burns out, I suppose." He laughed. "Let's hope it's not too soon, hm? I wanna be able to have a couple beers before my soul's sapped."

Nerai mustered a fake smile. "Well, souls are pretty strong," he said. "I don't think it'll burn out too quickly."

"Right." Steven took a long drag, gazed into the wood. "I already know what my paradise is gonna look like." He then outstretched his hand, as if envisioning it. "It's gonna be a tropical island - a private one, just for me. There's gonna be a bar, right there on the beach, and it's gonna be warm. All the time, it's gonna be warm."

Nerai laughed. "I'm from a pretty warm place myself," he quipped. "You would love Hell."

"Maybe," Steven replied. "But ideally, I'd like to sleep on a hammock. And I'm not in the mood to deal with hell bats. Or those creepy-crawlies that prowl the woods. They'd probably eat me in my sleep."

"Ohhhh. I know what you're talking about," Nerai said, and flicked dry blood off of his claws. "There's this group of crows that sits on my roof every night. There are, like, twenty of them."

"They loud?"

"Oh my god," Nerai pouted. "They're louder than... than anything. It's so annoying. I can barely sleep sometimes."

Steven smiled. "I heard about those before," he said. "I made a contract with a lust demon a while ago - he used to bitch about them all the time. 'Damn crows. Can't get them to shut the hell up.' It was hilarious watching this demon, this almighty demon, gripe on about some birds."

"The birds are big," Nerai said. "They're like pterodactyls - troublesome even for demons to handle."

"Shouldn't have been for the one I knew," Steven replied. "The one I knew was... well, he could control reality. He'd make a pocket dimension like it was nothing." The man then smiled, as if remembering something pleasant. "His name was Francis. But that was... thirty years ago now."

Nerai's jaw dropped. "Francis?" he repeated. "I know Francis."

"No shit?"

"No shit!" Nerai exclaimed. "He runs a restaurant now. Like, a huge, reality-bending restaurant. It's super popular. And he - uh, he used to date one of my mistresses."

Steven removed the cigarette from his mouth, allowing the smoke to leak past his lips. "Jesus," he said. "I never would've thought he'd make something of himself. Something positive, I mean. But I... I'm glad to hear it."

Nerai nodded. "Yeah," he said. "The dude seems a little creepy, but... well, he makes people happy. He can't be all bad."

"What lust demon isn't a little creepy?" Steven quipped, then turned to Nerai. "Thanks for telling me about all this. It's a little bit of closure I didn't know I needed."

"Yeah... of course."

Steven then coughed, paused among the wood. He pointed through the tree trunks, tilted his head. "Looks like we're almost there," he said. "The yggdrasil."

And alas, Steven was right. In only a few minutes, the couple stood before the gargantuan trunk of the yggdrasil. Pitch-black sap leaked from behind its steely bark; yellow, spindling leaves coated the ground in its wake, like a living colossus. The ground was gummy in its environs, soaked with sticky syrup, and stuck to Nerai's soles. A large pool of sap pooled under its trunk. That signature smell of tar hung in the air.

"I've never seen a yggdrasil so close," Steven said, and stepped toward its bark. Light scattered through the leaves onto his upturned face. It ran along his scars, his pores, like water, and dissipated. "It's beautiful."

Nerai nodded. He said, "It is. This one is small, though; the one in Hell is three times as big."

The pair then walked over to the pool of sap. For just a moment, they both stared into the inky blackness - not even a reflection stared back. Infinite darkness. A small gurgle emerged from its mouth.

"There's a bigger tree?" Steven asked. He then removed the cigarette from his mouth, stubbed it under his boot. "Is it beautiful?"

"It... is. It glows - these amazing shades of neon blue and violet. Pure energy, pure souls, coursing through its veins. Its leaves are pitch black, its wood oozes with lifeblood. And pools and pools of sap surround it, and we slide in and out of them like bees through a hive."

"What does it smell like?"

"Mud," Nerai replied. "And tar. But there's a certain sweetness to it - like lead gas. It goes inside you and hollows you out, and leaves you feeling light as a feather."

"What does the sap feel like?"

"Air. It's like falling through air. Kinda like quicksand - sticky at first, but then it just... opens up. And swallows you. And then you're gone."

Steven's eyes were glassy. He asked, "Do you ever miss earth?"

"I do," Nerai replied, and paused. "I miss my old apartment, and I miss my old friends. I miss...everything. Even when I know I shouldn't."

Silence. Birds chirped in the yggdrasil's leaves. Squirrels crawled among its branches. Their babies cried for food from inside the knotted wood.

"Are you scared?" Nerai asked.

Tears welled in Steven's eyes."I'm terrified," he replied.

Nerai didn't know what to say. He grasped Steven's hand, met his gaze. A faint smile rose to his face.

"It's okay to be scared," he said.

Steven was silent for a moment. He then shook his head, wiped his face. "Thank you for talking to me, Nerai. You're a kind soul."

"Of course," Nerai replied. "I'll... see you again one day."

Steven sighed, stared into the pool. There was a tenderness in his eyes; a mix of exhaustion and acceptance.

"Nerai... we won't see each other again."

Nerai nodded, his voice low. "I know."

"But... I'm happy to have met you." And amidst the din of the forest, Steven brought the dragon into his warm embrace. His tears wetted Nerai's bloodstained vest, his arms were wracked with shivers, his gun dropped onto the forest floor. For just a moment, the sun shone upon them like a spotlight, warming their bloody, entwined bodies.

Steven then separated himself, faced the portal. He took a deep breath.

"Goodbye, Nerai."

And in one surreal motion, Steven stepped into the pool of sap. Nerai watched as the shadows swiftly devoured him, lapping at his flesh like a rabid animal. First at his feet, then his shins, then his waist, until he could only spare one last glance at the bright sky, at Nerai's face. Steven smiled, gasped; and then, he was gone. As if he never existed at all.

And so Nerai stood, listening to the idle birdsongs.

He'd taken his first soul.