Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

Cryptic Errands

The students stepped out onto the streets of the capital, their eyes widening in delight. Professor Milton had informed them that their luggage was being moved to the hotel and had given them free range to look around the city for a while. He'd been adamant however, that if he caught word of the academy's students causing trouble, these 'freedoms' (as he called them) would be immediately revoked.

"There's so much to do here," Wheeler gaped, glancing excitedly between Mulock and Priscilla. "Where should we go first?"

"Actually," Priscilla said slowly. "My brother is an imperial magician, so he's been living here since his graduation last year. I was planning to meet up with him for lunch since we'll be too busy once exams start."

Wheeler grinned. "Oh, that sounds fun!"

"Yeah," Priscilla murmured. "I wrote to him that I was coming, but I never heard back so...um...I guess I'll just have to show up at his office." She glanced into the store window across from them, using the reflection to adjust the massive pink bow in her hair. "I'm sure you'd really like him. Everyone does. He's perfect Peter Packwood after all."

"Wow," Mulock said dryly. "Your family really decided to put all their eggs into the alliteration basket. I'm sure no one ever finds that annoying."

Priscilla glared at him. "Don't you ever get tired of being a constant dick?"

"Not really."

"Well then," Priscilla said, straightening her skirt. "I should probably find Peter before it gets too late." She grinned, sticking her tongue out at Mulock. "Try not to study yourselves to death while I'm gone, dweebs."

"Oh, haha." The demon's eyes narrowed. "We'll see who's laughing when you fail your exam."

"Neeeeeeeeerd," Priscilla dragged out the word, snickering profusely as she skipped away.

"Brat," Mulock called after her with a huff.

When she was finally gone, the demon sighed, turning to Wheeler. "Well, since we only have a few hours, should we just get the headmistress's incredibly cryptic errand out of the way?"

Wheeler nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea." The boy fumbled through one of his coat's many pockets, finally removing the now crumpled piece of paper. "Um...it says it's the seventh shop on Langlet Street. Look for Yureka."

"Great. Because that's not vague at all," Mulock grumbled.

"Yeah," Wheeler said, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe we should ask someone for directions?"

"No need. I can probably figure it out," Mulock said, glancing around them. "The city has changed a lot since I died, but if I recall correctly... Langlet Street should be this way." And with that, the demon immediately started walking, causing Wheeler to awkwardly scramble to follow.

"So, you've been to the capital before?" Wheeler asked as they walked.

"Yeah," Mulock replied, not even glancing at him. "I lived here my entire life."

"Really?" Wheeler gasped. "Is it weird being back after so long?"

"A little," the demon murmured. "Everything looks different. Gentrification really did a number on this place."

Wheeler's face fell. "Oh, I'm sorry. It must be hard having the place you grew up in completely change."

"I didn't exactly have the fondest memories here, so I don't mind," Mulock answered flatly.

Wheeler glanced down at his feet. "Still, you must have had at least a few, right?"

The demon thought for a moment. "I suppose. There was a bakery a few streets from here that made amazing sweet bread. Around the palace garden was a massive lake and you could always take a loaf there and feed the ducks."

"I never pictured you as a duck feeding kind of person," Wheeler said with a grin.

"Well, I suppose I was quite different back then," Mulock replied, his gaze far away, lost in the memory. "Oh, and there used to be a massive week-long festival every spring in the streets. Everyone would hang garlands from their windows and drink all night. We were never supposed to go, but Joseph and I would always sneak out and..." he stopped, his expression hardening. "Well, it doesn't really matter now. It's all gone anyways."

The look on Mulock's face made Wheeler's heart sink, and he wished he could buy him a thousand loaves of that bread if it would just make him happy again. But...the demon was right. The world was different now.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. After awhile, Wheeler started to notice the streets beginning to narrow, the marble turning into rough cobblestone. Despite it being daylight, the city felt like it was growing darker as they slipped into an alleyway.

When they finally emerged, before them stood a line of shops that appeared older than anything else in the city. The glass in the windows looked almost brown due to the dust and grime covering them. Strange items were stacked high from behind the window panes. Shadowy shapes moved within a rusted iron cage in one window, a pile of books appeared to be breathing in another, and in the one beside that was only a single, silver encrusted bone.

Wheeler shivered. Everything felt too close together, like the buildings longed to crush him between them. He knew it should be impossible, but the air seemed cold and oddly...heavier than it had been before they'd entered the small array of shops.

A large sign dangled before them, the paint peeling off the rotting wood which read 'Langlet Street.'

"Well," Mulock mused, "at least this place is still creepy as ever."

Wheeler swallowed hard, his gaze falling on a looming building with the words 'Yureka's Prophecies, Readings, and Séances' etched above the door.

Unlike the other shops, this one had absolutely no windows.

"Wheeler," Mulock said slowly. "If this woman ends up murdering us, I blame you."

"What?" Wheeler gaped. "Why?!"

"Because it's your fault we're even here."

"My fault? How is it my fault?"

"You accepted the headmistress's creepy errand."

"What else was I supposed to do?!" Wheeler argued.

"That's a tricky one," Mulock replied, eyes narrowing. "Hmm, let me think. How about just saying...no."

Wheeler buried his face in his hands. "I have social anxiety," he mumbled. "Saying that is like...a hundred times worse than just getting murdered--"

That's when the building's door suddenly creaked open.

Wheeler and Mulock both froze, their gazes' snapping to a bony white hand as it peaked out from the crack. The hand extended one finger, beckoning them to enter.

Boy and demon both exchanged a long glance.

"Hey Wheeler?" Mulock finally said.

"Yeah?"

"If she tries to eat us, can we at least agree Mister Pumpernickel should be the first to go?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"Well," the demon said with a shrug, "it was worth a try."

And with that, they approached the shop.