The Arcanist’s Tongue (First Update)

"You came looking for me for the first time in all these years just to see Mother?" Damon Hellstrom lowered his eyes, refusing to look at his sister seated across from him. "What made you suddenly become such a dutiful daughter?"

Damon pretended to lower his head and sample the food at the family restaurant, but in truth, he desperately wanted to leave. The leather booth made him terribly uncomfortable. But he could not do that. He had his reasons for accepting his sister’s invitation to meet.

"I remember you selling those antiques of questionable origin in San Francisco," he said. "Now that you have money, are you planning to enjoy having a family? I suggest you find yourself a boyfriend. If I remember correctly, you only care about yourself—let’s hope the poor bastard can put up with your temper."

"And what about you, Damon?" Anna said with a cold laugh. "An ethics professor helping the Church perform exorcisms in his spare time? I never thought you were so devout, that you didn’t even hate your own abilities. My dear brother, do you get along well with Mother? Or do you think that demon is not so bad either?"

"You said last time that you would never set foot in Portland again. And yet?"

"That’s because I couldn’t stand that bossy attending physician at Saint Teresa! What was her name again, Dr. Hastings? If she could keep those thick, moist lips away from me, maybe I could listen to what she had to say! Oh? Psychological trauma, based on a few crayon drawings? Maybe you shouldn’t get mad at me. How did that saying go—’If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times turns again, saying, I repent, you should forgive him’—I’m ready to offend you properly, Damon."

"Dr. Hastings cares about you. So do I." Damon drew a deep breath and set down the fork he had been fiddling with. "Listen, Anna, I didn’t come here to fight with you. I didn’t mean to make you angry, I really didn’t. Forgive me. These past few days… something happened at Saint Teresa. Mother… or rather, that demon. It put something into the minds of several orderlies. A guard died. I’m sorry, Anna, I really…"

Anna shrugged, looking helpless. "I know you didn’t mean it. You even ordered a cookie sandwich. That was just something I liked as a child. My tastes have changed now, but… thank you for coming to see me, Brother." The tense atmosphere between the siblings vanished at once, and Damon seemed much more relaxed.

"Next time, I’ll reply to your messages." Anna looked through the display window at the cars passing through the night. "You can text me on holidays. Not normally, though. I’m busy with work."

"Mother’s condition is terrible. That demon has already taken control of her." After a pause, Damon raised his head and looked into his sister’s eyes. Warm yellow light melted in her narrow eyes, revealing a trace of longing. He smelled the past again—the warmth of family before everything happened. There had not been much of it, but it was enough for him to miss.

"But we expected this, didn’t we?" he asked quietly, his tone much gentler than before. "Did you find something out? To be honest, something strange has been happening in my life too. Before this, I vaguely felt as though someone was watching me. That demon left some sort of symbol on the wall. It happened only a few days ago, and I…"

"No, nothing has happened to me." Anna frowned. She recalled what Salomon had called her, a name that did not belong to her—Satana. Even now, Anna still had some doubts about Salomon, because this mage seemed to know some deeply hidden, important things. Anna suspected those things had something to do with her mother.

"I came to you only because I met someone," she said. "Maybe he can deal with that thing… God, Damon, look at your expression. Do you think we’re the only gifted people in the world? Aliens have come to New York, billionaires and Asgardian gods are flying around in the sky, and an elderly American idol who slept in a block of ice for seventy years came back to life. What is impossible anymore? A wizard suddenly appearing is perfectly normal, isn’t it?"

Damon raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I’m more inclined to think it’s a superpower. Fine, fine. Let me ask you this: do you trust him?"

"To some extent. I’ve dealt with him. He’s powerful. He can take me from the United States to Italy in an instant."

"I noticed the ‘he.’"

"It’s not as complicated as you think, Damon." Anna could not help laughing. "He’s still underage. Though it’s cute when he pretends to be an adult, I don’t like boys younger than me. The reason he approached me is because he has a conflict with that thing. One of them has to die."

"Then let’s give it a try," Damon said. "But you have to promise me that I’ll accompany you the entire time."

Anna agreed. She did not think Salomon would refuse the proposal.

"God, I can hardly imagine how awful this place is." Salomon stood beside Anna, trying to keep his voice low. Before them stood a gray, spired building that looked like a Quaker church. Even from a distance, its oppressive atmosphere could be felt.

"Why do you say that?" Anna studied Salomon’s clothes. The deep crimson Red Shroud kept drawing her gaze. No matter what she did, she could not look away. She felt that the garment held some kind of magic. "Don’t you have any other clothes?" she asked. "You were already wearing that when you met me."

"This is my robe, not some shirt." The Arcanist curled his lip. "By the way, this place is called Saint Teresa? Named after a nun who could bring herself to orgasm through faith—it’s not hard to imagine how stupid the people here are. Did I say stupid? Sorry, I meant devout. I often get those two confused, since they’re essentially the same thing. In fact, Saint Teresa may have been a natural-born witch who went mad because her talent was not properly guided.

"In the past, girls like her could have been educated in temples and become priestesses of the gods. Note that when I say the past, I mean before the first century AD. Later on, girls like that either wandered villages raving madly and uttering prophecies no one could understand, or were carried into barns by a few farmers and gave birth to little bastards with no known father;

"Of course, the more likely possibility is that Saint Teresa simply ate dark bread made from rye infected with ergot. We all know how common ergot was in the Middle Ages. Maybe Saint Teresa was a woman who took LSD for a long time. It’s as stupid as the apparition of the Virgin Mary at Fatima."

"But Bernini’s sculpture was excellent." Anna rolled her eyes. It was her first time experiencing the Arcanist’s vicious tongue when it came to religion. "Also, shouldn’t you be comparing this to the Salem Witch Trials?"

"That’s right, Giovanni truly was a master. He was the foremost figure in Baroque art, but his later portraits already lacked innovation. He went further and further into religious subjects, and the signs of formulaic work were obvious. Perhaps it was because he became increasingly devout in his later years." The Arcanist raised an eyebrow at Anna and tapped his toes, trying to shake the mud spots from his short boots.

"Besides, what happened in Salem was real. I was there."

"I don’t think we came here to discuss Renaissance art and Puritans." A bearded man emerged from the main entrance, eyeing the Arcanist suspiciously from head to toe. "I’m Damon Hellstrom." He held out his hand. "Welcome, Salomon Damonet. Anna told me about you. I’m starting to believe your identity now. Otherwise, no one would wear so many rings. Oh, Anna…" He turned to his sister. "Dr. Hastings wants to see you."

"Hopefully she won’t make me draw crayon pictures this time."

"Black rappers wear a lot of rings too, but that proves nothing." Salomon shook Damon’s hand. "You can observe my working process from the side. Don’t worry, I’m not like those priests who make four percent of the Catholic Church’s total income from exorcisms."

"My ability has no effect on that thing." Damon looked into Salomon’s eyes. "I hope you can help her get rid of it."

"I hope so too, because it’s class time right now. I took leave, but if we move quickly, I can still make it to my next class."

Was that a little too vicious? Felt like I was about to offend some more people.