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I traveled alone to meet a Demon.

Of course, being alone now was no different than usual. I preferred my solitude, often being overwhelmed by the Auras of the surrounding people. There was a sense of wanting companionship or even to belong to something--a family, or maybe a culture--but even when I was around people, I was alone anyway. It was better to be honestly alone than to deceive myself into thinking I was surrounded by people who cared.

What I was more focused on wasn't finding people, but finding a purpose. The world was a vast, confusing place, and I had only ever seen a small portion of it, moving exclusively about the (mostly) Human nation of Lurenark. I had received an education from the University of Belaphune, focusing on history and preservation, but this was all theoretical knowledge funded by the loins of lonely women. I hadn't actually seen anything--not even my own people, the Phaedrani.

Therein resided another problem: despite qualifications, no Human would hire me to work in their libraries or museums. Even if certain people had niche cravings to keep them warm at night, no institution in Lurenark would want a creature like me working for them, especially in client-facing positions. My massive multiple eyes, my articulated fangs, and my six arms were enough to send Humans screaming.

So it was time I left the only country I knew to find the Temple of Phaedra.

Phaedra, the Demon Queen of Creation, Fate, and Knowledge, was the mother of my people. I had never spoken with her, as most people do not spend a lot of time talking to deities, Celestial or Demonic, but the night before my graduation, I had a strange dream that made me rethink spirituality and my future.

I was trudging through knee-high snow--which, in all honesty, was probably not that much snow, considering how short I was--following a small parade of spiders. Though this likely would've been considered a nightmare for most people, I felt at ease. After all, Phaedrani were often referred to as Spiderfolk. We shared a kinship and an understanding.

The spiders led me to the woods, then a decrepit building within it, far from civilization. Cold and curious, I eased my way inside with the small army of spiders. When I opened the door, it ended up being an abandoned Temple to Phaedra. After exploring for a while, the Demon Herself manifested within it, then wordlessly handed me a stack of illegible books covered in symbols I had never seen before. As I held them, running my fingers over the sigils to try to decipher them, the Temple disappeared.

The interior of the building became a bustling library, with people of all races reading and studying on cozy couches and tables near fireplaces. Snow fell gently outside the windows. Though there were many people, it was a comfortable scene, like a visual embrace. When I returned to the main room, I saw a Hyenafolk woman sitting at the front desk. She lifted her blue eyes to look at me and smiled, but I awakened before I could respond.

I wrote down my dream immediately, thinking it held some sort of significance, and went to one of the professors of Oneiromancy. It was she who suggested seeing a Temple of Phaedra, as it seemed to be a message from the Queen herself.

I wasn't sure how much faith I had in Phaedra. Had anyone been there during my youth to see how I had been forced to live--especially the mother of my kind--perhaps I would've been a happier person. Even if I was an educated woman now and likely about to find success around people who were more open-minded about the Monster races, I felt like a bag full of broken glass carried by a clumsy courier. Jostled just enough, and the shards would cut through the seams, spilling out all I had been hiding inside me for so long.

But I had nothing to lose. Perhaps this was a scenario of "everything happens for a reason." I couldn't imagine my younger years happening for any particular good reason, but I did like how I had been earning my income now as an adult, stigmatized as it was, and I did love working in the history field, even if I wished I was able to see more of the lands I studied. Had I not been forced to suffer as I did when I was a child, I would have never discovered libraries at all.

It was the only silver lining I could find, but perhaps Phaedra had insight I couldn't think of, for I was imprisoned in the mortality of my mind. I couldn't understand the true complexities of the universe, but Lady Liliana transcended mortality and could likely grasp more than I could ever dream of.

I took a public carriage to Grauteterria, the bordering country to the east. It was, by far, the largest country on the continent, and also the most diverse. I always wondered if my upbringing would have been different if I grew up in Grauteterria instead. Though I'd always miss the gloomy greyness, the rocky shores, and the towering pines of Lurenark, I would never miss the people.

Grauteterria, being the sort of nation it was, held temples to all deified creatures, Celestial and Demon alike. In Lurenark, only worship of Gods--powerful entities of Celestial origin-was permitted, though some households--especially those of Monstrous origin--would quietly worship the Demons. In Grauteterria, though, all religions were openly allowed, which meant that Grauteterria held the largest temple to Phaedra on the Surface World.

The real largest one was in the Underground, within the subterranean queendom of my kind, Vredrivala. Despite being Phaedrani, I had never been to Vredrivala, though I dreamed about it as a child. I read as much as I could about the place, mentally escaping to a world where I would be considered normal. In my readings, I had discovered that the Underground nations and queendoms were only available through Portals. Though I knew magic, I didn't trust my ability to conjure a Portal to a land I had never visited, nor was I clear on the directions to the Gateway to Vredrivala in Grauteterria. It felt like my safest bet to see the Temple of Phaedra in Grauteterria instead.

The Temple was in a town in North Grauteterria called Kinallend. According to my research, it had a population of about 500 Humans, but there was a small community of my own kind there as well--mostly ones who manned the Temple. I had exchanged letters with them inquiring about my visit, and they welcomed me with open arms, offering lodging for my stay as well.

I didn't have many belongings with me, but I didn't have many belongings to begin with. All I owned could fit in one trunk; I had no furniture, no riches, just some clothing, books, blankets, and toiletries. The school I had graduated from over the summer had provided furnished housing, but now that my education was complete, I had nothing. I hoped the Temple would have a path for me, as I did not have one of my own. At the very least, perhaps they would offer me temporary shelter.

I awoke at dawn to catch the carriage, which departed from the College in the early hours of the morning. I hadn't actually slept, but I had rested my eyes and laid in bed motionless, which I told myself counted. After boarding, it took about two hours to get to the Grauteterria border. Border control checked our papers and letters without a hitch, and after, it was another few hours before we got to our first stop. I stayed in that town briefly, getting food and rest and hoping I'd catch any sleep before catching the next carriage to Kinallend. Sleep did not come, but the carriage did.

I managed to doze off in the carriage, grateful that the early days of fall were warm enough that I was comfortable on the ride. The driver had to shake me awake when we had finally arrived in Kinallend. Embarrassed, I practically leaped off the carriage, nearly forgetting my trunk. Thankfully, he was kind enough to bring it to me.

Kinallend was small, but sprawling. Civilians lived in homesteads dotting the hills, and a dirt road with a few shops and an inn comprised the town proper. I immediately went to the inn to have a space to put my belongings. As I walked, I noticed a statue of Phaedra in the distance--definitely far from the road and the town, but within a doable walking distance.

But as I walked toward it, I noticed night was falling fast. The violet sky was quickly darkening, and the stars were beginning to peek out from hiding. I remembered being warned in the letter: We are only open until nightfall. If you get to Kinallend late in the evening, it may be best to stay in the local inn the night before. Depending on how things go, we can reimburse your stay.

I did have money saved up from my clients, so I could afford an inn--though I'd never say no to reimbursement. But after realizing it was far too late and the lights had gone out in the Temple, I decided to turn around and head into the local inn regardless.

The innkeeper was Human, which made lipreading easy. I wrote my questions to him on a spare sheet of parchment and a quill on his desk. I was capable of speech; I had grown up among Humans, and learning to speak as they did was a necessity. But since I couldn't hear, it gave them the wrong impression when I spoke. Humans would immediately ignore my deafness and devolve into rapid-fire speech.

I preferred not speaking as it was. It felt more natural, perhaps; the vibrations in my throat and chest were always disorienting even after all these years. With writing, I felt safe. With a voice I could not hear, I felt vulnerable.

In my conversation with the innkeeper, I discovered that I lacked the proper currency in Grauteterria, a gross oversight on my part. He directed me to the bank down the road to exchange my coins, and despite the sky rapidly darkening, it was still open. Once the finances were handled and my room was paid for, he walked me up to it, though I noticed he seemed rather uneasy in my presence. He practically ran down the stairs when I waved my goodbyes.

After a quick meal and--finally--a full night's rest, I awoke to meet my fate at the Temple.

I took a breakfast to eat while I walked--a breakfast sandwich and a cinnamon roll--as the sun was high when I awoke and I worried I'd be too late that day to talk to Phaedra. I knew my kind was made for liquid food, much like actual spiders, but as I lived among Humans, I never got the opportunity to eat as a Phaedrani, save for a few accidents I tried to forget as a child. Humans ate solid foods, and so did I, even if it gave me some stomach distress.

As I walked along the dirt path and chewed carefully beneath my articulated fangs, I watched the Humans milling about the town uneasily, watching for stares. I was used to stares in Lurenark; though there were some Monsters in that country and even at the college I attended, I rarely ran into others of my kind. I hadn't seen any here yet, either, despite the presence of the Temple.

But thankfully, no one stared. They seemed to deliberately try to not look at me. I wasn't sure if that was better.

As I grew closer to the Temple, a new horrifying thought crossed my mind: what if she wouldn't speak with me? What if I, despite my origins leading to her, was somehow unworthy? I was unworthy of everyone else in my life, and Phaedra had done little to help me until now. Why would now suddenly be different?

I had no other leads, save for the dream that brought me here. I had everything to gain. I'd need a backup plan if it failed, though, and I considered asking the innkeeper if he knew of any busy areas in need of specific comforts. I decided I'd cross that bridge when I got to it.

Regardless of what happened, I wasn't going back to Lurenark.

I did my best to push future plans out of my mind; after all, it all hinged upon how this meeting went and what Phaedra had to say.

The Temple was an immaculate space, even on the outside. A cozy cobblestone path, embraced on either side by greenspace, led to the Temple. The yard was framed by spiderweb-covered hedges, one of which being pruned carefully beneath the gossamer sheets by a Temple attendant. The lawn seemed to be trimmed in the form of Phaedra's sigil, but as I stepped closer, I noticed that it was made of moss and not grass, and the moss had simply not grown in those spaces. As I walked the cobblestone path to the front door, I noticed an iron fence guarding a garden full of black roses, maple trees looming over them like a protective orange cloud.

The Temple itself was painted black, as was expected; black was Phaedra's color, after all. Its corners were made of rounded towers with pointed roofs--a structure I knew being referred to as a turret. Ivy tangled with cobwebs climbed the black walls, and as I eyed the windows they reached for, I noticed they were made of stained glass.

I told myself to stop stalling and walk in already, so I eased open the righthand door, feeling that opening both double doors was a little too dramatic.

A Phaedrani immediately greeted me at the door. With the Phaedrani's diminutive size and vibrant fur, he appeared to be male, something I didn't quite expect in a Temple. Though I never grew up with my kind, I knew the Phaedrani were largely matriarchal. Perhaps the rumors were exaggerated.

He was about a head shorter than me--an impressive feat, considering that I wasn't tall to begin with. His six delicate shoulders wore a short black cloak embroidered with Phaedra's sigil on the right breast. It was short enough to reveal black-and-white striped legs similar to my own, though our colors were reversed; my fur was white with black stripes, and his was black with white stripes. His chelicerae, too, were brighter than mine; I knew, logically, that they were green, but my color vision was limited, and to me, they looked yellow. His hair was white, matching his stripes, and messy, standing up in every direction it could as though he had never heard of a hairbrush.

His many hands signed something to me, fingers quick and excitable, but I simply shook my head. In living with Humans, I never learned the speech of my people. I relied on writing exclusively.

The corners of his four teal eyes frowned, and he rummaged around, then pulled out a pen and parchment and wrote, Welcome, Sister. You can't sign?

Only the alphabet of Common, I admitted, feeling shame heating my chest. I wasn't allowed to learn my own as a child, and didn't have the time or ability to properly learn.

It's such a common story, he wrote. Luckily, Phaedra has love in her heart for everyone, and can help you on your path to self-discovery, especially in your natural language.

I wasn't sure what to say to that. He was taking my lack of Phaedrani-ness quite well. I hope she does, was what I managed to write.

The corners of his eyes lifted, a Phaedrani smile. What can I help you with today?_ _

Such a simple question, yet I wasn't sure where to start. After a brief pause, I settled on, I wish to speak with Phaedra. It seems she was contacting me in a dream, and I want to understand what she was saying.

Then you must be Esme? I'm Pietro. My mother's the High Priestess, but she's...indisposed. She told me about exchanging letters with you regarding your dreams and future conversing with Phaedra.

Yes, I am Esme. It's nice to meet you. Is your mother alright?

He made an uncertain gesture with one hand. I'd like to lie and say yes, but the illness has been rather aggressive. I've been taking care of things here for her. He tapped the pen on the parchment. She told me that she told you about offerings. Did you bring them?

The High Priestess had walked me through preparing an adequate offering to converse with Phaedra over letters, and I had followed her instructions meticulously. I brought her favorite insects. I kept ice from the Cryomancers from my College on them to keep them fresh for the journey. I also have a vial filled with my own hemolymph as well as a small donation to the shrine as a thank you for letting me stay.

May I see the offerings?

I nodded and brought forth my satchel. His spare hands rummaged through it, finding three beetles the size of our forearms, a vial of my hemolymph, and a small bag of gold coins. At least I had remembered the proper currency for the offering.

Still holding onto my bag, he wrote, Perfect! It seems you are well prepared. Follow me.

Heart racing, I trailed behind him, seeing where he would lead us.

The building seemed like a relatively modest house on the outside, but it was far larger on the inside. We entered a side room, then traveled down a flight of stairs to what appeared to be a basement. For what felt like ages, we walked down the basement halls, torches igniting every time Isabella took a step past them, as though the flames were greeting Pietro.

And just like that, as I trailed behind Pietro down the ominous hall and through the door to the Ritual Room, I journeyed into my new life. It was as though the Room itself divided my life in half: Before I entered the threshold, and After I passed through it.

The After proved to be far more fascinating, intense, and beautiful than I ever bargained for, and it all made the Before worth it. If only I had known it then.