Mirael awoke feeling as if she had not slept a wink. It was freezing in her room and the only thing in the world that she wanted at that moment was to go back to sleep, but the knocking on her door would not allow it.
     "Mira," Jacob called from outside the door. "I know you're awake. Open the door. The sooner we can get going the better."
     "I'll be ready soon," She yelled back through the door.
     "I'll be waiting at the stables with the horses when you are ready." His voice was fading as he spoke. no doubt too excited to even finish his sentence before running off to the stables.
     Despite her drowsy mood, she was excited as well. Nervous, but excited. She'd never seen a demon before. She had read volumes and volumes of books on them, heard countless stories, seen hundreds of pictures, but actually seeing one up close chilled her to the bone. She told herself she was ready, and dragged herself out of bed. Today was going to be a good day.

     Four days of hard riding, dried meat and sleeping on the ground later, she was beginning to realize just how unprepared she was. She'd ridden on horseback since she was a small child, but never for such long stretches of time. Her hindquarters felt as if she had fallen on a very hard rock and her spine was tied in knots. It was with great relief that they came across the first small town. An inn with a soft bed, a hot bath and a warm meal would be very welcome.
     Jacob did not seem to feel the fatigue. His posture never slouched when riding. He would go to sleep after her and he was always awake before her. She wondered if he even slept at all. Where did he find the energy?
     Still, she noticed a slight sigh of relief when they rode up to the inn. Jacob tended to the horses while she went looking for the innkeeper. He was a short man, barely taller than Mirael, With red dark black hair gracing only the sides of his head and a nose that looked as if it had been broken a half dozen times.
     "Good evening, Mistress," He said, his voice deep and gravelly. "Always a pleasure to 'ave a mage at the ol' Dragon's Den. She's a small in, but the beds are soft, the hearths are warm, and the ale is stout. Would the Mistress care for a pint?"
     "Perhaps another time," She said politely. "A hot mean for my brother and I would be lovely, though."
     "Say no more, Mistress. Sit wherever ye' like and I'll have it to you quicker than you can spit." He looked embarassed at having said that. "Not that ye'd spit, Mistress. Beggin' yer pardon." She smiles at him and he walked away muttering to himself.
     She found an empty table in a dark corner by the bar. The room was quiet and mostly empty. So quiet, in fact, that she could hear the two rough looking, heavily drunken men two tables across from her clear as if she were sitting next to them.
     "That's not what I heard," Said the man with long brown hair hanging past his shoulders and a scar the size of her finger across his right cheek. "I hear it's far worse than that. I heard the bodies wasn't only half eaten, but burned to a crisp like bacon."
     "Oh goat farts!" exclaimed the other man, much heavier than the first, and with hair cropped short above his ears. "No animal cooks his meals 'fore it eats 'em"
     "Not an animal," The long haired man said in what he thought was a whisper, but was barely any quieter than he was speaking before, "a demon. A real nasty one, too, by the sound of it. They say the monster's already killed a dozen or more. No one goes in the forest now. Not even the healers looking for herbs."
     "So the demon cooked 'em 'fore he ate 'em? I say it weren't no demon. I say it were a man. Some sadistic prick with a taste for human flesh."
     "Whatever it is, I'm sure the order will--"
     "A hot meal, for the mistress and her companion," The innkeeper interrupted her evesdropping, setting two plates down on the table in front of her. "Would ye' be needing one room or two?"
     "One room should suffice, Mr...?"
     "The name's Tavon, Mistress. I'll have a room ready for ye' quicker than you ca--quickly," He said, his face reddening. No doubt he was about to say something crude.
     "Thank you, Tavon, My name is Mirael, and my brother Jacob and I thank you for your hospitality." He bowed awkwardly and hurried off just as Jacob walked through the door. The two men that she had been listening to had changed their subject to the bosoms of the tavern maid that was running the bar. She had to admit, they were conversation worthy.
     "Jacob, I've been thinking," She said in an actual whisper, one quiet enough that only the two of them could hear it. "What if this demon isn't just a Dietra. What if it's worse, much worse.?"
     "The order does not make mistakes often." Jacob was as devout a disciple of the order as anyone she knew. It was almost annoying sometimes.
    "Yes, but not often does not mean never. Those men were talking about burned, half eaten bodies and a Dietra would not burn a body."
     "Rumors, nothing more. People talk and stories spread. A dog becomes a wolf becomes a hellhound. Still, we will not go into this lightly. Even a Dietra can be very dangerous. We will find out more when we reach Imadra. Now eat and get some rest. Enjoy the comfort while you can. We will be leaving first light tomorrow.
     She did not bring it up again that night, but she could not shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong with this assignment.