Saekina is used to waking up covered in blood. Fighting off demons does that to a girl.
She hides in the massive city of Dennin, no stranger to unwanted company. At seventeen, she has never had anyone but herself to rely on. Demons have hunted her since she was a child, her prayers for salvation unanswered. Not even her patron goddess listens. Being alone is easier that risking someone she loves dying. All she needs is her daggers, and hope that her strange powers continue to work.
She meets three others with the same power. And the same demons. For the first time in years she has friends, and she isn't about to let anyone hurt them—demon or not. The four set out to discover the reason they are hunted, scouring the city for answers.
Their search drags them into the middle of a hidden war between the gods. Even worse, Saekina learns her patron goddess—someone who should be protecting her—is the one sending the demons after them, afraid they’ll access the memories from their past lives and with it, the knowledge to defeat her.
Saekina’s blades are ready, but they can’t kill a god. To break free, she must delve into her past and uncover the secret the goddess is so desperate to protect. If she fails, they’ll all be hunted throughout endless reincarnated lives—if she doesn’t learn to annihilate their souls.
Saekina sleep-walked through life: wake up, hop the tram to the closest bounty hunter office, find a target, spy, sell the info, and hopefully have enough money to eat more than one meal. If she spoke to anyone, it was work related or a polite hello to a merchant.
Same shit, different day.
After tonight, she’d have enough money to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner for days. The bounty hunters will fight over this info.
Saekina crept toward a dented door hidden in the filth. The lone light orb illuminated the alley, not that there was anything worth seeing. The dumpsters overflowed with rotting food and used magical charms.
She brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. Even at this time of night, the heat clung to her skin, creating a layer of sweat. She cast a few furtive glances towards the end of the alley: no sign that anyone had been there.
She lugged the door open, the warped wood fitting tightly into its frame. She winced at the scraping noise.
The hotel owner shuffled by, his almost feline features giving him a Moragwar look. "Ah, it's you again,” he said. She slipped him the usual payment.
He counted the money. "Yeah, yeah, as long as the money keeps coming." He handed her a key from under the counter. "Room seven. You have half an hour until they arrive."
She forced herself to smile at him. Smiling is good for business. "Nice working with you."