Life as a daemon could, sometimes, actually be pretty fun. Haunting objects and making them appear at random, possessing pets and making them talk in the voice of some long dead relative, making people sleep-writing stupid shit in red on clear glass. Madly prophetizing in made up languages. All good fun.

  What wasn't funny, at all, was losing a bet with your fellow demons and being bound with your twin brother to two Numen-awful horned beasts of burden, until the next planetary alignment. Having a physical body with physical needs sucked. Bad. It sucked ass, yes it did.

  The only way to make it a bit more fun, was to scare the other flesh sacks shitless. Bramaboxa still laughed, well, mooed, sometimes, thinking back at when they found it gliding on its back, munching on grass upside down, like nothing was wrong about that. Or when it peed in the bucket. Or when it caused a fire in the house when no one was home.

  His brother Dulcicloxia, instead, was a bit… Odd. It tried as hard as it could to look like an actual, honest to Numens ox. It found all the ways he could to be pet, or groomed, and sometimes happily licked the hands of our handlers. Its brother was always a bit dim, it thought, glancing at him eating from a hay bale.

  There was something in the air today. Something… Chaotic, and weird, like seeing an old friend, who always flew solo, in a different city with partners and spawns. So. Weird.

  “Today is the day we'll be sent away, brother” said Dulcicloxia, looking longingly in the distance “today they'll make us start a long, long trip and we'll never see the lovely masters again”.

  Bramaboxa made a low moo, while swatting away a fly with its tail.

  “What lovely masters and what sending away! Who do you think will pull the plow if we're not here? The others are still too young and our sire died some months ago” he scowled, looking a bit upset towards its twin.

  “It's not like you do, brother. That would be me. You're too intent on making mischief and creating problems. Don't you like to be loved and pet? Don't you love our dear masters?”

  Dulci seemed really content in that moment, almost at peace with the world.

  “No I don't, you weird etheric fuck. I don't like having a digestion system. I loath having to drink water to survive. And I hate munching and munching and munching again on grass.”

  “Clovers are nice, tho”

  “Clovers are fucking delicious,” it admitted, shaking its head and liking its snout “but that is beside the point. The point is this: we're stuck here, as the bet asks, until the next planetary alignment, together. I'm just trying to make the best of it” it concluded, kicking the ground with its right leg, leaving a small dent in the earth, in the shape of a square.

  “As am I,” Dulcilaxia answered, meekly “even if I don't risk setting fire to swathes of the forest to do it”. It made an awkward expression with its ox face, which could even be called a smile.

  “I thought it would cheer you up after the bench joke!” replied Brama, a bit incensed. It had had good intentions after all!

  “I did not need to be cheered up, I wanted you to say sorry! I almost broke an ankle! These bodies are fragile!“

  “Well, sorry… it wasn't as hilarious for me as it was for you!” it answered, sticking out it's tongue.

  “You are a lost cause, Brama.”

  “Moo moo moo, brother. Too bad we're stuck together, right?” it mocked its twin, which made it only seem sadder.

  “Or the possession becomes permanent, yes, I know.” the black furred one said. It looked a bit distressed. “Playing mortals is fun, being one is not.”

  “Thought you liked being a horseshoe crab,that one time.” the brown ox stated, guffawing.

  “The best crustacean ever? The best design on this plane? Yes! But you know we're not…” it looked around, then at its brother “made to be material.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “That we're not, no. We still have to keep strong, or the office guys will laugh at us if we don't make it back. These stupid chfurdm.”

  “They're not the reason why we're stuck like this. That would actually be your pride. Still. I'm pretty sure it's going to happen today.” One of the spots on its snout lit up. “It's today.”

  “You know your predictions while being material are not that reliable. Don't count your chickens before they hatch.” Bramaboxa murmured.

  “As you wish, brother, as you wish. Just…” It looked toward the path that cut through the woods, from where a couple people could be seen “Don't panic when they come to fetch us.”

  — — —

  The main house of the Barnsey was, clearly, brand new. The furniture was clean, if a bit bare, and the main door brought you directly to the dining room, with a big laid table, two reclining chairs, a small bookshelf near a fireplace, directly opposite the door, and a window.

  From that window, you could see the two oxen, which had moved from underneath their shed, looking inside the house, with a weird, confused look on their face. The spots on their heads were mildly glowing, but you could notice that only by paying attention, and it seemed like trying to do so made you… Distracted, so much so that you forgot about that and found something else to do.

  “Thank you for having us for lunch!” said Liliane, drinking wine from a glass.

  “Nonsense”, answered the homeowner, "we can't discuss a deal on an empty stomach, now, can we?”

  “And what a feast this was!” She answered, gleefully. “What did you put in the pie? It tastes divine.”

  “Oh”, the wife of Joseph started saying, “now, that's a family secret, but if you have some nephews of marriageable age I have a cousin that…”

  “Now, now, Raisin, I don't think these esteemed elders would want to join families with us.” the farmer mumbled, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  “Don't be harsh on yourself, Joseph!” Lazar commented. “Life is unpredictable and your family seems pretty nice, actually! Far from the borders of our lovely empire, owning a farm, no editor breathing on your neck…”

  Liliane coughed, and her husband looked a bit embarrassed. He tried to steer the conversation away from their family or, Numen's forbid it, work.

  “Let's get back to business. How much would you like, for the two oxen?”

  “We don't want to give them a price, sir.” started Joseph “We love our animals as we do our family. Putting a price tag on them would be like putting one on my mother in law, Numens bless her heart. Just tell us how much you think they are worth, and we'll tell you if we agree” he said, holding his wife's hand.

  “Well. They really seem like fine specimens, even if you told me of their… Peculiarities. But I also know that you hate letting go of your animals. So I believe that… twelve gold lyres should be a fair compensation. What do you think?”

  Joseph looked at Raisin, and she nodded.

  “I think we could be very happy with a sum like that, now. Let me bring you the oxen.”

  Wait a moment, please” interrupted Liliane “we just have a request, before shaking on it.”

  “Sure, ask away! I don't believe you'll ask something outrageous” Raisin replied.

  “Oh, no, nothing weird, I swear”, Liliane continued, “Could we just, hum, could we be left alone with the oxen for a bit?”

  — - - - - - - - - - -

  “Squeak”

  “Yes, I think so too, Spyce, they smell off” Liliane answered to the rodent.

  “Are these nightspawns, ghosts, ore something else?” Lazar asked, a bit worried.

  “Something else I think”

  The old woman was twirling a lock of hair that ran away from her braid with her pinky finger.

  “What could they be?” Lazar asked, a bit put off by his wife's calmness.

  “Well, we have lots of books on the preternatural now, don't we? We just need to check them. Still, they do not seem malicious in nature, just a bit mischievous maybe.”

  “One of them burnt a house to the ground” the old man objected.

  “Like we did not enjoy a little bit of arson in our youth. Maybe they are just young, or misguided, or don't work well with hooves and just wanted to cook themselves something different for once.”

  She looked at her husband and laughed. “We both have a thumb and still both of us manage to burn stuff all the time!”

  “You really are too lenient on animals, Liliane.” stated Lazar, frowning.

  “Squeak squeak”

  “Exactly, Thyme, she sees a pretty snout like yours and all hope is lost for her to be rational”.

  “Says the man who can't speak with animals without a translator and just tried to befuddle me. Thyme said that the oxen are not to be trusted that much and to pay close attention to them. They smell of… What word is that again? Ugh, whatever. Still, he said that once his uncle was possessed by the ghost of a moth. It was not fun trying to stop him jumping in random fires. We will have to be careful. I won't be distracted, promise.” Liliane conceded.

  “Well, whatever the case, I believe we should try and speak with them to understand their intention, and if needed be, exorcize them. We can't afford to be careless with the beasts that will pull our carriage for the foreseeable future.”

  “One of the books I have here speaks a bit of all kinds of malicious and mischievous spirits.” She took it out, and began to skim it. “Well, should they be less than agreeable, there are a couple simple exorcism rituals in the Numens’ name that we could use. We just need salt and pepper but I should have both in my purse. Oh, and someone has to sing a chant, so that would probably be you. And here, read this. ‘You can check if an animal is possessed by opening their jaws and looking at their teeth. If they are, they should have the wrong ones. Useful.”

  She closed the book and put it back in her purse. Thyme and Spyce followed.

  “I agree.” Lazar dusted his hands against his jacket. “Well. Let's go look in the oxen's mouth, now, shall we?”