Chapter 16: Ashen Plain

Chapter 16: Ashen Plain

With Sonny's dramatic demise in the can, it was finally time to tackle Michael's exile scenes. This meant capturing the whole shebang - the escape, the Apollonia romance, and her tragic end. No pressure, right?

Our ragtag crew packed up and embarked on a journey that felt more like an odyssey than a location shoot. Seven hours, four buses, and one questionably roadworthy taxi later, we found ourselves in the Ashen Plains.

As we stumbled off the last bus, stretching cramped limbs and rubbing bleary eyes, I couldn't help but grin. The place was perfect - a dead ringer for the Sicily of my imagination, even though Sicily didn't exist in this world.

The Ashen Plains sprawled before us, a patchwork of wide farms and rustic charm that screamed "underdeveloped rural paradise."

As the crew began unloading our equipment, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nerves. We weren't just in unfamiliar territory - we were in Asmodeus family turf.

This place was governed by none other than Agustin Asmodeus, son of the big bad Asmodeus himself back in Ferland City.

Rocky sidled up to me, his voice low enough that the rest of the crew couldn't hear. "Uh, your highness? You did get permission to film here, right? I'd rather not offend a demon lord."

I plastered on my most confident smile, the one I used to use at royal functions when I had no clue what was going on. "Of course, Rocky! What do you take me for, some kind of reckless, exiled prince with no regard for proper procedures?"

The look he gave me could have curdled milk. "That's exactly what I take you for."

I laughed, hoping it didn't sound as nervous as I felt. My palms were sweating, and I'm pretty sure my horns were drooping a bit. "Relax. I sent a, uh, very polite request to the Asmodeus family. I'm sure it's fine."

Rocky didn't look convinced, but the rest of the crew seemed to take my word for it.

Or maybe they were just too tired from the journey to argue. Either way, we started making our way towards the home we'd be renting for the next few days.

As we trudged along, our equipment clanking and rattling, I couldn't help but marvel at the landscape. The Ashen Plains lived up to their name - the ground was a soft gray, like the ashes of a long-dead fire. But despite the eerie name, there was a strange beauty to the place. Fields of dark, twisted crops stretched as far as the eye could see, punctuated by the occasional gnarled tree that looked older than time itself.

As we were settling into our temporary digs, I overheard our Apollonia, Vivienne, complaining about the heat. "It's really hot in here..." she muttered, fanning herself dramatically.

After our little meet-and-greet with the local heat and Vivienne's confidence, we finally settled into our temporary home. The house was spacious... or at least, it would have been if we weren't packed in like sardines in a demonic tin can.

"Hope you're all comfortable with close quarters. We're bunking together to save on the budget." I said, surveying our cramped quarters.

George looked around, his eyes wide. "Boss, are you sure this is legal? Pretty sure there are laws against this many demons in one space."

I shrugged. "Probably. But hey, think of it as method acting. We're all exiles in this place, remember?"

The groans that followed were probably audible back in Ferland City.

We managed to squeeze in about four hours of sleep before the unholy screeching of a Cursed Chicken jolted us awake. If you've never heard a Cursed Chicken at dawn, count yourself lucky. Imagine a banshee with laryngitis gargling razor blades, and you're halfway there.

"What in the nine hells is that?" Rocky grumbled, his hair sticking up in all directions.

"Our wake-up call," I replied, trying to sound chipper and probably failing miserably. "Rise and shine, everyone! Time to make a movie!"

The bleary-eyed glares I received in response could have curdled milk.

We stumbled our way to the nearby market, a colorful array of demon vendors hawking everything from eyeball soup to cursed amulets. I steered us towards the cheapest restaurant I could find - a dingy little place that promised "Food that won't kill you (probably)" in flickering neon.

As we huddled around a table that had definitely seen better centuries, slurping down something that might have been coffee in a past life, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. This wasn't exactly the glamorous filmmaking experience I'm sure everyone had signed up for.

"Look, I know this isn't ideal," I said, addressing my tired and slightly nauseous-looking crew. "But we're making history here. The first demon mob movie shot on location in Ashen Plains!"

Vivienne raised an eyebrow. "You mean the first demon mob movie shot in a place we're pretending is Sicily because we couldn't afford to go to the real thing?"

I pointed my fork at her. "Exactly! That's the spirit!"

We finished our questionable breakfast and headed out to start our first day of filming.