This section is for the literature works of Andrew DeMaggio. I hope you enjoy his work as much as we do. He has a Deviant Art page Xth-Mode-Kite. He's pretty new to writing but he does have a good story telling mind.
You can also keep up with his XMK Weekly Series on his YouTube account.
"Zatsuthe...The time has come for you to leave..." an ominous voice echoed from afar.
All around was an infinitely pitch-black room without the slightest sign of light. The only things that existed in it were the voice of a god long since banished, and a lowly incarnate of the shadow’s left behind.
“Zatsuthe…From this point on, your world will expanded. This infinite void will no longer be your prison. For the first time, you will see light, but it will not mean your absolute freedom…You shall still be tied to the darkness, if only in spirit. While I allow your body and mind to venture out into the light, your soul shall remain with me, so you will always remember your rightful place in existence. But when you finish your purpose, you will be free to chose your own, whether it be in the light, or back into the darkness, or even the void in between. Now, go…Lucifer is waiting…”
***
“And thus, we are born in darkness. Let us all give thanks to our glorious and almighty God, who so sacrificed his Son, so that we may live on in redemption. Amen.”
A typical day in the church, filled with the bright colors of the stain-glass windows. The church in Argoflow City was always crowded, since services were always up. Church need not only be attended on every Sunday. It’s crystal fountains and marble and gold decorations were always a look into purity. But the times were changing, and the church was starting to become a little dusty.
Standing before the altar was the youngest and most outspoken of the ministers of the church. At only 13, he was elected to be the official representative for the church all throughout Eldenre. He seldom ever wore regular attire, which suited him fine. He was quite comfortable in his holy robes of white and blue. His eyes were the same color as a cloudless sky and full of innocence and admiration of the world God created. Despite his small stature, he was never looked down on and was always spoken to with the utmost respect and was mature beyond his years. His name was Oren Sildre.
“And now it is within God’s Will to show us undeserving humans a sign of the times to come. My dear Family of God, on the night of the new moon, we shall be blessed yet again by God and are allowed to take a peak into the radiant future that we are heading towards. Brothers and Sisters, let us give thanks to the Lord for another 10 years of prosperity, and pray for another 10 years, amen.”
“Amen.”
The congregation began to make it’s leave. Before a single member left for home, each and everyone wanted to thank the young Minister Sildre for his devoted passion to the Lord. And as such, he was always happy to help however he could.
And when the final member left, he then headed towards his chambers, where he would begin to prepare for the nest sermon. For him, it was never dull and if given the opportunity, would plan every sermon from then to long after his death. But just as he took quill in hand, he heard the sound of glass breaking back in the main hall. When he made it to the hall, he looked around carefully for a thief or vandal of any kind. But aside from the broken glass, nothing was amiss. As he headed back to his room, a sudden burst of a thunderstorm shook the church. The sound of rain and thunder echoed throughout the church.
“This is odd…Storms don’t usually manifest this quickly…”
“’Normally’ doesn’t quite fit in here…” a dark, emotionless voice echoed.
Oren quickly looked around him, hoping to find the source of the voice.
“Who’s there?”
“Maybe a friend…or perhaps not? Hehehehehehe…Doesn’t matter. For now, just a meddler.”
“What do you mean, a meddler?”
“I came to just give a friendly warning: Do not attend the festival on the night of the new moon.”
“What’re you gonna do there!?”
“Me personally? Nothing…I’m not gonna stop the festival from happening, but I’m not gonna help anyone either. Whatever happens will happen.”
“What is that suppose to mean!?”
“It’s not your concern. You should just keep your distance from the festival.”
“I cannot do that!”
“Fair enough…But don’t blame me for what’ll happen. This was already decided long ago by the God you so lovingly worship.”
“God works in mysterious ways, but He’ll see to it that the sinful and unjust are punished!”
“Hehehehehe…Indeed He shall! But which ‘He’ are we talking about?”
“You don’t mean-!?!?”
“Go or don’t go. At this point, everything that happens is HIS will.”
And without another word, the bodiless voice left the church, leaving behind a confused and fearful minister of God.
The night of the festival had already arrived in such a short time. Oren was still uneasy about the strangers warning, but fairly confident that as long as he kept a careful eye on the situation, everything would turn out all right. He prayed to God for strength and continued his role in the festival as usual
One every 10 years, the many citizens of Eldenre gathered at it’s capital, the city of Argoflow. Stands were set up and many goods were sold. It was a day where every culture gathered and blended together in harmony. Fireworks and entertainment were regular sites at each an every one of the festivals. And when midnight began it’s approach, the people would gather to the center of the city where they awaited for the Grand Minister, Oren Sildre, to begin the ceremony that would allow everyone in attendance a 10 year glimpse into the future. This brief glimpse provided insight to do times and bad. It helped farmers know when and where to plant their crops, it helped investors know which shops would be the most profitable, and it helped the people know when to expect a possible crisis in Eldenre.
“With everything we have learn from last years glimpse, we have prepared ourselves and made things better than what they were shown to be. It has been that way since the First Glimpse, when our nation’s noble founder was granted a vision by God about a threat from the North. Thanks to that vision, he was able to strengthen our forces where it was necessary, and thus the threat from the North was vastly outmatched, and we now stand where we are. Let us now glimpse into the future, and improve ourselves from whatever may be sent to us, Amen.”
“Amen.”
The sky around the city began to become cloudy, and the night sky was lost to it. The clouds swirled around the center of the city and were constantly mixing. And the center of the vortex began to descend to the people below, with the rest of the vortex following along. When the center touched the ground, It then began to expand across the ground, and soon enveloped the entire city in a cloud-like mist. And when everyone in the city was in the mist, it then began to slowly clear up. Everyone was visible to the others, but everything else was no longer there. Everyone was simply in a giant sphere of mist. As the mist began to clear, a terrible sight greeted them.
Carnage and destruction were more than abundant. Demons of all shapes and sizes mercilessly attacked fleeing humans. Not one human escaped from their savage hunger.
Every city was in ruins and nothing was left intact. It seemed like Hell literally rose from the ground and replaced the entire world. Blues and greens which were so abundant in Eldenre were replaced with the red and black of molten destruction.
And in the center of Eldenre, where the once proud and noble Temple of the Divines stood, was an evil manifestation of it’s heritage. The construct in it’s place was a living creature planted into the ground in the center of the former Temple. And inside it was a legion of terrible demons clad in bloody armor. They screeched and roared in rhythm as one demon emerged from the red, glass-like wall, from where the only thing the people could see was a vertical mouth, which opened to reveal a bright red eye. And in a flash of light, everything was gone.
The mist disappeared, but the fear remained, and everyone began to run away, totally oblivious to other people’s presence. This chaos ensued while the Guard did what they could to calm and reassure the people that they could protect them, for all it was worth. And before the fear turned violent, a large explosion sounded from the city’s church., and an eerie laugh could be heard from a distance.
“This is it, Lucifer…I’m sure of it.”
“Excellent. Be careful when removing it. We don’t want to lose this small window of opportunity.”
“Are you sure it was a good idea bringing Zatsuthe? He‘s nothing but a bleeding heart”
“Exactly. He wouldn’t hesitate to tell the truth to someone. We just needed to direct where and when he told someone. And while he keeps that idiot Sildre busy, we shall take the Seal.”
“Whatever you say. I’m almost done with the duplication.”
In one of the darkest chambers or the church, a man bound in black hovered over a small pedestal, where he proceeded to wave his hand repeatedly over a small piece of stone in the other hand. And with each wave, the stone became closer to becoming an exact duplicate of a pendant residing on the pedestal. After 3 more waves of his hand, the two were indistinguishable.
“Ok, the duplication’s done. I’m switching it with the Seal right now.”
“Excellent. Zatsuthe is done and the human has no idea you are there. Proceed to set the spiders up. Zatsuthe will proceed to set up spiders in the lower levels of catacombs. Can‘t have them following us back.”
“Understood. I’ll be done before you know it.”
***
As various portions of the church collided with nearby buildings, a sadistic laugh began to sound louder as the destruction of the church began to reach to come to a standstill. Everyone’s eyes swept from place to place to find the origin of the laugh, but to no avail. Finally, Oren shouted louder than the laugh.
“Who are you!?!? Where are you hiding!?!?”
“Temper, temper…” the voice echoed.
“Show yourself!?!”
“Now why would I go and do that? I’m quite comfortable here. But if you want, Maule will gladly come over and keep you and your people company.”
Suddenly, a loud bang emanated from inside the crowd of people. Everyone began to push back to get further away from the spot where black smoke began to take the shape of a person. What walked out was a man covered head to toe in black clothing. His right arm was that of a demon, very disproportioned to the rest of his body. It was covered in long, ebony spines and had a slight stickiness to the pale skin. There were only 3 fingers on it’s hand, but each nail was as long and sharp as a knife.
When he stopped moving out of the smoke, he placed his right arm across his chest and bowed before the terrified people in front of his. And as he began to rise, he turn his entire body clockwise, swinging his right arm out and launching several of the ebony quills, which made contact with a few people. One man was stuck in the forehead, while everyone else had a quill loges in their chest or shoulder. A few were stuck in the wall behind them, but some people suffered flesh wounds as the quills brushed past their skin. Everyone began screaming in fear, but before any of them could leave, the man swung his right arm above him, launching more quills. As they came back down, they greatly grew in size and struck the ground in from of the people, keeping them caged in the center of Argoflow.
“C’mon, people! It’s a festival! Lighten up! Let’s see some smiles!” me man said with the enthusiasm of a child. When no one moved, his tone took a much more terrible tone.
“I SAID, LET’S SEE SOME SMILES!!!”
“Enough, Maule.”
“Aww, c’mon, Lucifer, I never get to have any fun!” he moaned
“All in good time, my dear Maule. For now, we need to be level headed about this.”
“But level headed is SO BORING…”
“I promise that very soon, you’ll get to have as much fun as you want, but for now, you have to do exactly as I tell you. You don’t want to get eaten like your brother was, do you?”
“N-no! I’ll behave! I promise”
“Good…Now don’t go around unnecessarily killing more humans, now.”
“Ok, ok…”
From the spot where Maule appeared, 2 more loud bangs sounded. And from the cloud of smoke came two beings who were also covered in black. The tall one had a set of back, demon wings around his shoulders and acted as a cape. The other looked to have been a child. His wild, long silver blue hair was the only thing not wrapped in black cloth.
Both proceeded to walk up to Oren, who was busy attempting to help treat the wounds people suffered from Mauls first swipe.
“What it is you want here with us, demons!?!?”
“Simply put, we would like for you to come with us.”
Three days had passed since the event at the festival. If Oren was Lucifer’s prisoner, he seemed to have a lot of freedom.
As long as Oren made no suspicious moves and stayed with the main area’s of the underground fort, he would not be placed in a cell. But other than that, Maule had to be with him at all times and when he wanted to go somewhere, it was best to follow him.
“I’m hungry. ..” Maule groaned.
“Then get something to eat yourself. I’m not following you into the dining area,” Oren replied
“Well, I COULD always eat you,” Maule said with a wide grin.
“And then your leader would eat you, am I right?”
“You’re no fun. Can’t you take a joke?”
“No, I’m afraid I have no sense of humor at all,” Oren said sarcastically.
“Well there’s no need to eat you anyway. We got plenty of human flesh and blood to last us a good while. The only one who never eats any though is Zatsuthe.”
“What kind of demon doesn’t eat humans?” Oren asked with genuine curiosity.
“The kind that eats other demons…” Maule then proceeded to shiver as if winter has just possessed his body.
“So then, why don’t you follow him? I mean, if he could eat that other guy-”
“You mean Lucifer?”
“Yes, him.”
“It’s kinda weird, but from what I get of it, Zatsuthe always calls Lucifer ‘inedible‘.”
“Inedible?”
“Yeah. I guess there are a few demons he can’t eat, although I’m not sure how he can tell which demons he can and can’t
eat…And he doesn’t just nibble either. I’ve seen him take huge bites out of a demon more than three times his size in only a few seconds. Then another time, he just inhaled a giant demon.”
“Inhaled?”
“Yeah. When he opened his mouth, it was like anything in front of him just got pulled in.”
“How does he do that?”
“Not sure. But regardless of how he eats them, he usually ALWAYS get their powers.”
“He what?”
Before he could get an answer, Maule rushed off out of the fort and returned a few seconds later with a half-eaten boar.
“You could’ve answered me BEFORE you left.”
“I kuuda’v, buht I waz hungra.” Maule said with his mouth full of boar meat.
While Maule dig into the fresh kill, Oren continued walking around the fort, never opening a door he wasn’t suppose to. He had already walked everywhere he was permitted to go, so nothing came to surprise him much. Often he though how easy it would be to leave, but then they’d go on a rampage and kill many people until he surrendered to them again. But the one thing that annoyed him most was Maule. While Oren was essentially an adult in a child’s body, Maule was a child in an adults body and to top it off, Maule was psychotic. He would have random bursts of anger from even the smallest displeasure. Oren learned to avoid such situations and had yet to truly made him mad, but Oren was careful nonetheless. He wondered what it was they were waiting for. They told him back at the festival that they needed him to progress in their plan, but they didn’t offer anything more specific, and apparently, Maule wasn’t told anything.
“WHY THE HELL AM I HERE!?!?” he shouted in the middle of a hall on his way back to the dining hall.
“You wouldn’t like the answer, I guarantee you that”
It was the same voice from the church prior to the festival!
“Show yourself, you bastard!”
A loud bang. Thick black smoke arose from the ground in front of Oren. Out of the smoke came the individual with the wild blue hair. He looked the same from the night of the festival.
“Just who the hell are you!?!” Oren demanded.
“You should know. You’ve been asking Maule about me for quite some time now.”
“You mean…YOU’RE Zatsuthe!?!?”
“You were expecting someone taller, I suppose?”
“You don’t look any older than I am. I just thought-”
“That I was a timeless entity? Surprise! I’m no older than how I appear.”
“You can’t be that young…”
“And you can’t be here, but you are. Seeing is believing, or have you neglected your sense of sight?”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!”
“Shut up and keep moving, priest!”
It had not been a very graceful escape from the ruins. While Oren was glad to be free from it, he was not so thrilled in that he needed help from a demon to do it. Although Zatsuthe’s plan worked well enough, the fact that Oren had to blindly place his trust in a demon did not settle well with him.
Oren had made a mad dash when Zatsuthe’s copies started exploding in various locations throughout the fort. And while the demons worked to hold the fortress together, Zatsuthe and Oren had long been gone, and no one was anywhere close behind them. A simple plan merited a simple escape. Although Oren wasn’t too sure how much freedom he actually had. Zatsuthe made it a point that the demons would only attack humans to get him to return. So the hope was that by being in Zatsuthe’s company, the demons would believe Oren wouldn’t dare run off and thus no need for hunting humans was necessary. That was the idea anyway.
By the time they stopped, Oren was out of breath and he felt convinced that they had done nothing but run for hours. Zatsuthe didn’t appear anywhere near tired. In fact, he seemed impatient to wait on Oren as he was catching his breath.
“We’ve only been running for a few hours and you’re wore out? Man, humans are weak…”
“No…Demons are just ridiculously loaded with stamina…” Oren replied, taking deep breaths.
“Well whatever. As long as we get moving before nightfall. That’s when they’ll really be after us.”
“Oh great…Why didn’t you wait until morning to begin this little getaway?”
“The sooner we got out of there, the better.”
“You think just because I decided to go along with your plan, you can say ‘we,’ as in you and me?”
“Yesh…You’re not one for making many friends, are you?”
“Not with demons, at least…”
“Ouch. I’m kinda offended,” Zatsuthe said with humor in his voice. Oren guessed he was smiling, but couldn’t see his face wrapped up in that black cloth.
“Demons don’t have any feelings. They don’t have a heart.”
“Well, I suppose you got me there. In a way…”
Oren wondered what he meant by that, but before he could ask, a large explosion sounded off in front of them. Oren’s attention was immediately drawn to the source of the explosion
“What was that?”
“Bait.”
“Bait?”
“They probably used some of that Oni powder they were so preciously saving up.”
“Oni powder?”
“Basically, you take an ogres horn, then you grind it up into a real fine powder. It has a lot of different uses, mostly as an intoxicant by humans. But it’s highly explosive. And now that ogres are dying out, Oni powder is hard to come by.”
“How do you know it’s Oni powder?”
“I can smell it from here. It reeks like ogres do.”
“So what should we do?”
“I thought you were saying there was no ‘we’ here?”
“Regardless of how I feel, being in your company protects the people from being hunted by those demons and allows me an opportunity to send them back to Hell.
“And where do I come in after I’ve outlived my usefulness?”
“When that time comes, I’ll personally see to it that you are sent to Hell last. Even if I have to go down with you in order to accomplish that.”
“You REALLY must hate us. Oh well. I’ll die eventually. But I won’t go down easy!” he said with a slight laugh, like it was a joke between two good friends.
“I’ll keep that in mind. But for now, what are we going to do?”
“You stay here. Oni powder, even when used in an explosion, still retains its intoxicating properties. If a human so much as breaths in the air around the blast, you’ll be no better than a drunk for the next few hours. Just don’t let anyone see you, ok?”
“Got it. You better not leave me behind.”
Zatsuthe turned around in surprise and waved his hand in a friendly gesture, as if saying goodbye.
***
It had been several hours since Zatsuthe left in the direction of the explosion. Oren was feeling more and more like a fool for waiting so long.
“I should never have believed him…”
“Hey now, can’t you take a joke?” Zatsuthe’s voice echoed.
“Zatsuthe!? Where are you?”
“Behind you.”
Suddenly, Zatsuthe jumped out from a bush behind Oren and landed in front of him, greatly scaring Oren.
“Why the hell did you do that!?!” he demanded.
“Because it was funny,” he said with a humorous tone, like he was on the verge of laughing loudly enough to wake everything in the forest.
Oren didn’t know what happened back in the forest, but it was obvious that Zatsuthe wasn’t going to share his experience. And while Oren hated that little “incident”, he was actually glad he came back. He shoved that feeling away less than a second after it came.
Now they were on their way to a small, run-down village. It wasn’t much, but they needed somewhere to stay, and it was too dangerous to sleep outside. Zatsuthe said he could stay awake for weeks, so he’d guard Oren while he slept. Oren felt a little uneasy at having to once again trust his fate to Zatsuthe.
Just before they left into a clearing, Zatsuthe stopped and began unwrapping the black cloth wrapped around his face. After his face was free of the cloth, he let it hang around his neck, like he was going to forget it if he placed it somewhere else. He then took off his coat and wrapped the sleeves around his waist. Then, something started to grow out of his feel and knees. At first, Oren though they were like fractured stones, but they gradually shaped into armor plates for his feet and knees. While decorative in appearance, Oren notices that all over the plate were engravings of some kind. Upon closer inspection, he saw that they were in fact demonic runes, carved into the entirety of the plates. While he didn’t understand much about their runes, he knew demons often used them to perform complicated Arts in the middle of combat without having to properly perform it on the spot. The only downside was that very few demons could succeed in engraving an Art into an object without having it backfire on them. And the most any demon could utilize was one Art per object. Oren wondered what Art Zatsuthe’s plates had sealed in them. They all had the exact same runes, so he must have chosen a really powerful Demon Art to use instantly.
“You know, it couldn’t hurt to teach you a few things about demons. First off, they don’t like to be gawked at,” Zatsuthe said with a slight edge in his voice.
When Oren looked up, he immediately shut his mouth and was surprised at the face that looked back at him.
Aside from the extremely bright, blue eyes, he looked like a normal human being. Although his face and the skin on his arms from his fingers to the shoulders was a little pale for a human, he could easily pass of as one. Oren had learned that no demon, no matter how talented in transformation, could perfectly duplicate a human. They always had some kind of major flaw, like a horn or tail or arm that remained in it’s true shape. As such, they only transformed when they could hide the imperfections. And yet Zatsuthe could have easily blended into a human population, not needing to hide any exposed demon trait.
“What? Have I got something on my face? ” Zatsuthe asked Oren.
“Uhh…”
“There is, isn’t there? Get it off!”
Zatsuthe began running around wildly, swiping at his face repeatedly in an attempt to get something off that wasn’t there, all the while continuing his yelling.
“Stop it! There’s nothing on your face!” Oren shouted. Zatsuthe stopped in place, one foot hovering in the air, hands frozen on his face, eyes on Oren.
“Nothing’s on my face?”
“No, nothing!”
“Phew, that’s good,” he said, falling into a sitting position on the ground beneath him.
Oren was really confused. How could a demon, of all things, be afraid of something as insignificant as something on his face? Nothing that small could pose any kind of threat to him. He certainly didn’t act like any demon he’d ever heard of. He acted more like a…human…
“Not funny there, Oren!” Zatsuthe yelled.
Then, out of nowhere, Oren started laughing.
***
The villagers initially started running away in fear. Oren panicked and originally began to think that there WAS an imperfection in Zatsuthe’s human form. But then he noticed they weren’t running away from Zatsuthe specifically
As he approached a group of frightened children, they sprinted away from him, as if afraid they’d contract death and disease if they made contact with them. Everyone else flew when Oren and Zatsuthe took a step in their direction. They all began retreating to the center of the village, where a lone hut stood in the middle. And out came what looked to be a samurai. His armor was made from demons bones and carved into the image of bats. His katana was so large, it took three of the village men to just barely drag it to him, yet he picked it up without effort as if it weighed no more than a single pound.
“Travelers are not welcome in this village. Leave now, and I won’t have to bloody my blade on you,” he commanded.
The sword itself had a demonic presence about it. The sword was worked into the same bat engravings on the samurai’s armor. The blade itself held runes similar to the ones on Zatsuthe’s armor plates.
“Please sir, we mean no harm. We just need a place to recuperate,” Zatsuthe pleaded with the warrior. Oren was surprised at his humility. Surely a demon would not disgrace himself by referring to a human as a superior, even when disguised as one.
“We have no such place for you here. We have long offered our help to travelers, and long have we been exploited by them. I shan’t allow another such incident to occur again. Now I offer you one last warning: Leave this village at once.”
“We mean no harm. We won’t do anything to harm you or the villagers. You have my word.”
“Words are cheap, and we will not accept such meager currency any more.”
“Then let us prove that we are sincere.”
“Prove it by leaving our village.”
“There is nowhere else we can go.”
“Then you leave me no choice. Since you will not leave this village, you shall instead leave this world!”
“Left, left, always the left with you, isn’t it?” Zatsuthe said, dodging the samurai’s swings.
Every one of his slices were horizontally and from the left. And after one sash, he loosened his grip with his right hand and twisted the sword back to make another slash from the left. All Zatsuthe had been doing was ducking beneath the slashes every time the sword came around. No need to guard against a repeating pattern of ineffective attacks.
Even though Zatsuthe had no problems dodging the attacks, Oren was still worried about that sword. It was one thing to wear armor made of demon bones, but another to use a weapon made of them. Armor wise, demon bones provided more protection than steel and were significantly lighter. The trick was purifying the evil energy trapped in them before wearing it, otherwise the wearer would become a prisoner in is own body until the armor was either removed or the host was killed. But weapons usually had trouble, because they reacted to death and were much more prone to possessing the user than armor.
Before too long, the samurai’s attack pattern started progressing. He was now using diagonal attacks, although they still came from the left. It made dodging a little harder, but still doable. It was before too much longer the samurai began using only diagonal attacks.
“Switching to another type of slash won’t help, especially if you continue using it over and over again.”
“A mere strategy, little one.”
“Doesn’t look like a very good one to me, sir.”
No sooner had he said that than he felt a burning sensation across his chest. The burn seemed to push him back onto the ground. When he looked at the spot where the burning occurred, he saw a horizontal cut across his shirt, where a burn mark lurked underneath.
“When did you switch back to horizontal motions?”
“I didn’t.”
***
A squirrel, a dead goat, rotting wood from 3 days ago, rotten berries, fresh leaves and bark, wet dirt, and other such scents filled her nose. He had placed his trust in her, so she’d have to find them soon. If she lingered behind any longer, they’d be too far ahead to catch up with. Even though rain was making her job harder, she still had their scents located and only took a few minor detours in tracking, where the scent had begun to slightly wonder off from their path. Lucky for him, wolf demon’s don’t give up so easily.
The snap of a twig perked her ears up, and she quickly got to her feet and dashed to the source of the sound. It was only a wild horse.
She sighed to herself and began insulting herself
Of course they wouldn’t still be in the woods. The human requires warmer temperatures, otherwise he’d get sick and Zatsuthe would have to drag him behind, significantly slowing him down. And the last thing Zatsuthe would want is to take things slower. I’m such an idiot…
After a quick moment, she resumed searching through the scents. She wasn’t going to give up tracking them down that easily.
***
“You’re not going to live much longer if you don’t leave, young one,” The samurai warned Zatsuthe.
There were many cuts in his clothing, and almost every one of those cuts had a burn line of flesh beneath them. The samurai had long foregone repeated motions and now fought in a very different style than before. And even though not a single of his slashes seemed to hit him, Zatsuthe still received cuts and burning sensations. Oren couldn’t understand what was happening.
“I gotta admit, I’m perplexed here. Don’t suppose you’d give me a hint?” Zatsuthe asked with a grin.
“I will offer you another warning: Leave now, or I WILL kill you.”
“Are you kidding? I’m interested now. It’ll keep me up all night if I don’t figure out how you’re doing that.”
I thought you said you could stay awake for weeks, Oren thought
Despite the troubles in keeping track of their scents, Kijha was not about to give up. She’d come too far to let him down. No force of nature could prevent her from her mission.
***
Zatsuthe looked like he’d wear himself out before too much longer. Oren was amazed that he wasn’t using his demon powers against the samurai. For whatever the reason, he was showing restraint: not very befitting of a demon.
But whatever had him restrain his abilities, it was costing him the battle. The cuts were becoming deeper, and the burns more serious. It wouldn’t be much longer before the samurai struck a vital spot. Oren continued his observing.
Zatsuthe was still just dodging. And he made no motion as to attack. Oren wondered if it was because Zatsuthe hoped that by showing the samurai he meant no harm, the samurai would stop and allow them rest for the night. It seemed like such a naïve plan.
But Zatsuthe still continued dodging. He just kept on dodging the blade, and always had a burned cut a split second later. Oren wasn’t sure how the samurai’s slashes were making contact when they so clearly missed. He also wasn’t sure why the skin around the cut looked to have been burned. Zatsuthe was losing, and if he didn’t use his true power before too long, he’d pay dearly for it.
The samurai’s attacks become ever fiercer than the last, to the point where he disregarded the environment around him. He slashed at anything if it meant another slice at Zatsuthe. Buildings, boulders, and trees cut neatly in two, all just to get to Zatsuthe. Even the villagers became frightful of their protector.
Zatsuthe then surprised everybody, especially the samurai, by deliberately taking a full blow of the sword. It stuck itself into his shoulder and remained there about halfway into cutting off the entire left arm. Zatsuthe just stood there, motionless, while everyone else watched in silence. The samurai tried to pry his sword from Zatsuthe’s shoulder, but it would not even slightly shift its way out.
“I know your secret…” Zatsuthe said in a childish taunt.
At this, the samurai then began to frantically pull the sword out of Zatsuthe’s shoulder with all his might, but still it would not budge. After a few seconds of the samurai’s futile attempts to free the sword, Zatsuthe pushed away the samurai’s arms and kicked him away. The kick propelled the samurai into a nearby hut, which collapsed around him.
By the time he had pulled himself out of the rubble, Zatsuthe still stood there, with the blade still embedded in his shoulder.
Before too long, Zatsuthe then ran at an amazing speed and landed another kick into the gut of the samurai. Again, he sped into another hut which fell on top of him immediately after.
“This sword…” he whispered to himself.
He then grabbed the hilt of the sword with his left hand and slowly but surely worked its way out of his shoulder. Everyone was surprised that he not only still had the use of his left arm after such a deep cut, but also that he was able to pull it out of his shoulder without pause or hesitation. He didn’t show the slightest hint of pain and still continued to pull the sword out at an even pace.
And before too long, there he was, with the samurai’s sword firmly in his hand, which started dripping blood from the cut in the shoulder.
Zatsuthe just stood like that, looking directly at the samurai, who in turn looked back at him. Neither said a word, and the tension built up.
Then in a split second, Zatsuthe raised the sword above his head and brought it back down along its side. As soon as the tip dug itself in the earth beneath it, he kicked directly in the middle of the blade, breaking it in two. Everyone stood in shock, turning their eyes from the fragment of the sword in the ground to the one in his hand.
He then tossed the fragment in his hand to an inhuman distance, far from the village. The samurai looked greatly angered and charged directly at Zatsuthe. Zatsuthe caught a punch and tossed the samurai onto the ground, bringing down his elbow into the samurai’s chestplate, which immediately began to crack. The samurai got up to attack again, and Zatsuthe again caught the punch and tossed the samurai into a nearby tree, keeping one of the samurai’s gauntlets in his hand. When the samurai came back to attack once more, Zatsuthe tossed the gauntlet aside and met his attacker halfway, his hand clenched around the samurai’s throat. It was clear the grip was firm, because everyone could hear the samurai’s gasps for air.
Zatsuthe shoved the samurai to the ground and pried away the samurai’s unguarded hand and pulled away a very thin ring. He then worked it between his fingers until it was dust. The samurai passed out, and the villagers rushed to his side.
Oren himself rushed to the samurai’s side and checked his pulse. It was still good, so he wasn’t in any immediate danger. After feeling glad the samurai was ok, he then began to get angry at what Zatsuthe had done. There must have been another way to have resolved this! He thought. And yet Zatsuthe just stood there, looking away from the samurai and everyone else, off into a distant sky that promised immanent sunrise.
Zatsuthe and Oren had not talked to each other since that incident.
Although it happened a few days ago, Oren still could not swallow his pride and apologize to Zatsuthe. He still remembered what happened quite clearly, but couldn’t bring himself to say those words.
Oren had immediately reprimanded Zatsuthe and did not hold anything back. His shouting could probably have woken up every living thing in the forest around them
Immediately after the samurai woke up a few hours after the fight, he had a glazed look in his eye, as if he didn’t know where he’d been or what he’d done for the past few days. It was obvious to Oren that he’d been possessed by his sword and that Zatsuthe freed it’s grip on the samurai, but Zatsuthe still went too far in attacking the samurai when the sword’s grip would have dissipated in a few hours.
But then Oren learned that the samurai had the sword for a long time, and he always kept it purified of evil energy every day, no matter how minor. It was when he found an unusual ring that he began to become aggressive.
Apparently, the sword he used had a Demonic Art which a secondary “blade” sliced a few milliseconds afterward of a corresponding previous slash. So in essence, the Art repeated the motion of the sword in an after effect sort of way, modeled after previous slashes. And after he found the ring, it added a burn to the slashes that wasn’t detectable to the naked eye because there were no signs that the blade was hot or warmed up in any way.
Oren recalled how when the samurai kept attacking that Zatsuthe had removed the gauntlet that had covered the ring, and later removed it after he had a hold of the samurai’s neck. Somehow, he knew about the ring, and knew it was what possessed him.
While one part of Oren wanted to apologize to Zatsuthe for lashing out at him when he wasn’t the one at fault, the other part hated admitting that he was wrong and that a demon, of all things, was right when he wasn’t. And it was clear that Zatsuthe had nothing to say to Oren until an apology was made, so it was a stalemate.
They stayed at the village at the samurai’s request as a means of apologizing for his actions, even though he was possessed. They had stayed and helped repair the damage caused by the fight and had worked hard setting up the last hut. In the few days they stayed there, everyone gradually become friendlier to them and less fearful.
When the final hut was repaired, Zatsuthe told the samurai that he needed to keep moving on. But the samurai would not abide and told him that the least he and his village could do was give their guests a proper sendoff the following morning after a goodwill feast. Oren didn’t want to offend them, so he accepted their offer. And while it was clear they weren’t going to speak to each other, Zatsuthe was still going to be close behind Oren, so he too accepted.
After the meal, Oren and the samurai began conversing about the state of the world and other such small talk. Zatsuthe snuck out while no one was looking and crept along the various huts of the village. Eventually, he made his way to a cave very close to the village.
He proceeded inside the cave and took many twists and turns. Just when he though he got himself lost, he saw a shimmering blue light from one of the tunnels and took it. He followed that path until he came to a frozen, underwater lake. In the center of the ice was a very small patch of land not big enough for five people. And in the center was a wooden cross stained red in various spots. And near the center of the cross, where the stains were much larger and darker, was a spear, lodged into the cross.
Zatsuthe leapt from the edge of the lake to the cross in a single jump, not making contact with the mile of ice between the two.
***
When morning came, the samurai and the villagers waved goodbye at Zatsuthe and Oren, who continued on their way to wherever it was that Zatsuthe had planned on taking them.
While Oren was thankful that they weren’t running this time at least, he partially wished he was so all he’d have to think about was how to catch up to Zatsuthe. Instead, he got to walk and think about how best to apologize to a demon, a thought that made him cringe. As much as he knew he’d have to, the thought of apologizing to a demon made his stomach suck, like swallowing maggots that continued to crawl around in his stomach. It would leave a bitter taste in his mouth after saying it, but the last thing they needed was something as awkward as this. Until one of them said something to the other, the dreaded silence would continue, and Zatsuthe was not the one at fault.
“Zatsuthe,” Oren began.
“What is it?”
“It’s just…well, I…”
“What? Just spit it out.”
“I…was wrong…about before.”
“Hmm? What’re you talking about?”
“About before, right after you beat the samurai.”
“Oh that! I completely forgot about that.” Zatsuthe said in a cheery voice.
“What! Then why haven’t you talked to me since then!?”
“Oh, about that. I’ve just been thinking about where we should go from here. There are so many places we HAVE to go, and then there are some places we might consider going to. I just was working through the priorities.”
“So you’re telling me, you weren’t talking to me because of THAT!?!”
“Well…yeah.”
“I cannot believe you! And here I was about to…about to…”
“About to what?”
“NOTHING!!!”
“Yesh! Ok, ok. No need to get so bent up out of shape” Zatsuthe said with a grin.
***
Oren was still fuming about it when they reached Nilevine City. It was declared the most beautiful city in all of Eldenre. It was a living artwork. A city that heavily relied on canals that ran throughout the richly decorated city. At first glance, it was often assumed to be a city just for aristocrats, but such was not the case. Everyone in the city was just like everyone else: some were rich, some were poor, some worked hard, some didn’t, and every other kind of person existed here.
How they managed to keep their marble streets and buildings so white and clean was a mystery
“So, why are we here?” Oren asked when he caught up.
“We’re waiting.”
“Waiting? For what?”
“An informant.”
“What kind of informant?” Oren asked.
“The kind that informs you,” Zatsuthe said with an edge in his voice.
“I meant is he a human or a demon?”
“Why should it matter? If I trust them, so can you. Either that, or you can just learn to tolerate it. All you need to know is that he is an informant, and we are waiting her form him to arrive.”
Oren didn’t get a chance to argue back, because by then Zatsuthe blended into the crowd, leaving Oren behind in the crowd of people.
***
Even though it looked like a normal village, Kijha could tell there had been a battle only recently. And she could smell Zatsuthe’s blood. It broke off into three directions. Se assumed two of them were from a broken weapon that actually caused the bleeding. And since one of them went off elsewhere and another was relatively close, she had a good idea of which trail to follow.
She was getting much closer now.
***
Zatsuthe realized he was being arrogant, but it still mad him mad that Oren still refused to just cooperate with him unconditionally. Though he could blame Oren for his fear as a human, it didn’t stop him from feeling so agitated. The things he set out to do would take much longer if Oren kept questioning everything he did, and he didn’t have much time to work with. He had a lot of events to set up and Oren wasn’t making it any easier.
Zatsuthe feared he wouldn’t finish his tasks on time.
***
Oren was afraid to go anywhere, for fear that Zatsuthe would lose track of him, so he stayed where he got left behind. It wasn’t the first time he stayed in the same spot to wait for Zatsuthe, but he still felt like an idiot for actually believing he’d return.
And just as he was about to move on, a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind, startling him. When he turned around, he saw Zatsuthe’s gleeful face.
“Why do you keep doing that!?” Oren demanded.
“Because it’s fun,” he replied.
***
Oren wasn’t sure how to react to such a gift. It was one thing to receive something from a demon, but even more unusual was that it was Zatsuthe who gave him something. A spear, none the less. And apparently not an ordinary spear.
Alt first glance, Oren could tell it was not fashioned by human hands. It was made out of a blue crystal and had various engravings all over the handle and tip. The spearhead itself looked more like a ceremonial butterfly dagger, with the very tip split down the middle. Even if it was a demon weapon, he still did not think much of it. Then Zatsuthe told him something that almost made him lose the grip on it.
“This is the Longinus Spear. Originally forged by human hands, contact with a certain God’s blood gave it enormous purifying abilities. Not only that, but it also has a limited amount of control over water and ice as well.”
Oren stood silent when he heard Zatsuthe say “a certain God’s blood” and hardly moved at all.
Then the other things Zatsuthe said became to come into focus.
Purification? Control water and ice? Why would he give me something so…threatening to him and his kind?
Before he could get an answer, Zatsuthe had begun moving again. Oren was exhausted after catching up to him again. And behind him was the same seven year old girl, trailing behind their footsteps like a lost puppy.
***
“You feel that?
“Yeah. It’s lose by”
“Ok boys, we haven’t had a decent kill for months now. But that’s no need to be cocky.”
“Right.”
“Got it, boss.”
“Ok then. He thinks he’s safe in a crowded city. We’ll show him he can’t hide by using humans as shields.”
“Long live humanity!”
“Long live Eldenre!”
“And long live the Demon Slayers”
Luckily for them, Zatsuthe and Oren entered the city during the night of their yearly festival. It was easy to be overlooked, since most of the people were so fixated on the massive parade.
Zatsuthe and Oren too enjoyed the parades and festivities. The air was thick with the scent of sweets and cooking meats. Oren himself felt shivers of hunger line his stomach.
Zatsuthe then handed Oren some coins and told him to have as much as he wanted. Oren took them without hesitation and sped off to a nearby stand.
Unbelievable, Zatsuthe thought, He doesn’t trust me with his life, but he trusts me with his stomach.
***
Zatsuthe felt like he and Oren were being flowed since they left the village, but since the follower always kept a distance, he didn’t read too much into it. Now during the festival, the follower was becoming more active. Of course he expected as much.
***
Amma, the girl who had been following Zatsuthe and Oren since they arrived in her village and helped free their protector from demonic possession, was running around the city with other children. At first, she didn’t want to get too far behind them, but she caved in to her desire to join in the game.
Children all around her were running away, fleeing another child wearing a giant red mask. The objective of the game was to not be touched by the person with the mask, otherwise the person touched by the chaser would have bad luck until the next festival, where they get the opportunity to bestow that curse on someone else if they can touch someone else before midnight of the festival
Amma was enjoying herself and had kept a good distance from the one wearing the mask, so he often gave up on her and chased after someone else. And just as she was about to make another run from the read masked chaser, she ran into someone on accident and had fallen down. She quickly apologized and got up to bow down in apology when she looked up into Zatsuthe’s eyes.
***
Oren had helped himself to a lot of different samples of food from various stands. He was hungry, but he also realized a cultural festival in Nilevine was not something to just overlook, so he sampled everything that they had. While he considered having just one dish of something to fill his appetite, he wasn’t going to miss the chance at tasting everything offered. He helped himself to little bites of various sweets and dishes. Everything was good, so he took enough of everything so he’d have enough to have a good meal out of. But while bringing his plate back to rejoin Zatsuthe, he saw a little girl at his side. Oren wondered what happened during his brief absence.
***
Three shadows hovered over them on one of the buildings rooftops. There weren’t about to rush in.
“What about a small bomb?” asked the shortest one. He had a giant axe fastened to his back and wore the same identical demon hide as the other two.
“Too messy. You need to think more carefully in a confined space, Kirul” said the tallest one. He was bony thin and his face was almost completely wrapped up in bandages. Two short swords were fastened to his elbows and another two on his feet.
“Jula, restrain yourself. It’s not his fault he’s had so little experience with exterminating a demon in a heavily populated area.” said the leader. He branded three curved swords that could attach and form a bladed ring. His left eye was stitched shut and he was missing a leg, replaced by a long dead demon, preserved and fashioned into a makeshift leg. Despite the replacement, he still walked with the same stride as if he never lost a leg in the first place.
“My apologies, Jaka.”
“Take no heed of it, my dear brother.”
“So, if not by bomb, then how should we do it, Jula?” Kirul asked.
“Simple. We get another demon.”