Year 743; Day 350
Acerbus (4th Town in the Black Circle)
I could not have asked for a better day; the sun is shining, the sky is such a vibrant blue without a single puffy white cloud, and the temperature is rather warm for the middle of autumn. My dark blonde-brunette hair blows in the slight breeze that passes through the town. Such a beautiful day; the ones without demons always are.
The breeze is somewhat chilly, so I shiver, wishing I had worn a cloak. I wear a simple, sleeveless white dress with a skirt that falls just past my knees. It has no decoration, only wealthy people can afford that. I wear no shoes; Havily never had the money to buy all the children shoes. Now that she is deceased, the new caretaker at the orphanage doesn’t care enough to give us any, except in the winter. Besides, I’m seventeen, nearly old enough to take care of myself. One day, I’ll get a job that pays well and I finally have the luxury of being able to wear shoes.
In my hands, I carry two woven baskets filled to the top with fruit, dried meats, bread, and other food products. The new caretaker, named Necia, sent me out to do a little grocery shopping. She never has her stern assistants do it; instead, she forces us to do the work most of the time. Her assistants lay about, doing whatever they please, never really doing their jobs.
Wow, these baskets are heavy. Since when did food weigh so much? The market in Acerbus is not very far from the orphanage.I have thin, scrawny arms with little muscle, maybe that’s why. Even my many years of training in the skill of sword-fighting, I have little strength. I have to shove through many people, loudly saying “Excuse me! Coming through!” The people are so dim-witted that they forget ‘excuse me’ really means ‘move out of my way’. I generally just push through them, earning a few unhappy stares. When I finish weaving my way through the crowd, I end up on the curb side near the wall.
The walls have stood there for as long as I can remember. Its main purpose is to keep the demons out; those fearsome, grotesque creatures that feed on the souls of human beings. It divides the Circle into fourths, each town cut off from the other. If you looked at it from above, it would look like a pie cut into four equal pieces. I’ve never left Acerbus, one of the four towns. I always wonder what goes on beyond these high walls. They are extremely tall, too tall to climb. Their thickness makes them impenetrable, which is the main purpose. Despite our efforts, demons can still enter. There are many aerial demons that can just fly over the walls.
My arms are beginning to burn, so I drop the baskets, if only for a minute. How I wish I were stronger, so I could carry these things with ease. After my quick respite, I grip the handles again and prepare to lift them up. Before I can pick them up, I see a familiar face in the crowd. In fact, he spots me too, waves slightly, and begins walking over.
He has deep, dark eyes that I find easy to get lost in, and when he stares at you, it feels as though he is seeing into my very soul, my very being. He has black hair that I notice has gotten longer. It now falls past his chin, almost to his shoulders. It is common for men in Acerbus to never cut their hair. I guess that tradition has finally caught up to him. He is a head taller than me, and is a year older than me, which makes me feel small when I am near him. He wears simple clothing as well: black trousers, a white long-sleeved, button-down shirt tucked neatly into his trousers, and black shoes. Lucky.
His name is Alastair. I’ve known him since I was six years old, when his family first moved here from an adjacent village in the circle. Their original village was getting over-crowded, so they decided to move here. His mother died a while ago, so it was just him and his father, who is one of the many merchants that inhabit Acerbus. I met him when Havily took me to greet the newcomers. His father was friendly and accepted our warm welcome. Alastair had just sat on a wooden crate, staring at us the whole time. He barely said a word to us.
He has changed since then. He is still very introverted and is not very talkative. I’ve never had a very long conversation with him. He is very kind though, and sometimes helps me with my work. In all the years I’ve known him, I don’t really know much about him as a person. He doesn’t talk much about himself.
He stops in front of me, and says, “Need some help, Alia?”
I gratefully accept his offer. He lifts one of the baskets as if it were one of the lightest things he’s ever carried. Well, he is a merchant’s son, so he probably has to lift heavy things all the time. Most of the walk is silent, as usual. I notice a few girls that live nearby looking at us and whispering to themselves. I always ignore them. Rumors spread easily in this town because it is small, most of them not even true. Many people have asked me if Alastair and I were together. I always am quick to say no. He’s more of an acquaintance than a friend.
We arrive at the orphanage, a large building made of a combination of limestone and wood. The shingled roof is crumbling, and the limestone tiles need a new coat of paint. A few windows are busted; mine is one the third floor, right in the center. It has a crack in it and the latches are stuck, so it will never open again. We step through the front door, into the foyer. A wooden stair case, railings laden with spider webs, leads to the upper floors. I see that Necia’s assistants haven’t done their cleaning jobs yet. The floor is hardwood, covered with a torn red carpet to hide the wood rot. A coat rack sits next to the door, empty of any cloaks. A table stands against a wall, a mirror above it. A pile of books and papers clutters the table, and an oil lamp sits on it, a flame burning away.
“Where do we put these?” Alastair asks, his eyes scanning the room. The house appears to be empty, but I know that the other children are hiding upstairs. There are few of us these days. The orphans here are mostly under the age of ten; I am the eldest. There is one boy who is thirteen, the second oldest. Once I turn eighteen next year, I’ll be allowed to leave and live wherever I please, and the boy will become the oldest member here.
“Alia, is that you?” I hear Necia call.
I hear footsteps up above, and see her walk down the stairs. She wears a red floor-length skirt and a long-sleeved black shirt. Her red hair is neatly tied back, away from her face.An attempt to appear professional, I suppose.
“Where would you like these, ma’am?” I say, holding up the basket. She makes sure we call her ma’am or by some sort of title. She is so proper that most of us hate her for it. We miss Havily’s warmth and kindness. She always made sure we used manners and such, but she let us have fun too. Necia does not.
“Ah yes, the groceries; bring them in the kitchen. The cook will put them away for you. Ah, hello Alastair. A pleasure to see you again,” she says, before leaving. She barely even knows Alastair; he rarely comes over here to visit. He politely nods and looks at me.
“You’re lucky you don’t live with her,” I whisper and have him follow me to the kitchen. Is it just me or did I see him smile slightly at my comment?
We place the baskets in the kitchen, next to the hearth and a pile of pots waiting to be washed. The cook is gone, so we decide to help put the food away. The cupboards are filthy; any amount of cleaning could not get rid of this grime. For sanitary purposes, we put the food in wooden containers and bread boxes. I neatly pile the baskets in the small storage closet.
“Well, I’d best be going,” Alastair says, putting the last of the food in the cupboards.
As he leaves through the front door, I smile and thank him for his help. He waves and walks into the daylight, suddenly immersed in the crowd. I gently close the door and begin to walk up towards my bedroom. It is small and plain. The walls are white, although age has allowed them to take on a yellow hue. My bed is small, but just big enough to hold me. It has brown wool blankets that are very warm. One of them is a quilt with a pattern containing beautiful red roses. Havily made it just for me. It is my favorite memento of her. My dresser has two drawers, big enough to hold what little clothes I have. I have an end table by my bed, holding an oil lamp and the book I am currently reading. Other than that, the only decoration I have is my two swords, sitting in their plain sheathes on a chair by the broken window.
The swords are plain; the cheap kind that dull easily and have no decoration what so ever. I take good care of them, though, as they are the only ones I have. Havily had found them in the attic, left by the previous owners of the house, before it was an orphanage. She let me keep them.
I’ve had little time for training; Necia keeps me pretty busy. She disapproves of women participating in combat. I somehow managed to convince her that knowing how to defend myself would come in handy in tight situations, especially in the demon-infested world we live in today. The rule is that I have to do my chores first, and then I can train whenever I feel like it; but I can only stay in the back lawn. Oh, and if I ruin anything with the swords, I am no longer allowed to train and I have to pay for whatever I break. I’ve been good so far; I hope it stays that way for the rest of the time I live here.
I rest on my bed and open the book to the page I left off at. It is late afternoon by the time I finish it; I didn’t really have that much left to begin with. I hear Necia call me for dinner, so I leap off the bed and move to the dining room. I sit between two other orphans: the thirteen year old boy and a little girl. Today’s dinner is meat and rice drenched in sauce and topped off with fresh cooked vegetables. I stab the meat with my fork and take a bite. It is tough, but at least it has flavor. Usually the meat has no taste at all. I have finished the meat and moved on to the vegetables when I hear a loud rumble from outside, a noise that is a cross between an explosion and thunder.
“What in Eternity’s name was that?” Necia says, putting her fork down on the plate. An assistant shrugs, and a bunch of children turn to look out the window. The square looks like it usually does, except there are less people. Now’s the time when most people go in for the night. Another rumble occurs, and this time it has my attention. I quickly finish my rice and excuse myself from the table.
“Young lady, you better not go out there!” Necia says sternly, glaring at me. I do not reply, and sneak out the back door. I cut through the neighbor’s back lawn; the house is abandoned so no one will come out to yell at me. I run through the alleyway and into the north side of the square, next to the wall leading to the village next to the valley.
Everything is calm, but there are a lot of people hustling about in the square, trying to finish up their business and run into the safety of their homes. They always do that when they suspect that a demon is close to the town. I notice Alastair’s father cleaning up his shop. I run to the store, eager to see a friendly face.
“Alia, what a pleasant surprise. Necia have you running errands for her again?” he says with a friendly smile.
I shake my head. “No, sir. Not this time. I want to know what that noise was.”
“Probably those demons causing a ruckus again. I saw a few aerial ones flying about this morning.” His smile falls a bit. That always happens when demons find their way into a conversation.
“They won’t come in the town, will they?” I ask, my heart beating a little faster. I have a completely rational fear of demons, and yet, I want to be able to run up to one and thrust a sword through its heart. I want to be strong enough to slay any demon that finds its way into our beloved Acerbus.
“Oh, I hope not. You better pray to Eternity, Alia. We don’t have soldiers to protect us.” This is why I want to train myself in sword fighting.
“Where’s Alastair?” I ask, not seeing him in the shop.
“The boy went out a while ago. I sent him to deliver some goods to our customers. His first delivery was at the old man’s house, by the fountain over there if you want to go find him.”
I thank him and run off to find him. When I reach the center of the square, I hear a screech, and I see it. An aerial demon, flying above the town, not too far from the ground. It has huge black feathered wings, a sharp beak, and a human torso and legs, the skin a pale lavender color. I run faster, my bare feet stepping on loose cobblestones and pebbles. It hurts, but I have no time to attend to any small scrapes I get. I need to find Alastair.
I spot him, walking towards away from the fountain, empty handed. He must have finished his last delivery. I’ve spotted what made the noise: the disgusting demon. I want to run and hide in the orphanage now; to curl up in my bed and hide under the warm blankets. I need to warn my acquaintance though.
“Alia?” he says, appearing confused, “What’s wrong?”
I point to the square, where the demon is now standing on the ground, looking around. Alastair’s eyes grow wide.
“What are you doing out here? It’s dangerous!” he says.
“I wanted to see what made the noise,” I replied. To my horror, the bird demon looks right at us, and lets out an earsplitting screech. I yelp and hide behind Alastair, clinging to his shirt.
“This way,” he says, tightly gripping my arm and leading me behind an empty trader’s stand.
I curl up so my knees touch my chin, and I close my eyes. “This is not happening…” I repeatedly whisper to myself, praying to Eternity to make the beast go away. I don’t want to lose my soul.
I hear the demon walk up to the stand, and sniff around curiously. My heart starts pounding faster, and that’s when the beast spots us. It lifts one large clawed foot and smashes it down onto the stand. I duck down and cover my head with my arms as splinters fly everywhere. When I look up, my arms are covered in bloody scratches, and Alastair is laying face-down on the pavement. I crawl over to him and cautiously shake him, calling his name. He moans and pushes himself up, much to my relief. He has a big wound on his head, though, and it is bleeding heavily.
Before I say anything, he says, “Shhhh! Don’t move a muscle!” The bird demon is still sniffing around the remains of the trade stand, and his beak comes awfully close to touching me. It senses me and prepares to strike, but is knocked aside by something larger than it is. A large dog-like beast has the demon pinned to the ground, snarling in its face. The beast is huge, bigger than a house. It has chestnut fur, pointed ears, and glistening red eyes. It has large teeth, each one a sharp fang. Wrapped around its legs and neck are large shackles attached to enormous chains coated with rust. When I try to find where the chains come from, I fail. They seem to go on and fade away into the atmosphere, as if they were some part of a ghost.
The beast growls with rage and clamps its teeth on the demon’s neck, tossing it around as if it were a massive chew toy. It then goes on to throw the demon down onto the pavement, turning the fearsome demon into a pile of sticky black blood, flesh, and feathers.
Both Alastair and I stare at our savior in astonishment. My heart beats quickly with fear, or maybe excitement. Could this be another demon? If so, why did it bother saving us? It slowly walks up to us, sniffing around the rubble where we stand. Its enormous moist black nose comes close to me, taking in my scent. Its crimson eyes display a gentle calm, as if it is trying to tell us that it means no harm. I place my hand on its muzzle, gently stroking the soft, thick fur. It is so warm and it feels like velvet.
Alastair hesitantly does the same, a smile creeping onto his face. I can tell that he is grateful to this creature for saving our lives. However, the demon unfortunately isn’t finished yet. When one goes after prey, it doesn’t stop until it has it.
The mass of flesh that was once the foul demon shudders, and it catapults into the air, letting out another screech. I notice something flying towards us from over the wall; more of the same breed of demon. The dog-beast growls, teeth bared. In an instant, the beast lunges forward, gripping the demon in its massive maw. This time, it intends to finish what it started, and tears at its flesh with razor sharp claws.
Defenseless, we have no better idea than to run, but I feel guilty about leaving our savior behind. It is enormous, and perfectly capable of fighting all these demons at once; I count seven total. But, I run, my feet pounding on the pavement, by breathing heavy. Alastair is leading me, his hand holding my wrist with a tight grip. And then, in a blur of black feathers, I am now lying on the ground, staring at the sky. Everything happens so quickly that I barely recall what happens. My arm stings for a moment and then goes numb; I can’t even move it. It must be broken. My head throbs and blood pours from a large wound on my side, and the various scratches on my limbs. My crimson blood stains the cream colored cobblestones, a puddle soon forming around me. My heart pounds with panic; I’ve never seen so much blood, and it frightens me to know that it is my own.
Am I going to die? I think, staring at the evening sky. It glows a bright mixture of reds and oranges as the sun sets on the horizon. This may be my last sight. But then I think of Alastair, and I am horrified by what I see. He is lying face up, his eyes glassy, staring blindly at the sky. Blood pours from his head wound; anymore and he will definitely be dead soon. The demon is standing over him, staring into his eyes, almost as if it were trying to hypnotize him. Something is flowing out of him; not just blood. It is transparent, with a pure white hue. It comes from his skin in a foggy veil of this strange substance. It flows from him straight into the mouth of the demon.
I know what it is doing; what all demons do: steal souls. I try to get up, to shoo the vile beast away before it can finish the foul deed. I stumble to my feet and clumsily run towards him, but I only manage a few steps before I slip on my blood and land face first next to his body. The ground rumbles as the dog-beast runs towards us and throws the demon off of Alastair. Now I know what made that noise earlier. It rips the demons flesh open and slices it so many times with its claws. The strange part is that the demon isn’t fighting back.
I lift my head up and drag myself the rest of the way towards Alastair, placing my hand on top of his. It feels cold to the touch, but that could be caused by the frigid air. I call his name so many times, until I feel tears sting my eyes and blur my vision. It isn’t just tears that cloud it; blood loss is causing me to become dizzy. My head falls to the ground, my whole being weakened. I see the dog-beast rip a demon limb from limb, feathers flying everywhere, the chains clanging against each other.
I see a demon hover above me, only he doesn’t look like the others. He appears more humanoid, with silver hair and cold, dragon-like eyes. He has horns protruding from the top of his head. He wields a spear with a sharp blade. He places a hand over my sickly body and mutters some type of incantation. I feel strange, as if my entire being is being led from the safety of my body to his hand. The same substance I saw the bird demon stealing from Alastair. Now I know that this is my end.
My vision fills with black spots as my consciousness begins to fade into nothing. The last thing I hear is the howl of the dog-beast and something tight wrap around my wrists, ankles, and my neck.
A woman’s voice echoes inside my mind before I slip away.
“Do not worry, child. Your soul is safe.”
“Who are you?” I speak in my mind.
“You may call me Kali…” It replies before I succumb to darkness.