Servant of Sana - Part I

The forest had fallen silent, the stillness broken only by the soft squish of wet moss under Vret’s paws. He lowered his snout down to a root; dots of red stained its rough surface. The scent of blood filled his mouth with saliva, but he swallowed and snorted the smell out of his nose. He had to keep the wolf’s instincts at bay.

Vret walked onwards, following the smell and the dots of blood. Behind him the other hunters followed, Bhair trailing right on his heels. The others had forms bigger and stronger than his; even Bhair’s hunting form, a fellow wolf, stood taller than him. Luckily his wolf form had the best nose, otherwise he would’ve been useless.

“Vret, stop.” Bhair walked next to Vret, fur bristling, ears flat. “The deer’s headed for a cursed place.”

Another hunting party had passed the area months ago and noticed the change. The feel of the woods was wrong: the wind died there, animals were quiet, and a foul stench wafted through the air.

One of the trees surrounding a little clearing now housed a demon. A summoner who served the God of Death Vixi had stamped the being there, a trap for powerful shapeshifters. But Vret wasn’t powerful.

“The demon won’t bother with me.” He broke into a run before they could stop him. Broken branches and faint tracks led him on a winding trail. The deer had faltered; he’d find it lying down soon. Then he could finish the animal and drag it back.

Silence deepened around him. The smell of rot mixed with and soon overpowered the scent he followed. Vret stopped, the green streak of fur on his back bristling. The deer had bed near a willow in the clearing that opened before him. Its sides were still, the fur matted with dark blood, a gloss had slid over its dark eyes.

Though an eerie feel permeated the clearing, nothing outright threatened him. Vret slunk nearer to the dead deer. Ears perked up, muscles tense he waited for a sign of the demon.

A rustle caught his attention. Vret froze. He drew breath, ready to call to the others, but the howl died; they wouldn’t step anywhere near the clearing.

Suddenly a bear ran from the bushes. Its eyes darted between Vret and the carcass. Vret sought the few words of bear he knew, but found only insults. Calling the bear a stumpy clawed flatfoot would only anger the animal.

The bear rose, a throaty roar bursting from its maw. Vret stood still. He looked at the deer, and then at the bear. The kill belonged to him. A growl rumbled in his throat; hackles raised he spoke to the insolent animal.

Mine.

The bear lunged forwards. Its round taloned paw arched through the air and struck Vret’s shoulder. He staggered back, tail between his legs, head held low. The bear attacked again, striking the side of his head. The edge of his sight blurred, and he stumbled backwards. A piece of moss slid loose beneath Vret’s foot, causing him to tumble onto his side.

Carrion breath filled the air, teeth pressed against his neck. He let out a whine, a plea of mercy. The bear’s jaws snapped shut. Vret fell limp and slid over the roots of a pine.

The bear sniffed his face for a moment, but soon lost interest. It lumbered over to the deer carcass and began dragging it into the woods.

Vret drew a wheezing breath. He yelped as the bones in his neck began dragging into place. His magic healed him, but too slowly. Blood trickled down his face and neck; with each beat of his heart his magic and strength fled. As his magic faded, his body reverted back to his true form. Fur slid beneath pink skin, claws softened into fingers, and jaws shrank back into a human mouth.

Vret closed his eyes. He looked inwards into a time when Enna still lived. He’d lost the scent of a boar and tracked her instead; she’d burst out laughing when he told her. Later at the village she’d sought him out.

Vret gritted his teeth as the pain of losing her mingled with the pain of dying. Tears ran down his cheeks, disappearing into the blood. He drew another rasping breath, hoping it would be his last.

A movement caught Vret’s eye, but turning his head hurt too much. Coarse hands cupped his jaw. Elongated fingers webbed over his face and lifted it upwards. A blunt snout split into a toothless smile. Above thick bark-like skin stretched where the demon’s eyes should have been. A needled, dark-green mane ran along its back to the pine trunk where the demon still connected to the tree.

I am Sana. I can heal you… if you become mine. The words caressed his fading mind. His wounds began to knit shut, and the pain eased for a moment.

Survival, within his reach.

“No.” He spoke the words quickly, the answer he had been taught to give. Doubt circled his mind; demons made shapeshifters stronger, but enslaved their victims, slowly corrupting their nature. “I won’t betray my kin.”

I can wait for another one to wander here, but you… The demon twisted Vret's head, sending pain running along his neck. Its fingers held his mouth shut, muffling his scream. You will die. I can make you powerful. I can help you aid your kin.

He then saw his village, the small buildings, children darting between them, changing their form midrun to climb to a roof. One of the children disappeared amidst the trees. The vision followed the child as she jumped over roots and stones. Midjump she changed into a fox. Her tiny feet sent up puffs of dust as she shook off her clothes and darted onwards.

The little girl led Vret’s thoughts to his daughter, a talented shapeshifter unlike her father. Inis would be alone as well as his son Deri. Reet and her partner would care for them, but—

A shrill barking jolted him back to the demon’s vision. The child had backed against a rock, wolves surrounded her. Hackles raised they drew nearer to the child who pressed against the stone.

See what you could do with my help.

A roar drowned the shapeshifter child’s urgent calls for help. Branches parted as a monster emerged. Its skin bore resemblance to the scaly bark of a pine, and a dark green mane of needles ran down its back and along a thick tail.

The monster sprung forwards and grabbed a wolf with its elongated claws. The creature’s green eyes glinted with delight as its hand grasped the squirming and whining wolf. Slowly it tore the screaming animal in two.

The other wolves had fled. The shapeshifter child stood frozen for a moment, then darted in the direction of the village.

That could be you. Your kin may scorn you, but you could still protect them. The demon’s fingers pressed against his face. Tainted magic spread from them. With each moment he grew stronger. He could change into a big wolf, a bear, even a fool’s dragon.

Vret opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue didn’t move and his jaw hung slack. Numbness coated his body. The world began to fade, colors blurring into each other. His body began breaking under the strain of his magic fighting the demon. Pain dragged him unconscious as his feeble magic became part of the demon’s, devoured by the greater power.

MarchMadness Blog Challenge 4

Wet moss squished beneath Vret’s bare feet as he walked towards the edge of the woods. The branch of a willow pressed against his arm, leaving behind dots of moisture on his sleeve. He stopped, before him opened a clearing. The one where he’d met his demon.

She’d found him half-dead, offered to heal him if he allowed her to possess him. When her finger trailed along his skin he’d felt power course through him. His wounds had knit themselves shut and the pain faded for a moment. Then his own magic had begun to fight the demon’s.

His mind had blurred from the mix of pain and pleasure, but he must have spoken for he woke with the demon beneath his skin.

“You yearned for me to end your existence as a weakling.” Her words from his mouth jolted him from his thoughts. ”We are both stronger now.”

“Yes, we are.” He’d cheated death and the strongest form he could take was no longer a mere wolf, but a nightmarish creature this world did not bear. He had to bow to Sana’s will, but becoming a strong puppet was better than being weak and free.

MarchMadness Blog Challenge 3

Vret bowed his half-changed head before the bigger shapeshifter. A hand settled on the back of his neck. Fingers entangled with his hair and the remnants of a mane, a quick tug pulled his head back.

“Sana, couldn’t you curb your vengeance for a little while longer?” Brell stared through his eyes and into the demon’s. “Vret’s too weak to resist. It had to be you.”

Beneath his skin he felt his demon writhing. Sana’s curses echoed through his mind, her anger rang through the words he spoke: “She says she will rip your head off if you ask her again.”

“Then answer me Vret, what were either of you thinking?” Brell released his grip. His hand lifted to his temple. “Our task was to expose the cruelty that takes place within those walls.”

“We were successful.” Sana bared his teeth into a snarl.

“Your former tribe mate saw it all.” His demon shrunk beneath the tone of Brell’s voice. “She also saw you drag that man here, unconscious, but alive. Now he’s not. See how you’ve risked our work?”

Vret swallowed hard, and then nodded.

“Good.” Brell slapped his hand onto his shoulder. “To redeem yourselves you’re going to back to the village. I have a new task for you two.”

MarchMadness Blog Challenge 2

The weak wind carried the scent of resin mixed with rotting leaves. Vret turned his face to the breeze, its sound mixing with the steady breathing of the prisoner. Leaves rustled as the king’s man shifted in his spell-induced slumber. The thought of toying with his former imprisoner crossed his mind, but he cast it aside.

But the demon had already decided.

His skin thickened and its tone changed into mottled greens. Pieces of cloth fell off his growing body as he stepped towards his prey. Leisurely his claws grabbed the human and slammed him against a pine, breaking the spell. The man’s mouth opened and closed in a silent plead.

Maw hanging open he breathed in the fear the human exuded. He needed more. Gently his demon pushed him aside.

“Little human.” The words flowed from his mouth, in his voice, but they belonged to the demon. “My puppet shall enjoy watching.”

Thick needles pierced the man’s skin, growing trough his flesh. The screaming would alert the hunting party. They’d take him away, keep him alive for questioning. No, his fate does not belong to them. The tip of his claw rested on the man’s throat for a moment before piercing it.

MarchMadness Blog Challenge 1

Timony Souler has a new blog challenge again. Take a look at the prompts on her blog. Didn't have much time to write, but I managed to scrape this up.

The cell door opened with a groan. Vret lifted his eyes from a rat to the man who entered: he bore the King’s insignia on his clothes and in his hands he held scroll and a phial.

“I was possessed by a demon.” Vret’s mouth moved slowly, the poison he’d been forced to drink sapping away his strength. “A greater one.”

The man shoved the scroll into the shapeshifter’s hands. “Verannian law dictates that a shapeshifter must prove they were not aiding the demon.”

“No one can.” He shook his head feebly. “Some would allow a demon to possess them for power, but not I.”

“Your fate is sealed, shapestealer.” The stopper of the phial came free with a pop. Steps echoed in the small cell.

“Please, no! Mercy—”

The king’s man wrenched the shapeshifter’s mouth open. A growl warned him before Vret’s teeth sunk into his hand.

“Thought I was weak and helpless?” Vret’s hands curled around the man’s throat. He fell limp, sliding onto the floor where the rat still stood.

Vret knelt down. He placed a finger beneath the rat’s snout and lifted her eyes to him. ”They would have killed me. Tell the others what you saw.”

GhoulsGalore: Damnation

This week's entry to Lady Antimony's GhoulsGalore challenge.

Clawed fingers caressed the black rock; it was alive, heat emanating from the red veins. Fire ran through the walls, floor and the arching roof. The blue sky was unknown here in the chthonic realm.

He could hear the damned begging for mercy while his servants shepherded them onwards. Their pleas would quickly change into the beautiful music of screaming. He hurried on, eager to witness his loyal minions at work.

Slowly he walked past the pits were the sinners burned, and the sight he most enjoyed watching: his favourite demon hunting down and eating the damned. The demon would later regurgitate the poor souls and eat them again.

Yes, life was good in Hell.

Before he fell there had been Hell, but none to rule it. Demons fought each other while sinners ran amok. He cast the sinners down. He defeated the droves of demons. He became the overlord of the underworld. He might have fallen, but he rose as a master.

“What does God have but wisps of air, placid happiness and feeble servants?” Lucifer folded his leathery wings around himself. Loud snoring filled the air.

Friday Flash: Ashes and Embers

Second to last. Continuation to The Trap.

The shapeshifter child sat huddled against a corner, the only thing left of the burnt house. Ashes and the smell of sulphur floated in the surrounding air. Somewhere a woman laughed: a shrill sound, cutting through the heavy silence. His hands lifted to shield his ears, but he could still hear her.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Something was circling the corner and him. Claws scraped against wood behind him. Before he could bolt, something heavy hit his back, pinning him down against the sooty earth.

“Please don’t kill me.” He whispered, he could feel the breath of the creature upon his face.

“Is death the worst you can think of?” The creature’s claws slipped beneath his skin. His sense of self began to slip away as the demon imposed it’s will upon his. He screamed in fear and agony.

A sharp jab to his side woke him.

“If I can’t sleep, why should you?” His partner Nuria stood beside him, her foot nudging him. “Awake, are we?”

“I wasn’t sleeping, I was having a nightmare.” Fain lifted himself into a sitting position. He could still feel the demon’s claws beneath his skin. “Thank you for waking me up.”

“You’re welcome.” She sat down next to him, placing a dusky hand on his pale arm. “The burning houses again?”

“They were burnt down this time and I heard a woman laughing.” He shivered at the memory. “And one of the demons possessed me.”

She gently pulled him close, running her fingers through his hair as she whispered comforting words. Yet they weren’t enough to calm him.

“I am afraid.” He looked up into her eyes, wrought with worry. “I’ve began to jump when I see my own shadow. I can’t protect the dragons if I am terrified all of the time.”

“I’m worried about you, dear. Not just your nightmares.” He tried to turn his gaze away, but her hands cupped his chin, holding his face to hers. “Jark’s words shouldn’t have angered you so—”

“He called the black dragons evil!” He wrenched himself free from her arms, grabbed some clothes and walked into the other room, dressing quickly.

She followed on his heels. “He angered you on purpose! He wants you exiled because he hates you!”

“I know, I ran headfirst in to his trap.” Fully dressed now, Fain was headed for the door. His hands were about to pull it open when Nuria’s arms wrapped around his waist. She lifted him off his feet and proceeded to half drag, half carry him back into the bedroom.

“You are not going anywhere. We wait for the Elders’ decision here!” She dropped him on the furs that acted as a bed. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for your temper.”

”Forget about Jark the Jerk, for a moment.” Fain stood up, black scales covered his throat and his teeth had grown in to fangs. “What if I’m remembering my past? How can I stop it? If my childhood was demons and torture I do not want to know. Please help me forget somehow!”

Nuria stepped forwards, one hand held his cheek while the other trailed the black scales. He saw her flinch at the heat emanating from the scales; there was some of the fire of the dragons in him. His eyes closed, the fangs retracted into stubby human teeth and the scales began to fade.

“If they do exile me, we’ll just go to my village.” He opened his eyes slowly, pondering his next words. “You are still coming with me?”

“How do you dare?” She gently slapped his cheek. “Of course I am coming with you! I love you, you rarfnigan.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Fain placed a finger on her lips.

“I do not want to dwell on it or my nightmares any more than necessary, my love.” He gazed for a moment into her dark brown eyes, then kissed her. Her arms curled around him so tightly that he gasped; “Can’t breathe dear.”

A knock on the door interrupted their moment. Nuria broke the embrace and walked to the door, while Fain waited in the shadow of a corner.

Lizell stood there; she’d donned a tall human’s form, but with a rainbow of feathers instead of hair.

“Fain of the Leatherwing Tribe, the Elders have decided your punishment. You are forbidden to take the fool’s dragon form within the village unless it is under attack.” She rolled her yellow eyes up, then back to Fain. ”If you do not comply, you will be exiled.” The shapeshifter grinned a wicked smile. “Don’t worry, Jark got punished as well. He’ll be cleaning the dragon nests.”

“He should’ve been sent to the black dragons’ nesting grounds.” He ran a dark claw along his throat, leaving behind a white scar, which healed as he drew it. “They would have had fun with him.”

“Fain, keep you darker side in check.” Lizell shook her head. ”Most of us care for you. We don’t want to see you exiled.”

Jark held the little brown bird close to his mouth as he whispered his message.

“Tell this to the Queen and she will reward you, little virra.”

“Double what you gave me?” The bird squeaked.

“Even more, but do not gossip, though it is your second nature. The Queen does not like her plans spilled.” The bird flew off into the dark sky, disappearing without a trace.

The Elders wouldn’t exile Fain, but he had another plan. The Queen had sent virras to shapeshifter villages, requesting strong shapeshifters for her studies; if the rumours were true they included demons. He was only glad to oblige.

Once Fain and the others set for the nesting grounds, the Queen’s men would intercept them and capture him, and only him.

Silent as a shadow he sneaked back into the village.

DiceGames: Vixi's Promise

This is my second entry to Lady Antimony's DiceGames challenge. You throw a dice and look up the corresponding prompt from Lady Antimony's list. For this week, I rolled number one: “Sometimes it's easier just to let them die...”

P.S. Number 17 is an unlucky number in Italy because XVII can be rearranged to "VIXI", which means “I have lived” (implying “I am dead”) in Latin. That's where Vixi's name comes from.

“The deity promised me power.” The mage’s voice was taut with apprehension. “He spoke nothing of skeletal demons.”

Lheyr stared from somewhere beyond the empty eye sockets. The demon cocked his horned head a little; humans were so impatient, especially the ones who already had power. “Think of me as your guide through this process.”

“Process?” The mage’s fingers curled into fists, knuckles whitening. “Speaking to your god was hard enough. I prayed in his temple every day for 17 years before he answered. What more is there?”

“You need to tap into demonic magic.” A bony hand lifted as the demon touched its rib, just where the heart would have been. “Vixi is the god of death, but he is also the lord of demons. Our power is his power.”

The mage fell silent, his face obscured by the shadow of his hood. Yet Lheyr could sense apprehension and fear. Ribs expanded as the demon drew air, a memory of the time it had been human. Like the mage, Lheyr had prayed to Vixi for power and received it. The difference between him and the lesser demons was that he knew how to use that power.

Yes, he wielded power ruthlessly; even the other skeletal demons cringed at his actions.

He waited for the mage to seek out demonic magic. Like the elements, it was there, you just needed to take hold of it. But unlike the elements you could cast any kind of spell with it. The only downside was that you turned into a demon in the end, but it was downside only to those afraid.

“Use it, feel the magic taint your soul,” he whispered.

Lheyr watched the mage flinch as he felt the touch of evil magic, but he continued on; twin flames erupted from his palms, spreading darkness instead of light.

“More,” the demon spoke softly.

The flames grew, their darkness enveloped the mage, but Lheyr could still see him. Arms held out, head tilted slightly back, they were always dramatic.

The flames flickered.

“When—?“

“When I say you’re done. More power.” Lheyr began calling his own magic, drawing deep from the murky core of his being. Users of demonic magic didn’t turn into demons suddenly, there were stages. First you had nightmares; eventually the horrors of the demonic world would become reality. The last stage before the change was the most frightful; demons could see the unwary user of their magic and begin dragging him or her into the demonic world.

The mage flinched as another skeletal demon touched his arm with a clawed finger. Perhaps this one would cross of his own free will.

But the flames died abruptly.

“This is not what I asked for! I will not become a demon for the sake of power!”

Lheyr stood still, hollow eye sockets staring at the outraged mage. Everyone knew Vixi’s promises came at a price, but how high, they couldn’t possibly foresee.

“The pact must be honoured.” Lheyr’s arms lifted, fingers reaching towards the mage, then twisting back as he stole away the hapless man’s life force.

“Fight me! Turn into a demon or die!” Lheyr’s bony jaws twisted into a smile. “Either way the master shall have you!”

“I will not become like you.” The mage called on his own magic, fire sparked between his hands growing into a ball of flames. Lheyr scoffed at the feeble display of power. Why did they always choose a flashy spell? All pomp and no power got you killed when facing a demon.

“The strongest demons are second only to the gods themselves. You want power, become one of us!”

The mage threw the flame, striking Lheyr in the face, but the demon continued on, ignoring the soot on its skull. It continued on sapping the life from the mage, bit by bit, and scattered it to the four winds. A demon did not require life force, it fed on pain and despair.

One final time he repeated the offer, “Join us.”

“No.” The mage whispered. He crumpled down into an unmoving heap. Lheyr nudged the corpse with a clawed toe. No reaction. Another skeletal demon, this one resembling a snake with bony arms and an oxen head, stared at him.

“Son, tell the missus that we don’t need prey. Another one died.” The demon crossed his arms. “I looked forward to teaching possession to a new demon.”

Lheyr would stand vigil until his god raised the mage from the dead. Vixi would have a new servant and the mage would have power, the pact would be honoured, though not as the mage had intended. Lheyr sighed and shook his head; sometimes it was just easier to let them die.