FIREFANGED: Demon in Exile

by Rory Surtain

  “Cat, you know Ara was just asking me about you and if you were okay after seeing him yesterday in such bad shape. I think he was terrified that you would be upset and angry with him. He had been through such a bad ordeal, and he fought so hard to make it back home, knowing that you would want him to be okay.”

  The Pastor had laid it on a bit thick, but it worked on both Cat and me. Even my eyes got wet, and before I knew it, Cat had wrapped both her arms around my neck and was sobbing into my new shirt.

  I used my uninjured arm to hold her, and I told her that I was sorry for what had happened and that I wouldn’t let it happen again. I promised. At least a quarter-hour had passed before she calmed down.

  I had nowhere to go.

  She got up and stood with Pastor Riley. “See you tomorrow?” I asked.

  She nodded, her eyes still red. “But don’t think for a minute that I’ve forgiven you, Ara.”

  I gave her the look of one well chastened, trying hard not to smile.

  “Cat, I need to speak with your father on an urgent matter, if he has some time today,” Pastor Riley said as he led her from my little room.

  Exhausted, I lay in bed listening to their footsteps recede down the stairs and out the door.

  Chapter 3

  Vigil’s Mark

  Four weeks later, as the last of the gray-clad soldiers marched out of our city's eastern gate, the crowd began to disperse. Corey trotted off, heading back to work at his father’s blacksmith shop. Suddenly, I heard the small shrill voice of my friend Cat from behind me, “Ara! Run for it! Run!”

  I quickly spun to the left just as a big pair of hands clamped on my arm. My knees buckled as rough fingers dug into my left forearm, pressing into a savage-looking scar and the poorly healed bone beneath.

  “The Lord Mayor asked to see you boy,” said Hector Sims from above me. “He’s got company and doesn’t want to be kept waiting.”

  Hector was, in my opinion, an over-bearing goon for the little city of Lockrun. Lately, he’d used my weakened condition to exact a bit of revenge, though for what I couldn’t say.

  My vision blurred from the pain, not from any tears that might have been leaking from my eyes, I swear.

  Cat stood nearby as Sims and one of his helpers were lifting me off the ground, keeping my arms well locked behind my back. She laid into them verbally with everything she had as they dragged me away, but there was nothing she could do to stop them. The scene might have gotten more attention from passersby if it hadn’t played out a few too many times before. For the life of me, I couldn’t comprehend why it was happening again now. I was still on the mend and had been staying well out of the Bailiff’s way.

  Lockrun had a square that fronted the Mayor’s house on one side and our church and rectory on the other. A public well and fountain adorned the center of the open area. Not one to waste time, Hector crossed the square and dunked me headfirst into the water basin.

  “You need a bath before you see the Mayor,” he said.

  While I may have agreed on my need for a bath, Hector’s definition of a bath and mine were slightly different. His version was mostly holding my head underwater while I thrashed around, trying to break free. He was just smart enough to pull me out before I puked into the fountain. Folks would’ve frowned upon that.

  Then onward, I was dragged to Mayor Ramsey’s mansion where Hector and his henchman kindly dropped me inside on the floor of the large council meeting room. Cat was locked outside the meeting room, and I heard her run off soon after.

  I want to be clear that I have no problem with authority, but the room was full of it. On that late afternoon, it might have been more than I could stand in my pain-filled, involuntarily wet condition. Regardless, Hector Sims hauled me to my feet and presented me to the Lord Mayor. I saw a dozen others in the room, many of which had arrived in Lockrun with the troops.

  “Hector, bring him a towel. He’s dripping all over the floor, and I can’t introduce him like this,” barked the Mayor. The fact that many in the room were also a bit shocked by my wet, disheveled presence eased my mood a bit. And then I spotted Pastor Riley, looking ashen, hiding in the back corner of the room, and I finally guessed at the reason for my current ordeal.

  “This isn’t a trial or anything of the sort, Ara. We have a few gentlemen here to meet you and size you up, so to speak,” said the Mayor.

  Yea, right.

  “All, I would like to present Ara — uh just Ara, a young and industrious member of our town. He is an orphan that lives under the care of the local Church and our community.”

  I care for myself and my community. Let’s be straight about that.

  As a well-dressed man in gray stepped forward, the Mayor continued, “Ara, please meet Warden Hartwell of the Order of the Vigil. He has come here from the city of Berykholt.”

  The Mayor paused in expectation, and I gave the man, the Warden, a small bow, hoping to start things off on the right foot. Then he continued, “Warden Hartwell is the direct commander of all the Order’s troops in the contingent that arrived today. Next to him, is Paladin Byrne, also an honored member of the Order, and behind Paladin Byrne is Inquisitor Loeb.”

  Paladin Byrne dressed the part in a massive set of shiny plate armor and chain-mail. He carried a sizeable two-handed axe on this back and looked like he was ready to go a few rounds with anyone at a moment’s notice. I pegged him at a robust six-four and looked up to him with respect after offering another short bow.

  Loeb stepped up, and I could see he didn’t partake in things martial. A man of average height, he wore plain, comfortable riding clothes, and his gaze was one of intense scrutiny. It felt like he could see right into my soul, and I didn’t like it one bit. Loeb reached out his hand as if in greeting, and I froze. Literally. Unable to move a muscle. Not so much as blink.

  For a good ten seconds, I did nothing, while my mind spun and pulled, trying to regain control of my body. Loeb looked at me with a question and a glowing sheen of sweat on his forehead. Unable to breathe, I began to count in my head, allowing that simple mental movement to calm me. It helped me to consider the point of this. It could be a test of power and control, or maybe he just wanted to scare me a bit. Fortunately, I don’t scare easily. I once offered my arm to a night beast so that I might stab him in the ear, and I still have the fang to prove it.

  I wasn’t about to stab Loeb or try anything else so drastic. Instead, I continued to count on steadily in my mind, and on every beat, I told myself to nod. I intended to nod. Still, nothing happened on my side of the encounter, but on Master Loeb’s face, I could see a painful effort begin to take shape. I could see his eyes starting to dilate, and his jaw clenched tightly. He wasn’t breathing now either, as if another breath at this point would suddenly break his concentration or control. It was time I switched my intention away from simply nodding and add emotion to the scale. As I reached a count of forty-seven, I smiled, with both purpose and feeling. Loeb suddenly lost his grip and stepped back.

  My first action was to take a deep breath or three. “Well, that was fun,” I said, feeling more than a bit drained by the effort. My second action was to gauge all the faces in the room. Most held a look of confusion, as if they’d missed something, while others showed worry or, in Inquisitor Loeb’s case, irritation mixed with surprise.

  And it was at this point that the clouds parted in the room, as a tall, well-dressed, and surprisingly well-armed man stepped forward. The Mayor introduced me to the esteemed Vigil Snow.

  The Vigil was an aging yet powerful presence. To me, it felt like suddenly meeting the King. I mean, I had never met the King, but it had to be like that, right? My knees almost buckled as I bowed to him, unable to meet his eyes, and well, I felt the need to lie down on the floor for a bit anyway. Here was a man with such a strength of rightness and authority that he must be the center of all that was happening today and would happen for months, if not years to come. I’m not sure that even makes sense, but it’s what I fel
t at the time.

  It was a bit of a shock when Snow spoke in a soft but commanding voice, “Ara, please remove all of your clothes.”

  Okay, I didn’t see that coming.

  After another count of ten on my part, Inquisitor Loeb stepped forward and said in a respectful tone, “Please, this is necessary.”

  I had already taken note that there weren’t any women present in the room, so I stripped. Hey, I’m easy that way. My wet clothes hit the floor, and I was left wearing nothing but an eye-grabbing fang held by a black leather cord around my neck. Master Loeb began to examine me every which way and even asked for the beast’s tooth. As things were, I handed it over. It was almost six inches long and might have belonged to an enormous lion. Loeb sniffed it and grinned. Then nodded to Snow.

  “What happened to your arm?” Vigil Snow asked, presiding over the room.

  “I won a fight with a mountain lion,” I said. “We had a difference of opinion on who was going to be taking my catch home late one night last month. I had to sell the pelt to pay for the doctor, but I got to keep its tooth for good luck.”

  “You find this mangled arm to be lucky?” Loeb asked as he continued his inspection. “I can see that it needs to be reset, and it must be causing you a great deal of pain. Frankly, I’m surprised you survived that wound, or I should say wounds. You must have bled near to death.”

  “Have you met a mountain lion? I’ve got to say I feel fortunate that I can still feel pain after the encounter, and well, I’ve always been a strong healer.”

  “And where are your parents?” continued Snow.

  “My mom left me sitting in the church here in Lockrun and said she’d be right back. That was about ten years ago. I never knew my father. Pastor Riley and Sister Kay have cared for me since, though I pay my way these days.”

  At this point, Loeb interjected, telling Snow: “My Vigil, he’s clean, somehow, and he hasn’t been claimed. Not a mark on him, besides all the fresh scars, of course.”

  “Do you understand what a Vigil is?” asked Snow.

  Noting my blank-faced expression, he continued, “A Vigil pays attention, always. We lead the fight against the Infernal enemy that assails us, the demon-kind that sprout like the plague throughout our Land. The King and his knights and his armies defend our Realm’s borders, but we protect what is within them. Throughout history, there are usually a dozen of us keeping watch over this Land. There are currently four Vigils alive today. Besides my company up here in the North, there is Vigil Stone in the West, Vigil Cinder in the South, and Vigil Thorn in the East. We are thinly spread and undermanned, though Vigil Thorn might disagree with that last. She is a formidable thorn in any demon’s side.

  “We are only accountable to the King; and yet, it is the King that defers to us in all things related to the defense of the Realm when the Dark Horde threatens. The Order of the Vigil and the Military follow our lead without question. That includes the Wardens and their Paladins, and the Knights-Marshal all.

  “A moon ago, from my castle in Berykholt, I sensed a shadow beginning to emerge in the Everest mountains north of Lockrun, and I sent fast riders to this area to investigate. They were carrying devices that would absorb the essence of the void. After three hard days of riding up into the hills, northeast of Lockrun, these devices turned black and cracked, confirming an outbreak of evil. One of my men, Sentinel Glenn, stopped in this city to talk with the good Pastor Riley about anything unusual happening around here lately. What did you say, Pastor? That you were expecting our visit? Your confidence humbles me.”

  Pastor Riley just nodded at that, still not wanting to meet my eye.

  “And so, Master Glenn returned with a tale of an orphaned teen in Lockrun. A young man that had confessed to this Pastor that he could smell evil to the northeast. A boy who rarely sleeps but has dreams of an evil coming to feast upon his friends and his city. A boy who claims to have fought and killed a mountain lion while he was out hunting one night.”

  “Are you suggesting that I didn’t kill it?” I cut in. “I’ve been wearing the pain of that fight for a month, and now I’ve got a total stranger calling me a liar. Are you calling me a liar?” I raised my voice.

  Let’s face it: pain and humiliation make me edgy.

  “Yes, yes, I am,” Snow replied carefully. “Besides being able to sense and fight Hell’s minions, a Vigil usually has an ability that we call clear sight, which allows us to see the truth in things, in someone’s words. We also have extremely skilled and observant resources such as Doctor Loeb here or Sentinel Glenn, who is standing just behind you.”

  I hadn’t even noticed anyone behind me in the room, but there he was, giving me a small wave over my left shoulder. I could see Sentinel Glenn was dressed for a fight, with thick leathers and a suitable two-headed axe strapped across his back.

  After a pause, Snow continued, “Doctor Loeb, based on your examination of Ara and his exotic tooth, did our young friend here kill a mountain lion?”

  “No. No, I didn’t,” I confessed quietly.

  I knew now that I was dead, so I figured I’d at least confess and cleanse myself one final time and meet my end on solid ground. The verdict was coming in any time now. I could feel it.

  “Ara, please tell us the real story, as I'm sure all of us here are very interested in what truly happened,” said the Vigil.

  “Forgive me for misleading you, Pastor Riley, but it wasn’t a mountain lion. It was something else. The beast was hairless and dark, and its eyes glowed a deep reddish-orange. Its breath stank of sulfur and rot. I had sensed it a ways off to the north that evening, maybe a mile or two out, and even though I was sure that I was downwind of it, the beast was tracking straight towards me and Lockrun. I was afraid that if it could sense me so readily, then it would surely scent Lockrun in the distance and go there next.

  “So, I laid my strongest snare trap and used my blood as bait. The trap worked, and I had it around the neck, mostly hanging from my rope under a tall oak. But it didn’t hesitate to attack me, lashing out with its back claws. I gutted the beast with my hunting knife as I tried to dodge its claws. It should have been a quick clean kill too, but it didn’t die like a regular animal, not like a real lion. This thing was smart, and it worked on breaking the trap line even while it threw its claws at me. I jammed a spike into one of its back feet and another into its eye, and it gave me as good as it got, shredding my back and my thigh.

  “It finally severed the trap-line as I was moving in for the kill. It moved animal fast, faster even, lunging forward and biting for my neck. I blocked upward as hard as I could with my left arm while I moved to the right. Then as its mouth clamped down on my arm, I plunged my hunting knife through its ear. It collapsed on top of me, dead. Its fang had gone clean through my arm, and I had to cut it from its mouth to get free from the dead beast. It took me a few hours, but I staggered the five miles back to town.”

  Stunned silence greeted my words. I was expecting disbelief, but Vigil Snow finally conveyed a look of satisfaction, and I felt the mood shift to pity in the rest of the room.

  Eventually, Loeb handed back my necklace, “Here’s your demon tooth. Still smells like the Kjaira you killed. Beware of its sisters, for they will surely have you marked.”

  What the Feth did that mean?

  “Shall we proceed, Inquisitor Loeb?” Vigil Snow prompted, “We now have a testimony of his vigilance, fortitude, and skill against the dark creatures that threaten this Land. As Vigil, I move to claim.”

  “Seconded my esteemed Vigil,” came the reply along with a deep bow from Loeb. “Sentinel, Bailiff, please secure our man.”

  “Claim what?” I said, just as my arms were locked in place and I was wrestled to the ground.

  From there, I couldn’t see much of anything, but eventually, I could smell something cooking and hear a sizzle. Bacon perhaps? Then I realized that the bacon was me. They were branding my right shoulder blade with an iron so hot that I could barely feel it. The
n I was rolled over and received the same brand to my right breast. When they finished, I could see that the brand was a symbol of an eye inside a sun, like what the gray-clad soldiers wore on their shirts earlier in the day. The senses in my skin around the branding slowly came back to life. My captors let go of me and backed off. I sat up immediately, trying to keep any weight off my burned flesh. I hissed in a fury. It was like I had been pierced front to back by a flaming spear.

  My eyes were leaking again, so I stood, naked, shaking in pain, too shocked to speak. I found myself gripping the fang, willing the pain to subside. It was all I could do to survive the moment.

  “Your eyes leak like the rain, young man,” said Sentinel Glenn as he handed me a towel and some new pants and underclothes to wear. I didn’t think that I would be wearing a shirt anytime soon, if ever.

  “We have concluded,” spoke the Vigil. It seemed like a massive weight had lifted from his shoulders. Striding from the room, he gave one more command, as an afterthought. “Doctor Loeb, please break his arm.”

  Bar Sinister

  Lion tamer

  The sweet smell of burning flesh roamed around the room. The Infernal incense was milled from the freshly flayed flesh of a half-demon, the younger, the better. It fed a hunger in us that would never recede; So, we drank.

  “Your first title is within reach, Younger. You’re beginning to grow rapidly now, but you might need to slow down a bit before you split your skin,” enjoined Memet. “The wings of a Plague will arrive in their own time.”

  Recent pain-filled events across the Divide were feeding me power in amounts almost greater than I could absorb. “Firefanged now seems most fitting, and I must admit that my eagerness to comprehend the title fully consumes me.”

  “You aren’t a true hunter, as much as you are a warrior, so forget the hunt and focus on the fight ahead. It will bring you all that you need, and more, given the time to grow into it.”