FIREFANGED: Demon in Exile

by Rory Surtain

  Despite its age, the edge of the glaive was free of damage or defects. It reminded me of the sword from my vivid dream last month, the one raging in the dark bar. In my dream, it had been as thunderous as a berserk demon. Here in my hands, it was silent, almost cold, content.

  It was late in the evening as we scrutinized the items with Palypsos. My three guards waited back in my room. I had been patched up, and my body ached from misuse and fatigue. Still, I needed as much information as possible before heading home in the morning—home, funny that I never really used that word before, even during my life in Lockrun.

  I handed Palypsos my newfound glaive for a reading. He wasn’t going to pierce his ear with that three-inch wide blade. Instead, I held the hilt while he ran his thumb along one edge, carefully drawing a small amount of his blood. Again, we sat back and waited for him to breathe.

  “Hal-Noire, in Exile, beckons you forth,” commanded a wicked raspy voice.

  “And who is Hal-Noire?” I asked.

  “One you have defeated, Firefanged. An Infernal House gifted in Exile.”

  Firefanged. This time I didn’t jump. I was beginning to sense where this was leading.

  “Gifted to whom?” I asked.

  “Exile was given to you. Your House would not possess me otherwise.”

  “Gifted by who?”

  “The Master of the Infernal Cycle, to which you are bound.”

  Okay, I may have flinched at that remark. As far as I knew, I was bound to the Order of the Vigil.

  “What is Firefanged?”

  “Another gift. A title of the Exiled. Use it well before the Cycle turns…”

  At this point, the voice faded away.

  I stood, removing the sword from Palypsos’ grasp. He slowly awakened. We both did.

  Firefanged. An Infernal gift to an Infernal House of War. Feth.

  I looked over at Khamros, trying not to shake. “You understand any of that?” I asked, really hoping that he hadn’t.

  Palypsos answered, “It is quite simple. The sword’s name is Exile. I suspect that the Hellionic script stamped along the blade also denotes such. The glaive carries a powerful demonic prisoner of war by the name of Hal-Noire. I don’t recognize that name, but your Order might be able to assist further.”

  “Any idea why it was lying on that hell-portal altar? It didn’t seem to be a part of the ritual,” I prodded further.

  “Well, you are right about that. It’s purely an instrument of war,” Palypsos answered. “And it seems to me that it was placed there as a gift specifically for you.”

  A demon in Exile. It wasn’t a gift; it was a message.

  Returning to my room, I found Yseria waiting outside the door.

  “Yseria, I’m glad you are here. Will you be joining us on our trip back to Berykholt?”

  She leaned back against the door and looked up into my eyes. Her usual air of challenge had been replaced by uncertainty.

  “What is there for me in Colivar?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe a chance to find your place without all the challenges and duels that Bastian has to offer,” I countered.

  “And what would you know about that, Ara?” she said.

  “Lorna mentioned that you were the last of your line, but you aren’t that much older than me. We’re both houseless, and I know what it means to take on anyone or anything just to survive. I know what it’s like to feel disconnected, abandoned, not part of any place, or claimed by anyone else. But I also know that that can change.”

  “What changed for you? You still look like you’re just doing your best to survive,” she replied.

  “Well, you are right about that. I am surviving, sometimes not so well. If we get to know each other better, I might even show you some of my scars. I feel ashamed of them. I feel like I should have been better at defending myself or been treated better at times. But what has changed is that I now have a purpose and a calling in my life. And because of that, I'm no longer disconnected from others in a way that demands that I only survive.”

  “And what is your purpose?” she continued, searching for something.

  “To protect those that I love and respect. To protect those that I choose to bring into my life. Sure, I can perceive myself as only a weapon to kill demons, but I prefer to be more.”

  What was it about this dark elf that allowed my thoughts to flow so clearly?

  “What about you, Yseria? You, too, are a weapon, wielded by kings. Who do you protect?” I asked.

  “Myself. If I don’t, then no one will,” she answered honestly.

  “But it gets old, doesn’t it? It almost gets hard to breathe, sometimes just thinking about it,” I sighed. “Which brings me back to my original question. Will you be coming with us? No, wait, let me say that differently. Would you please come with me to Colivar? You would be under my protection, no matter what, just as I would be under yours.”

  After a moment, she pushed away from my door and looked down at her feet. Then she looked up again into my eyes and nodded silently.

  I checked in on my other two guards before getting some rest.

  “So, how’s your trip been so far?” I asked Gunner and Hicks. “Ready for the long hike back home?”

  “We’re good,” replied Gunner. “You look a little worse for wear, though. How’s your leg?”

  “They’ve sewed me up tight, and I’ve got clean bandages for the road. It’s my ribs that bother me the most. Most of my left side is one big bruise, and the doctor here thinks that at least one rib is broken. It hurts just to breathe right now,” I answered with a grin.

  “I think we’d be alright hanging out here for another day, don’t ya think?” offered Gunner. “We’d get some time to check out the sights.”

  Hicks explained, “And by sights, he means the dark elf women. Have you seen the way they move?”

  “Sure, and I’ve also seen how they fight. Not sure I’d like to date someone that can carve me up so easily if I get out of line,” I chuckled gently. “The good news is that we’ll have some company on the way back. Yseria will be joining us. She’s become my official bodyguard, as a favor from the King. She’ll be under my protection, same as you, so please keep your eyes and your hands to yourself.”

  Hicks blushed at the news after an elbow by Gunner.

  “Ha, I knew it!” I said. “While we’re on the road, please treat Yser like your sister. It might be difficult, but let’s not be too distracted by the gracefulness of her form.”

  Lorna was up with the dawn to see us off. Still nursing her wounds from the cave fight, she wanted to give me a message for her distant sister. She also offered us a dozen dark elves as an escort past the ring of demon caves to the south. We had cleared most of that area coming into Bastian, but no sense in taking a chance during our first day out. The demons had scattered in all directions, and the elves still had plenty of unleashed rogues to hunt down.

  Yser led the way, with zero complaints from the rest of us. Her dark leathers fit her body well, but I was just admiring the beautiful black blade strapped across her back. Well, most of the time, anyway.

  We cleared the first mountain pass with little talk. The rough terrain pounded incessantly on my damaged ribs, and all my efforts were focused on treading and breathing as carefully as possible. Our escort reversed back toward Bastian after about ten miles, and I could feel our small group relax a bit. We had at least four days of hiking ahead of us, and I wanted to build a few bonds on the way. As far as I could tell, the area around us was clear. No Hell-borne hunting parties were waiting in ambush. I called a brief halt.

  “By my estimate, we’ve got about ninety miles to go and most of a long day ahead of us. Any bets on whether we cover another twenty miles before making camp tonight?”

  Yseria just scoffed. Hicks and Gunner nodded her direction.

  “What she said,” smiled Hicks.

  “Perfect, Gunner, the goat, will take point and move out double-time. He’ll switch
with Hicks this afternoon. The rest of us will follow in a relaxed line. I’ll be on over-watch. Yseria will bring up the rear to make sure nobody is left behind. The first one to call a halt gets to sit the first watch tonight.”

  I had a feeling that that was going to be me.

  Another eight hours and close to thirty miles later, I called a halt just a few miles short of the narrow, wooded valley. We were all winded and tired, my jaw numb from clenching it so long. I picked a defensible spot near a large boulder at the base of a small hill. Hicks scavenged wood for a fire while Gunner hunted for a stream to refill our canteens. I claimed the first watch and rested with my back against one of the softer rocks. My left arm ached, my left side was on fire, and the calf of my right leg felt wet.

  Yseria sat down and began changing the bandage on my leg. We had both noticed the blood miles ago but had continued our fast march through the Everest mountains. The weather was cool and dry, helping us make terrific progress, and I was eager to make it back.

  “Thank you for helping me with that,” I said, handing her a clean wrap from my pack. “At this point, I'm not sure I could do it myself.”

  “Your breathing is uneven. How are your ribs?” she asked.

  “I’m hoping that if I sit completely still, they will stop complaining, but so far, no joy.”

  “Stand up for a moment and pull off your armor,” she said, as she finished wrapping my calf.

  “Okay,” I said, struggling to my feet. The wind was causing my weary eyes to water. “I think I’m gonna need some help with my armor.”

  I had layers of leather and mail to painfully remove and finally pulled up the left side of my undershirt. My skin was a canvas of purple and yellow and red. Yseria grabbed a jar of ointment from her pack and began applying it to my damaged side. It felt frigid, and after a moment, the shooting pain subsided to a dull ache. My breathing immediately relaxed.

  “Thank you for that,” I said, quickly pulling down my shirt and wiping my eyes.

  “It won’t work so well if you are active, so try not to move around too much tonight while you are on watch.”

  “When did you kill your first demon?” I asked, catching her off guard.

  She soon regained her balance and looked me in the eye. I’m not sure what she saw there, but she finally answered.

  “Last year, during our first battle at the Hell-gate cavern. I killed three demons, but it was all for naught. I was just trying to save as many companions as I could as we fought our way back out of that cave. We lost thirty elves that day, and I didn’t get so much as a scratch,” she answered. “Master Andarion lost his younger brother in the melee.”

  I could feel her deep rush of pain.

  “Yser, please forgive me for bringing it up, but what was his name?” I asked, knowing I might not get an answer.

  “Jordarion,” she sobbed. “Jordy. He saved me during the battle, trading his life for mine. How dare he,” she whispered, with tears rolling down her face.

  “You carry the deeper scars of battle much better than I,” I said, reaching out to take her hand. “To make up for my weakness, I’ll let you help me get back into my armor.”

  The following day, I decided on a more sensible pace. The game trails through the wooded valley and around the glacier made for easier going. We were also generally descending the second half of the day. When we camped that night, we found ourselves only thirty miles from home, and I was in much less pain than the previous evening. We were resting in our original ‘boulders below the broken cliff’ campsite. If only there was a ready stack of firewood, it would be perfect. A pack of wolves still roamed in the distance to the south of us, but I was more concerned about other sightings. I knew that there were plenty of caves on this side of the mountain range too.

  As usual, claiming the first watch, I tucked myself in next to the sleeping threesome to stay warm. Hicks would switch off with me a few hours before dawn. The wolf packed lingered in the area but didn’t move in our direction. They were quite insistent with their howling as if trying to scare up some prey. Suddenly, their call was answered by a distant twisted screech. Something vile had just come out of its cave, and it was time for me to hunt.

  Before leaving the comfort of our sheltered camp, I woke up Hicks. His eyes went wide at the otherworldly noise in the distance. I pointed to the top of the nearest boulder and quietly told him to take the watch.

  It was time to test Exile. I moved rapidly southward through the night; all pain was forgotten for the moment. The wolf pack had disappeared from the area along with any other prey. A mile from our camp, I heard the Hellion screeching and scrambling down the nearest hill. I stood on an open patch of ground, waiting for the demon. As the beast closed, I drew the glaive from its leather sheath.

  Oddly, the screeching suddenly stopped. I could hear it scampering down the hill, and then, there it was at the edge of my clearing, half-man, half-raptor. It looked me over with the head of an eagle, long talons pointing outward from each side. It must have been expecting someone else. The sight of me drew the beast into another screeching rage, and it charged forward.

  I side-stepped its beeline attack and swung Exile in a backhanded arc, cleaving off one of its talons at the shoulder. Before it could react, I brought the blade around and down through its head, bisecting its skull and ending its unnatural existence in these mountains. I watched as my broadsword absorbed the black blood coating the blade until it was perfect and pristine. The demon didn’t have any ears, so I plucked a few feathers for proof of the kill. It was on our side of the mountains, so I figured that I should get credit for it.

  Returning to camp, I found my three companions awake. Hicks waved to me from atop his rock. Gunner was stoking the fire while Yser did some stretching nearby.

  “Eager to get going?” I asked them. “Last day on the trail, if we get an early start, and we’ll be back with two days to spare before the promotion ceremony.”

  “And a barracks full of smelly recruits, which sounds quite wonderful right now if there’s still a bed with my name on it,” answered Gunner.

  “I hear ya,” I said. “So, which one of you is going to take the Alpha position at the promotion ceremony?”

  “Does it matter?” Hicks asked. “I mean, it’s Gunner’s for the taking, but being a Sentinel isn’t about how we measure up against each other, it’s how we measure up against Hell’s spawn.”

  “Well said, Brandon. And you’re right about Gunner. With his combination of speed and power, I don’t see any other recruit besting him. With a heavy axe, he would have matched up better than the dark elves against the lizard-men that we fought in that cave. Of course, there were some other demons there where you might have fared better than Gunner. The spider demons, for example, were an interesting challenge. They had legs, fangs, venom, and cunning, and they could run the ceiling as fast as I could run the floor. And twelve eyes. Did I mention their twelve eyes?”

  “No, but we saw their carcasses, or at least what was left of those,” said Gunner.

  “Another thing to point out,” I said, sitting down next to Yseria. “When we arrive in Berykholt, your records will officially reflect two demon kills each. When you graduate, you will be graduating to the rank of full-blooded Sentinel. Vigil Snow will likely be confirming you as part of the promotion ceremony.

  “What does it mean he will confirm us?” Hicks had a sharp mind for details.

  “Well, he will examine you and officially confirm your demon kills and your status as a full Sentinel.”

  “He can confirm that we killed a demon just by looking at us?” asked Gunner.

  “Well, I can see that you have, so I’m sure that he can as well. He might ask you to confirm it verbally first, as he can see the truth in another person’s words,” I explained. “Killing a demon changes you. You both look different, cleaner, sharper to my eyes. I assume that is why the Order makes the distinction between full Sentinel and Sentinel-Adept, but I still don’t underst
and all the nuances.

  “One last thing that you need to know: Yseria here has killed three demons, so don’t overlook her as a capable fighter or friend—and whatever you do, don’t ever look her in the eye.”

  Ouch! That last comment earned me a punch in the arm from a certain dark elf before we all burst into laughter.

  We took a final rest at Drake’s Rock in the late afternoon, following a sore but uneventful day of travel. The Rock had taken on a new meaning for me over the past couple of weeks. Where it had first signified tragedy and commitment to duty, its familiar form was now a landmark for home. I relayed what I knew of the events pertaining to the solitary boulder and how it got its name.

  “It’s good to relax for once,” I admitted. My breathing wasn’t as even as it should have been, but I had a few things on my mind. “I seem to be continually trading stress for pain these days, and I could use some downtime until our promotion. Please remember, I’ve got a training spot for you once Sergeant Masterson lets you go, and if you know of any other new Adepts that show promise and a touch of masochism, throw them my way.”

  “Well, there was one very skilled guy that graduated in Spring class, outstanding alpha-level, but he’s got an older brother that’s a bit dominant and mouthy,” said Hicks.

  “Was the older brother named Keil?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

  “You’ve met Sevin?” asked Gunner. “He graduated the Spring class Alpha in spite of the fact that his brother couldn’t button it up for one minute.”

  “His mouth or his pants?” I asked.

  “Both!” they said simultaneously, laughing.

  “Are they a package deal? And can Keil hold an axe?” I pressed.

  “He’s not alpha-level, but he’s solid. If you’re going to be training us, I don’t see why he couldn’t handle it,” Hicks answered. “Might even do him some good.”

  “Fair enough. Thanks for the advice. One last thing, please try to keep events of the past fortnight under your hat, at least the reasons for it and the results. I’ll make a full report to Masterson and ask for his discretion as well. Vigil Snow will need to decide what to do with everything we found there.”