Devil Ash Deceit (Devil Ash Saga)

by Olson, Mitchell

  “Well why don’t we let Aura decide?” Angelica proposed. “What do you think, sweetheart? Would you like to join the Royal Guard some day?”

  “I don’t wanna,” Aura said without hesitation. “They have to fight so many demons. No way I’m going near any demons!”

  “I’d rather you stay away from them too, sweetheart,” Angelica said. “At least for a few more years. But you will have to start your training some day, mister.”

  “Yeah, sure, we’ll see,” said Aura.

  “Where’s your honor, boy?” Amos asked his son. “Are you just going to let the Draxler legacy end? For the last four generations we Draxlers have served in the Royal Guard before inheriting the family business. And you’ve had the great fortune to be the first of us born to a noble! It’s about time you realized that life can’t always be about playing games and having fun. You will have to grow up. The sooner you do, the sooner you will understand the importance of the family legacy that sits on your shoulders, and the honor that comes with it.”

  Nora scoffed. “Aura? Be honorable? I’m sorry to inform you dad, but he’s a total softie.” Nora kicked at her brother underneath the table. Aura yelped in pain, grabbing at his shin.

  “Nora!”

  “Clearly, he needs the training,” said Amos.

  “Just a few more years,” Angelica said. “Please.”

  Amos caved. There was no way he could convince his wife. He began to think of ways he could ‘sneak-train’ Aura without anyone knowing. Noticing his daughter sketching very quickly now, he asked her what she was working on.

  “I’m done with boys for today,” she said. “I’m drawing a baby now.” She flipped her sketchpad around to reveal a depiction of Aura as a small, sobbing baby in a diaper.

  “Nora!” Aura shouted at his sister. “Erase it!”

  “I just draw what I see,” Nora said. Despite his daughter’s rude behavior, Amos managed to laugh. This definitely wasn’t the family he thought he’d have. They were an odd bunch, but his love for them was immeasurable. His only wish was for something to happen that would change his son into a more mature, motivated, and honorable young man.

  Then he got exactly what he wished for.

  The following morning, the Draxler house was abuzz with their usual breakfast routine. Angelica sprinted laps around the kitchen making everyone’s individual meals. Nora brushed her hair while chewing on a warm piece of toast. Amos eyed the morning paper in-between bites of egg. Like every day, Aura was the last one to the breakfast table.

  “Mornin’,” he said with a yawn as he sat down at the table. He was rubbing his eyes when Amos looked up from his newspaper and noticed the change.

  “What did you do to your hand?” Amos asked.

  “Hmm?” Aura didn’t seem to know his father was speaking to him at first. He opened his eyes and saw that his right hand was entirely black. It took him a moment to realize he was seeing correctly. He screamed, tipping over his chair and falling backwards to the floor.

  “Aura!” Angelica said.

  Amos was at his son’s side first. He gripped his son’s arm by the wrist, right below where the skin turned black. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know!” Aura panicked. “It wasn’t like this when I went to bed last night!”

  “Oh my poor baby!” Angelica cried. “Does it hurt, sweetie?”

  “Not really.” Aura stopped crying. He wasn’t in any pain, just shock. “It doesn’t feel different. I must have slept on it,” Aura said.

  Nora peeked over the table to examine her brother’s new oddity.

  “No one’s hand would turn completely black just from sleeping improperly on it,” Amos said. “This has to be something else.”

  “What?” Angelica pleaded. “I’ll use every one of my noble connections to get the best medical minds and brightest scholars working on figuring out what this is!”

  I’ve heard about this before, Amos thought to himself. There’s no mistaking it, it looks exactly like in the old stories...

  “Dad…” Aura said. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Listen, all of you,” Amos said. “I think it’s a curse.”

  “A curse!?” Aura said.

  “Cool!” Nora exclaimed.

  “No!” Angelica said.

  “Yes, a curse called the death touch. God used to give his Archangels this power long ago.”

  “How the heck did I become one?!”

  “No one wanted the power, it was given to them at random.”

  “Why!?”

  “This all took place a long time ago, back when the angels used to interfere with the humans on a regular basis. God realized their work could be done more discreetly if the angels could remove souls with a single touch. It’s also written that they could do things with soul power that no one else could.”

  “Scary!!” Aura held his hand far away from himself. “So I can’t touch anyone with this hand anymore or they’ll die?”

  “Interesting,” Nora said, admiring her brother’s cursed hand.

  Amos went to his room and returned holding one of his old metal gauntlets. He held it in front of Aura and made him put it on over the black hand. “Don’t take that off,” he told his son.

  “For how long?” Aura asked.

  “Forever.”

  “He can’t wear that thing forever! It’s not even his size!” Angelica said.

  “If word of this gets out, there’s no doubt that the Royal Guard will be after him. They can’t just let a power like that walk around freely. If his ability is ever discovered, he’ll most likely be taken into custody for life.”

  “Then what?” Nora asked, now much more interested in her boring family.

  “He’ll either be forced to serve the King, or executed.”

  Angelica wailed in sadness some more, while Aura looked down at the large metal gauntlet on his hand. “I’ll never tell a soul,” he said. “I’ll wear this gauntlet all the time!”

  That morning at school, Aura noticed an immediate change. He had always been ignored by the other children and had no friends to speak of. When he entered the classroom and took his seat, the teacher and other children all stared at him before saying anything.

  Finally, the teacher spoke up. “Mr. Draxler, please remove that… armor.”

  “I can’t,” Aura turned red with all the eyes on him.

  “This is not a battlefield, it is a classroom. My classroom. And in my classroom, students wear their proper uniforms and not random pieces of armor.”

  Aura stood. He kept his eyes low, trying to avoid making eye contact with his classmates who had never looked at him for so long before. He walked to the front of the room and handed his teacher a small slip of paper. The teacher took it and began to read.

  Aura has developed a delicate and contagious skin condition on his right hand. For this purpose, and for the safety of the other children, I must insist he wear his containment gauntlet at all times. Any questions can be addressed to me. – Amos Draxler.

  “I see…” the teacher said, eyeing Aura’s right hand suspiciously. “You’d better keep it on, then. Go sit.” Aura walked back to his desk, and just like that it was decided he could wear the gauntlet indefinitely. He was relieved his teacher seemed so dismissive of the strange fashion statement, and hoped things would continue on as normal.

  But his classmates weren’t so quick to let the issue die. It started with odd looks from all the kids. Throughout the course of the day, Aura caught nearly every kid in class stealing inquisitive glances at him. At first he was flattered, but when the looks he started getting were those of disgust and laughter, the reality of his situation set in. He was now even more of a social outcast than he was before.

  The next day, his classmates evolved from simple stares and began passing notes. He noticed it before class even started, when one boy slipped a small scrap of paper to another boy. That boy immediately glanced at Aura and snickered. Aura watched him later slip the same no
te to the boy in front of him. The note worked its way around the room throughout the course of the day, passing through everyone but their teacher and Aura’s hands.

  At the end of the day the classroom cleared out. Aura lingered behind working on an assignment. He didn’t like walking the academy’s halls until everyone was gone. When he finally got his bag packed and was about to leave the room, he spotted the scrap of paper on the floor near the door. Someone tried to throw it away, but it never reached the wastebasket. Aura leaned down and picked it up. He read:

  Look at Draxler’s stupid glove! He reminds me of a defective product.

  Yes. I was thinking the same thing! He’s a defect!

  Defective Draxler!

  Draxler the Defect!

  He’s not even a real noble, you know? His daddy is as South Hell as they come!

  He’s daddy’s little defect!

  More was written, but Aura crumpled the paper up and tossed it away without reading any of it. That night, he thought seriously about removing the gauntlet at school and showing everyone his secret tomorrow. As he lay awake in bed, he wondered what his classmate’s reactions would be if they knew he was a death toucher. Would they still pick on him?

  He didn’t reveal his power, though. He carried on like nothing was wrong while his classmate’s behavior devolved. After notes came insults. It started out lightly, with whispers behind his back and never to his face. He’d hear someone say under their breath as he passed by, “defect,” and he would ignore it. Occasionally, it would be paired with some act of accidental pushing or bumping into in the halls.

  On one occasion, a boy named Bones pushed him from behind. Aura fell flat on his face. “Oops,” Bones said. All the children watched. No teachers were present, and no one was going to help Aura up. “I’m sorry, defective Draxler! At least you had your armor on to protect you!” Bones stepped around Aura.

  “Yo Bones!”

  Bones the bully turned around. A fist from Nora Draxler connected with his nose.

  The crowd dispersed, some laughing and some scared. Nora kneeled down and picked up her brother’s book.

  “Demons,” she said, holding out the book to him.

  “What did I do wrong?” Aura asked, snatching the book. “I’m not mean to anyone. I don’t bug people. It’s not my fault I was born to a non-noble! I didn’t choose to have this evil hand! So why does everyone have to be so mean?”

  “It’s just going to get worse, you know.”

  Aura wiped the tears and snot from his face with his left hand. “No… I won’t let it!”

  That night, Aura came to his father with a request.

  “Are you serious?”

  “I am,” Aura said. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about our family legacy. I want to follow in your footsteps. I’ll start training with you now and join the Royal Guard when I’m ready.”

  “And the family business? You’ll take over for me too?”

  “Of course. ‘We Draxlers make the best steel,’ isn’t that the family motto?”

  “I’ve never been so proud of you!” Amos said as he pulled Aura into a loving embrace.

  From that day on, Aura would meet his father at the factory after he was released from school. They would spend an hour at night training on the empty factory floor. At first, his training was studying. A week went by and his father still hadn’t let him even touch a sword. The bullies at school were only getting worse.

  Aura started coming to training with bruises on his face and arms, his clothing suddenly having scorch marks. Amos took notice but never said anything about it. Instead, Amos tossed Aura into sword training with wooden practice swords. Aura was thrilled to finally get into it.

  Weeks went by. Months passed. Aura’s aggressors continued to penalize him for being different. Aura took their abuse in stride. He wouldn’t allow himself to sink to their level and fight. Not yet. But he began to take notice that of all the transgressions against him, the majority of them came from the boy named Bones. That boy was quickly becoming Aura’s worst enemy.

  Then one fateful day, Bones shoved Aura into a wall so hard Aura almost blacked out. With Bones’s elbow against the back of his neck, Aura heard his bully whisper to him.

  “You think you’re tough now that you’ve been putting in time training with your old man? Your old man is pathetic, Southside gutter trash. And that makes you the son of trash. You’ll always be a defect!”

  Aura was done taking crap from him. With a burst of anger, he pushed off the wall and made Bones take an involuntary step backward.

  “After school today,” Aura said. “Let’s settle this.”

  “You’re on, defect!” Bones said. “Hey everyone, daddy’s little defect here is going to fight me!” Bones ran off to rally his primitive friends. Aura walked to his next class, unaware of his sister Nora watching him go.

  The rest of that day went by too slowly for Aura. He stared only at the clock on the wall, waiting for the countdown to end. When at last the final bell tolled, Aura burst out of his seat and sprinted out of the classroom. Bones watched, a smug smirk on his face. The boy and his posse headed outside to the yard to wait for Aura.

  Over twenty minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Aura. Nearly half the school stuck around to watch the fight. Nora hid among the mass of children, waiting to see what her cowardly brother would do.

  “Well boys, I don’t think he’s going to show up,” Bones said with arrogant confidence.

  “Bones!” Another child burst forward. “I saw the defect fly towards the Southern Section right when school let out! Don’t you see? He’s run home! He’s given up!”

  “I knew he would!” Bones said. The crowd rumbled and nearly dispersed, until Aura dropped out of the sky and landed. He stood before Bones holding two wooden practice swords. “What? You couldn’t fight me hand to hand, so you ran home and got some swords to attack me with?”

  Aura responded by tossing one of the swords to the ground at Bones’s feet.

  “What’s this?”

  “We’ll duel with swords. It’ll be a fair fight,” Aura said.

  “Sounds good to me!” Bones bent down and picked up the sword. The crowd began to cheer and chant, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

  “You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought, defect! You think you’re the only one who’s started training early? My old man’s been teaching me swords for two years! There’s no way a beginner like you can beat me!”

  Bones leapt forward with a downward slash at Aura. Aura shot forward, holding the wooden sword in his left hand. His right hand rose up to grab at his opponent’s sword. He pulled the sword aside, and with Bones defenseless, Aura slammed him in the side of the face with his own wooden sword. Bones dropped to the ground at once, a dark bruise forming on his cheek.

  Just like that the fight was over. The crowd went nuts. Everyone cheered, “Aura! Aura! Aura!” He’d never had so much positive attention in his life. Not wanting to spoil the moment by standing around looking stupid, Aura thought he should say a few words.

  “Listen up, everyone who gave me shit about this!” he said, motioning to his right arm. Everyone settled down and listened. Nora poked her head through the crowd to get a better look at her brother.

  “This gauntlet is a gift from my father! I wear it with pride, because it was made by the best weaponsmith in the kingdom: my father!” Aura raised his gauntlet proudly for all to see. “It’s the only armor I need!”

  That image of her brother, gauntlet held up proudly, was burned into Nora’s mind. She’d never seen her brother look so cool.

  “Anyone else got a problem with that?” Aura asked. His classmates all shook their heads in denial. Bones still lay unconscious on the ground, his posse attempting to wake him.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  Chapter Thirteen: Aura’s Honor

  The school faculty was in an uproar over the fight between Aura and Bones. Many of the teachers pushed for expu
lsion. The school board decided to simply raise the trouble student’s education fees significantly. Amos and Angelica were grateful, but concerned for their son.

  They had greatly misjudged how difficult their son’s condition was making his life. For Angelica, it felt like she had failed as a mother to protect her son’s childish innocence. She took extra care to smother him with affection in the following days. Amos felt the opposite. Though he was disheartened by his son’s ordeal, he beamed with fatherly pride that his once-lazy son was now capable of defending himself.

  With the higher fee for Aura’s schooling, Amos would have to put off replacing his office window for a while longer. As he sat in his dampened workspace in the days after Aura’s incident, an idea struck him. When he returned home that night he had a special request for his daughter at the dinner table.

  “I want you to paint something nice over the boarded up window in my office,” Amos said. Nora’s eyes lit up with excitement, but Amos was quick to clarify, “not a boy.”

  “Aww,” Nora said, deflated.

  “You can do a nice landscape, or even a demon for all I care. I just don’t want to stare at that blank piece of wood anymore.”

  “I’m not as experienced with paint as I am with pencils, so I’ll have to practice for a while until I’m ready to commit to a design,” she told him.

  The next day Nora joined her father and brother for their after-school training session at the factory. Amos surprised her by revealing an easel and several blank canvases for her to practice painting on. She eagerly taught herself how to mix colors together to create new ones and the various techniques used to apply paint to the canvas while Aura and Amos clashed on the factory floor.

  Aura was in the middle of spear training, as Amos jabbed at him with a staff to teach him how to defend. The boy preferred the sword to the spear and offense over defense, but he was holding his ground. He tried sneaking in an attack when he thought his father’s guard was down, but Amos easily deflected his son’s blow and struck him directly in the gut. Aura fell to the ground.