by Edison G. S.
“I am afraid my strength is not the same as before,” she sat down between two younger witches. Just then Omar realized they were all looking at him. She continued with the cup of tea shaking in her hand, “I am sorry you lost your family, but the Death needed a sacrifice to grant me enough power to protect you. Your siblings and your parents were a price we had to pay for your well-being.” She set the cup down as her hands were out of control.
“My mother?” he sobbed. Omar knew the Death was the pagan god of the witches. His mother warned him about such fake gods and made him swear his loyalty to the Sand God.
She nodded, “She too.” She kept silent and looked at Neil. “I am sorry,” she said, keeping her gaze, “you were suppose to get sick, but the Death granted us an exchange. We traded your brother’s health for yours,” her voice started turning cold again. “We never lie to the Death; the price would be immeasurable. The pact must be complete.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she grabbed the hands of two women next to her. They all grasped each other’s hands and started chanting.
Omar cried loudly as he held his brother in his arms. The chanting only lasted a few seconds and afterward all life left Neil’s small body. Omar shook the fragile body, trying to make his brother come back to life, but it was useless.
Omar looked around and saw the door right behind the witches. He rose with trembling limbs and looked at his aunt, his face awash with tears and eyes a burning red. The agony on his face made Ester cry. Omar gave one final look at his brother and sprinted past the witches.
Ester stood outside. “He needed to know,” she said while a young witch stood behind her.
“The Death blesses his journey.”
Ester had paid the ultimate price by offering her own life for his and the Death took it gladly right there. Her sacrifice would ensure a protected life for the most powerful wizard.
Omar saw his aunt falling on the ground as he glanced over his shoulder, but he did not care to see if she was all right; he continued running.
* * *
A deep pain penetrated his heart when Ester collapsed. He kept running though an odd feeling entered his body, making him stop. The powers of the deceased witch found a new keeper. He felt the energy.
The pain was familiar. The witches of the order had been dying over the years and, without knowing what he was feeling, he felt it each time. He could feel the powers entering his body, but the pain of power leaving was severely worse. He was a vessel for the seven powers, but when a new witch or wizard of the order awoke his or her powers, they would go to their definitive master. The passage of powers became cumbersome for the boy as he matured. They drained him of his energy and once he even collapsed in pain, screaming and crying, without having the slightest idea of what caused such pain. The accumulation of those powers was cemented within him and he could feel their energy about to burst and show themselves, causing him more pain than he has ever endured, but he was not afraid anymore.
Omar ran through the empty town. It was dark and the streets were empty, but he was fearless; maybe he was numb for the moment or maybe he accepted his strength and realized how much power he actually had.
The last few hours ceaselessly repeated in his head. He fell to the ground, tears streaming down his face again followed by loud sobs.
“Why are you crying?” a young girl asked him.
He stopped crying and stood up to find the concerned cornflower blue eyes of a girl about his age. She observed with curiosity, playing with her long silver hair, until her father came from behind.
“Who is your friend Alice?” the man asked softly. His eyes were as clear as hers, yet his hair was a little darker and almost inexistent.
The girl looked at Omar expecting an answer, “I am Omar, sir,” he said.
“Well, nice meeting you Omar. Are you one of Alice’s friends? Did you fall and hurt yourself?” he asked, noticing the tears.
“Yes,” he said curtly and looked away.
The man smiled and walked away to a well-equipped wagon.
“Well, see you next time Omar,” she said and followed her father.
“Wait!” the boy demanded and the girl turned around to see his face. The desperation was drawn on his face. “Please, let me come with you.”
She smiled clumsily, “I just met you,” she stared at him, “and you don’t even know where we are going. Your family will be worried.”
“My brother just died; he was the last member of my family. Please help me escape.”
She looked confused before agreeing. “Where do you live?”
“I used to live in the Desert, but I have nothing left there, nor here. Demons and witches…” he swallowed hard, “they took everything away from me.”
“Then you are lucky,” she said, “because we are heading to the Frozen Land. My father is taking some donations there. We will start a journey to the shore in the city of Peare and then continue to the Frozen Land.”
Omar smiled and followed her along.
“Sure you can bring your friend,” her father said as he made space in the cart.
Inside, a young man, Alice’s brother, sat next to his father; Omar looked at the perfect family and wished he belonged to it, rather than to a wicked family eternally damned with demonic powers.
Yvette
She set course to the Royal Waters. She deduced by the time she reached the shores of the kingdom the demons would have entered the village and killed everyone.
She was just out into the water when she heard boxes moving and chickens shrieking. Yvette turned around quickly to find deep, silver eyes staring directly at her. She started walking backwards in the deck; the shore was close enough to jump overboard and swim through the cold water, but where would she go?
I do not want you to leave, Stefan had pleaded many times. The words repeated over and over again in her head as she realized there was not much she could do now. She dropped to her knees and began to cry. “My boy,” she said softly between sobs.
“Where are you going?” the demon asked with the accent of the old tongue, though she could still understand him.
“I…I…” she attempted though she could not speak.
The demon was wearing simple clothes of a shirt and trousers, but they were ancient and unlike anything people would currently wear. His pale, silver arms were exposed and it appeared the frozen wind had no effect on his body.
“My father commanded me to take care of you,” the demon said. “He conjured one of his irrational plans and ordered me to fulfill it.”
“Please, no,” she pleaded.
“I will be swift as to not miss the excitement back on land.” He walked toward her as she tried to back up, but in the blink of a teary eye, he was right on her.
Andreas
They hid inside an empty house, but the place was not safe at all. People shouted and screamed while superhuman creatures jumped at them devouring every man, woman, and child with such strength some corpses were turned to fragments of a human. The rancid stench of blood filled the cold night air and the snow was now stained red.
Soldiers looked up in disbelief. With a single bound, the demons could easily reach the rooftop of any building. All of the troops, belonging to both Andreas and Yvette, united to fight the demons, vowing to never fight one another again.
Andreas bit his lower lip while peering outside the window, keeping half his head hidden below the lower edge of the sill as to remain unseen. Marie and the children kept silent and hid as far from the window as possible.
“I have to go out,” he said after realizing Yvette disappeared. His troops needed him; they helped him escape his confinement and in return he would guide them to victory.
“But my love, it is too risky outside,” Marie ran to him and grabbed his arm as he stood and walked toward the door.
“I need to do this for my honor, for my people, for…” he stopped, leaving the last word unspoken. Darcellene. He still needed to avenge his wife’s
death. Marie admired his loyalty and did not protest with a counterargument.
He kissed his baby girl on her head and hugged his little brother. “You take care of the ladies,” he smiled. Jeremiah hugged him, tears rolling down his face and landing on Andreas’ shoulder. “Hide underground,” Andreas concluded. After kissing Marie, Andreas ran into the hell waiting out of the doors.
Outside, the men fought against the demons while some demons were turning houses to debris. The screams of pain were replaced by Andreas’ commands. He roared loudly and every soldier heard him and followed his direction. He organized the troops into an arrangement to ensure no one was uncovered. Even Yvette’s soldiers listened to him; they had no other option as their leader disappeared into the night.
Andreas drew his sword from its sheath, the silver blade glinting beneath the moonlight. As four demons surged towards him, he swung his sword with the strength of five men, charging into the vicious beasts and slicing through their silvery necks until they lay on the ground next to the corpses of villagers they bled dry.
Some beasts surrounded two of his men; they were fighting valiantly, but were outnumbered. Andreas ran towards them to assist when a demon grabbed Andreas’ sword and ruptured it until all that remained were shiny metallic pieces.
The demon vaulted into the air and grabbed Andreas from behind by his shoulder, slamming him down with a strength that could break his bones. Looking up at the demon, Andreas was lost in the stupor of the beast’s demonic silver eyes. Suddenly, the demon released him; Andreas thought an act of compassion had occurred, but then the demon fell to its knees almost on top of Andreas and revealed a soldier behind him with a bloody sword in his hand. The demon’s heart had been penetrated and his skin began to lose the glamorous white shade as it turned dark as coal and crumbled to dust. The soldier that saved Andreas stood proud, yet flabbergasted, with half a smile spread across his face.
The strength of the demons was compounded. As Andreas ran toward more commotion, thoughts of weakness crowded his mind. Do we actually stand a chance?
“Attack!” he roared from the top of a broken cart, trying to show certainty. The soldiers reverberated with strength and once again rushed to face the demons, even though they knew the demons could easily kill three soldiers at a time.
Unexpectedly from within the multitude of demons, a tall shape appeared; its silvery-blue eyes seemed as cold as the snow in which they stood. The slender figure moved through the crowd weightlessly, as if drifting through the wind like a feather, carrying him toward Andreas. A brave, or foolish, soldier tried to put a sword through the demon’s head, but he stopped the sword with only a finger and pressed the young man down with his free hand, shattering his skull as his brain splattered onto the snow.
Andreas became nauseous . What is this thing? How come humans are still alive if he has so much strength? Kazar could kill the entire human race if he wished, but he never went through The Land of The Men chasing people; instead he just waited for the fight to be brought to him in a refuge only the unluckiest humans discovered.
Behind Kazar, another demon showed the same transparency of skin and eyes. The only differences were a yellow band in the center of his eyes and a sharp gaze that suggested thirst for blood. He had a younger, more aggressive personality than the older figure. If he were a living human, he would be about Rolando’s age. It occurred to Andreas he was looking at father and son. They both had some resemblance to Alar who seemed to be the older brother to this son of Kazar.
A young woman with skin and eyes a darker shade than those of her kind paced behind Kazar and his son. She seemed a bit younger than the young male demon and Andreas knew in a heartbeat the peculiar family was Kazar and his remaining children, Caik and Zesna. They matched the descriptions given in books. Kazar was about three inches taller than the others as Yvette had said.
He felt his limbs grow weak. We are not going to win this fight.
He wished he would have been able to spend more time with Brianne and see her blossom into a beautiful woman. He hoped she inherited her mother’s beauty; he remembered Marie’s face and her dimples when she smiled, the ones Brianne inherited. He would do anything to be able to stay with his family, but it seemed unlikely with the current scenario. Yet, he would fight until the bitter end and never give up.
Suddenly, the two youngest demons jumped as if they were going to fly, but landed on the roof of a humble, old house. It crumbled under the power of their bodies, killing everyone inside. It was one of the houses that had not built an underground refuge yet. Below the shattered pieces of glass, wood, and stone, Andreas could see the lifeless limbs of some children who scuttled there to hide.
“Marie,” he murmured as the demons started turning every house to pieces. They were destroying every refuge. It would be morning soon and the demons knew they had little time left; their better option was to destroy the places of protection. Once collapsed, the demons made sure to break it further to the point of penetrating any underground haven. With wooden planks, they pierced those that hid underground.
In some cases, the debris killed the owners hidden below. When there was nobody alive sharing an spiritual bond to the place, the demons were free to enter the home and extract the warm-blooded bodies inside. Marie was not a fool; she ran outside the house with the children before it was their turn to be crushed under the debris.
Kazar’s children were unlike the others; it was an emotional difference. Spawn followed orders to destroy and harm humans and they lacked free will, but original demons injured others because they wanted to do so. They were truly evil leaders.
“Andreas!” Kazar screamed as if he knew him. Andreas felt his hair stand on end. “I will stop this hell if you show yourself to me,” he screamed.
Marie ran out in front of Andreas, leaving the children behind. Jeremiah stood far in the background with Brianne in his arms. “No, no, leave him alone,” she cried as Andreas stood motionless without understanding what the demon might want or how he even knew his name.
Marie stood fiercely in front of Andreas while Kazar turned to face them. Kazar looked at Andreas right in the eyes, challenging him.
“You took one of mine,” Kazar roared. Then he added, “Now it is my turn to take one of yours, or shall I say, another one?” As he concluded his words, Anthony emerged from behind Andreas and grabbed Marie who seemed confused.
“You,” Andreas managed to say. He was not able to articulate a single sentence. A multitude of emotions wanted to surge out of his heart. His best friend, his brother, was alive and holding Marie as a prisoner; Andreas was puzzled.
“It is good to see you again,” Anthony replied, his eyes and skin were silver and pale, like the demons he was traveling with. Anthony gave Andreas a defiant stare before breaking his sister’s neck and lacerating her skin with his teeth to feed from her.
Tara
She was awake and fighting the man trying to make her relive all her years of abuse.
“Be quite wench!” Earl demanded after slapping her cheek with his monstrous hand. He forced Tara to the floor and grabbed her by the waist to yank up her skirt.
She realized her breasts were showing and attempted to cover herself as she screamed, “Let me go bastard,” but her words were intended for the king. He had given her a destiny, a future as a martyr, and she would have to repeat it all over again as if it were her role in life.
“I will load that trap of yours woman if you do not close it! Look around, we are going to die today,” he motioned his hands around and slowly turned toward Tara who was frightened on the floor. “Would you not rather die happy?” he smiled and showed his few broken teeth and odorous breath as he laughed and fumbled with her undergarments.
“Let her go!” Samuel screamed as he attempted to push the giant away, though his strength did not move the man. Instead, Samuel felt the hit much more.
“Look who is here,” Earl guffawed as Samuel fell to the ground after the impact. Samuel
looked up and noticed how wretched the giant appeared. The shade showed his small roman nose, which was disproportional to his wide pink cheeks. “Have you come to die or watch me pillage the whore?” the giant roared.
Samuel crawled toward Tara who already pulled her clothing back on, but her white skirt was mussed and torn.
The giant set his huge foot on Samuel’s back. “Look at your friend,” he told Samuel who struggled to get loose from the insurmountable pressure of Earl’s foot on him before the wind was knocked out of him. “Look at her for the last time because after I crush you, I will take good care of her,” he grinned, relishing in his final acts.
Tara showed her repulsion, which offended Earl, “Do not fret It will be the last thing you enjoy in this world,” he stated, laughing loudly once again.
Tara searched for someone to witness the situation and help them, but all she saw was death—houses were turned to ash; men, women, and children were either bleeding out on the ground or were turned to demons. She had to make a choice; she could run away and find a demon to turn her or submit to her death alongside Samuel. She savored her revenge; she could smell the royal blood as she bit down into the king. Her other option was much different and selfless. She was not capable of deciding and as luck would have it, she did not need to choose.
A demon appeared behind the giant and slashed into Earl’s gluttonous neck with its razor-sharp nails. Horrified, Tara screamed while Samuel woke up clumsily and scurried over next to her. The demon looked at them with his bright silver eyes. He was slender and seemed weaker than most of the other demons. The superhuman creature crawled on four limbs and stared at them like a rabid dog. Then confusion filled its face as it stood erect and looked around as if Tara and Samuel had just vanished.
They were surprised by what just happened, but their astonishment increased as an old woman materialized in front of them. Speechless, Samuel tried to gesture a thank you, but he was unable to do so. “A witch,” he said as he fell to his knees, “please help us escape this hell.”
