I wondered how I got here, with the lower hand in the fight against my worst enemy. Again. How we ended up in the same green field, in the early evening, under the same circumstances made me feel like history was repeating itself. History would repeat itself, until one of us was dead.
“You’re already given me the delight of destroying what you cherish most.” His voice was cruel and bitter, dripping with sadistic pleasure. “And what else do I have to do now? You’re no longer any fun. You were a better puppet than you ever were an enemy. You’re a rag doll now, Leo. Useless.” Clark’s pallid face came up mere inches to my own, his gleaming red eyes flashed blue, and his whole face contorted into somebody else’s.
His hair was no longer stringy and black; it grew out into long blond curls, reaching mid-back. His skin went from gaunt to creamy and flushed. No longer angular and sharp, his face was now gently rounded and heart-shaped- the very face that I kept near and dear to my heart.
“Ishtar.” I breathed, my pain reflected in her doppelganger’s eyes. I knew it wasn’t her, she was dead. Her cold body had been buried deep in the frosted earth right under the old willow tree. I had seen blood spew out of her mouth and nose as her body so horribly rejected the poison that reached her heart. Basilisk venom killed slowly, burning and torturing the victim into madness. It was that venom that killed her, and it was my enemy’s hand that had injected the toxin into her veins by way of poison-encrusted dagger.
Ishtar’s mouth curled up into a sadistic grin. This felt so unreal; it was like I was watching the scene happen before me, as a viewer rather than a participant. Her long white fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword, brought my weapon to my bare back, and impaled me through the chest. I let my guard down, and now I was paying for it. My knees buckled, and I collapsed face-first into the earth, sword deeply embedded in my body.
I craned my head to look up, hoping that I could look at the Ishtar’s double a last time, but Clark had disappeared, he had left me to die- not bothering to torture me further. Either he didn’t see a point in it, or he was giving me a kinder death than he gave most others.
A piercing, tormented scream filled the air- it was a scream that neither blade nor flame could cause. It was the sort of scream that could only be the result of very real, very deep emotional agony.
“Oh god, Leo- Leo! Aras, heal him!”
Strong, sturdy hands ripped the sword out of me and shifted my unwilling body to my back so I could stare up at the familiar faces of my dearest friends, my only allies. Miruka’s cheeks were shining with tears, while Aras, the calm, wise elf he was- set his mouth into a grim line.
“I don’t think I can, Ruka.” He said steadily, like a child who was just learning how to read. “He’s lost too much blood.” Aras rested his blood-stained hands on my arm in a way that was meant to be soothing, though his knuckles were stark-white. He seemed for once, to be completely speechless. I had the sinking suspicion that he was only doing this to seem brave. Aras just stared long and hard at my face, his green eyes blank, holding no emotion.
“Arafinwe- aren’t you sad?” I forced out a gurgling laugh and blood dripped out of my mouth and trickled down my chin. Aras only nodded briefly, ashamed to admit such a thing.
Then everything went black.
I was standing outside of myself, watching as Aras had finally succumbed to tears while Ruka rushed to give him a hug from behind- they had switched roles. I reached out a hand in hopes of perhaps touching Miruka’s face or Aras’ shoulder. As soon as I attempted, there was a blinding flash of light, but oddly enough it didn’t hurt.
Where was I? This place was too clear, luminescent, and pure to belong to Earth. The room was in the shape of a perfect cube. There were no windows, doors, or imperfect lines. It was almost like an obsessive-compulsive sculptor had carved this room out of the lone moon, and I was stuck right in the hollow center.
There was a soft tinkling noise not unlike a windchime, and right before me there appeared a blue flame suspended in midair. Glowing spherical beams came from all directions, rushing to the fire. The little orbs of light were, if possible, whiter than this very room. They all joined together at the flame. Once they all met, the tinkling stopped. One moment it was a sphere of orbs surrounding a fire, and the next it was a cloaked man.
“You used to be good, but you strayed away from your original path, and changed into nothing better than a bitter monster.” The man said leisurely, bringing the hood down off his white cloak, revealing a face so much younger than the one that his voice belonged to. There were no lines of age along the plains of his pale face, but his brown eyes were full of wisdom. As they scrutinized me, I could not help but feel like I was being criticized. His lips curled up into a smile. I wondered if maybe he was mocking me, enjoying some sort of sick personal joke at my expense.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“However, you are a rather… Unique case.” He continued on as if he didn’t hear my inquiry. “You took lives, but you also gave many lives. You were able to recognize your past sins and you attempted to rectify them. However, you also allowed yourself to be consumed by revenge. The first time-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence; I knew what he meant. The first time I had fought against Clark, he had attempted to gouge my left eye out- leaving behind a legion of scars, and taking with him my sight.
“The second time, you lost your mortal life.” The man shook his head as if disappointed. “You cannot go to Heaven. Most cases only have one other option- Hell.”
I knew it was coming, but I had hoped to avoid it. Hell- I hoped that I hadn’t corrupted myself enough to get thrown to an afterlife of suffering.
My former ally and current enemy- he should have died. He enjoyed standing in the form of my Ishtar, watching the unmistakable pain in my eyes when I recognized her face etched on his.
As the strange man circled around me, I thought about my former ally and current enemy- he should have died. Clark enjoyed standing in the form of my Ishtar, watching the unmistakable pain in my eyes when I recognized her face etched on his.
He was the one who deserved to go to hell. He, who manipulated me onto the side of darkness, Clark, who killed men, women and children in cold blood and walked away without so much as a scratch on his conscience. I hated him. I hated that malicious shapeshifter who killed my Ishtar. I hated the red-eyed demon that reveled in my deep seated misery. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to soothe the boiling anger in the pit of my stomach.
“Sir Leo Gerard Havok, do not worry about him.” The man broke my train of thought. “He will pay when his time comes; right now the only fate you should ponder is your own. I said most cases only had one other alternative… You however, have a second option.”
A second option..?
“You could have a second chance at life, and thus a second chance to redeem yourself.”
“Redeem myself?” I repeated, jaw dropping. “Of course- what is it? I’ll do anything!” I blurted. As the words fell out of my mouth, I realized how desperate they sounded.
“Are you sure? Once you choose, there is no going back.” His voice was heavy, trying to emphasize how serious he really was.
“Yes!” My voice snapped before I had a chance to reel myself under control.
He eyed me warily, “You could be a Light Daemon, I do assume you have heard about them. However, there are some rules you have to follow.”
I nodded impatiently. I felt like I would implode if he didn’t hurry up and explain.
“As a Light Daemon, you will be a guardian. You will keep yourself neutral in conflict, but you must protect the people to whom you are assigned. You will start out at level one hundred- your abilities will be limited to healing others and teleportation.” He hesitated, “You will not be able to heal yourself, but you also will not need to.”
So I would become immortal? My eyes practically bugged out of my head. Many people wished for immortality. I found it rather ironic that my immortality would come after I died.
“That’s not so bad.”
He stared at me like I was short of insane. “You cannot, you absolutely cannot fight others unless it is in self defense. You cannot kill, and you cannot injure others unless you can avoid it. Otherwise, your powers will be stripped from you, and you will go straight to Hell.”
I froze. No fighting? “So… I have to be a pacifist?” I clarified, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. You’ve inflicted enough damage on humanity, the only way to rectify it is by attempting to bring peace and protect.”
Who in the world was this guy? He was obviously a Daemon… But he knew my name, while I didn’t know his. The scale was fairly out of balance. I had a feeling that I would be seeing a lot more of him after today.
I sat down cross-legged, bringing my fingers to my temple. A pacifist. That meant I would have to throw away any thoughts of revenge and move on. I had to simply forget about the monster who lured me into this situation? I had to overlook the fact that he killed my Ishtar, stole my eyesight, and massacred villages of people? I inhaled sharply. If I went to Hell, I would never have a chance to kill him. If I chose immortality, I would have to let my enemy live. What would I prefer? An afterlife of torture or an eternal life of unfulfillment?
“I want to be a Light Daemon.” I decided, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.
“That is a wise decision.” He lightly stepped towards me and pressed his palm against my forehead. “Close your eyes.”
I obeyed. My whole body went hot, and then it cooled down- tingling like all my limbs had decided to fall asleep at once. The needle-prick feeling across my skin lasted for only a few seconds, though it felt like longer. I opened my eyes.
“Did you do it?” I sounded the same, and honestly I felt the same. There were no immediate changes that were apparent.
“I need to get my payment before I go home…”
“What is that?”
“My horse needs to get trained.”
“Great, now I’m in trouble.”
“I think I stepped in something.”
A cacophony of voices filled my head. I felt like I was in a crowded room full of people trying to talk over each other without listening to what anybody had to say.
“Am I supposed to be hearing these voices?” I asked out loud, my voice shaking.
Instead of telling me I was crazy, instead of looking at me as if wondering if I had finally lost my mind, the man laughed. “Ah, Leo. Those are the voices of your charges, or rather, their thoughts. It’ll become white noise eventually. You’ll find that listening to their thoughts is essential.”
I stood up and shot him a dirty look. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” I was barely restraining myself.
“I thought it would be obvious.” He shrugged nonchalantly, “How else would you know if your charges were in danger?”
He had a point. “But- how am I supposed to hear my own thoughts? How am I supposed to know what I’m thinking?!?”
“If you recognize your own voice, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
I calmed down, but only slightly. “Okay, okay.” I breathed, “What should I call you? What are you?”
“Me? I’m a Sage; one of the elite Light Daemons. My name is Medeth, but you must refer to me as ‘sir’. I am your superior, my word is law.” He motioned towards his white cloak, “All Sages are required to wear these.”
“Okay, sir. What am I supposed to do now?”
Medeth chuckled mysteriously. “What do you think you are supposed to do?” His entire body began to shine and dissolve; the windchime noise filled the room.
“Hey- don’t just leave me!”
What do I think I’m supposed to do? Why would I ask him a question if I didn’t already know the answer? I closed my eyes and focused on the voices, trying to distinguish one voice from the other.
“The baby’s crying again.”
“What should I have for dinner..?”
“Oh god. Blood. Is that blood? I really hope it’s not blood.” This voice sounded panicked; there was a weight upon my chest as I heard it.
I was responsible for the owner of this voice, right? That meant I needed to help him. Didn’t Medeth say that I could teleport? I focused solely on this voice as hard as I could- in my head there appeared a lush, green forest. Hiding in the bushes was a light-haired young man, clutching his leg, examining his wound with distaste.
Suddenly I was spinning; my stomach lurched though there was nothing inside of it. Then I was completely still, standing directly in front of the wounded man. His leg was bleeding profusely, an arrow embedded in his thigh.
“Are you hurt?” I asked stupidly, mentally stabbing myself. Of course he was hurt; there was a puddle of blood right underneath him!
He looked at me as if I was the most idiotic being on the face of the earth. My question was too pathetic to even deserve an answer. His golden eyes flashed from mine and back to his wound, silently asking for help. His skin was growing pale, and his platinum blond hair was plastered all around his face with sweat.
“I’m Leo. I’m your daemon.” I explained, kneeling next to him. In my human life, I had seen many wounds like this. I did what my instinct told me to do- yank the arrow out. The man stayed perfectly still, only his muscles tightening revealed how much pain he was in.
Now what was I supposed to do..? There was a big gaping hole in his thigh and I had nothing to bandage him with. Didn’t Medeth say that I could heal others? How could I do that if I didn’t know how? I pressed my hand against his leg, simply trying to put pressure on the wound before he bled to death.
My hands got hot and began to tingle, a soft white glow emitted from my palms, and when I removed my hands, his wound was perfectly healed.
“Well, there you go.”
“You’re new at this, aren’t you?” The man finally spoke. “I’m Cain, but you probably know that since you can read my mind. I thought they’d send a replacement soon, my last daemon turned dark.” He adjusted his belt and pulled out a silver blade. “Here, take this as a token of my thanks.” He said, planting the sword between my feet.
“Cain, I have no use for this- I can’t fight.”
Cain wiggled his eyebrows impishly. “Oh yes you can. Just as long as you heal the guy, you won’t get caught.” Then, he morphed into a wolf and disappeared between two trees, leaving me to think about what just happened.
I stood there like a dense idiot. Finally, I picked the blade up and gazed at it in wonder.
Now to find food…” Cain’s familiar voice rang in my head.
“Where did I set my knitting down?”
“Get away from me!” This woman’s voice caught my attention. It was familiar yet I could not figure out who it belonged to. Whoever it was, she sounded like she was in trouble. Within three seconds, I was right by her side- where she was being tied up and gagged to a chair.
Oh god, it was Ame. The King’s notorious daughter, the bossiest female I had ever come in contact with. Her chestnut locks were tangled and let loose from the usual bun; her wide brown eyes were overflowing with tears. Without hesitation, I began to undo the rope.
Across from me, Clark stood- momentarily frozen with astonishment. He had just killed me recently, and here I was without a scratch, helping out the princess like I’d been doing this for years.
He backed a few steps away, glaring at me darkly. I glowered back, putting as much malice as I could in my uncovered eye.
“Hey, you! Stop staring at him and finish untying!” Ame’s high pitched voice rang in my ears. I decided to tune her out.
My hands balled into fists. It took everything in my power to keep from drawing out my silver blade. Killing him right now, though it was as appealing as blood to a vampire- it was a bad idea. In front of a charge- in front of witnesses… Nevertheless, I took a sharp step towards him. The next moment, he transformed into a black raven and flew away.
“Now that he’s gone, will you finish untying me?” Ame whined.
I slowly turned my head towards her and nodded, afraid that if I opened my mouth that I might shout at her. Something told me that shouting at my charges was not part of the Light Daemon code.
As I released her, I was beginning to plan. Seeing that Clark was still in action only made the idea of killing him so much more appealing than pacifism. Who cared if I went to hell? If I pulled Clark down with me, it would be worth it.
“Can you take me home..?” Ame’s voice was dripping with fake sweetness. I rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand. Teleporting was getting easier and easier, I didn’t need to even think about popping up in the entrance hall of the castle. Ame was greeted by the queen, who burst into sobs of joy- I looked upon the scene with reserved politeness, then took my leave- daemon style.
I reappeared in a lone field, right under a willow tree. Her branches brushed against the ground, moving back and forth wisely as if she held some sort of deep secret. My heart felt like it was going to collapse; this was where we had buried Ishtar. This was where she had died. I approached the tree, peeking through the branches that protectively watched over her grave.
There wasn’t a tombstone; the location of her body was only marked by a makeshift cross that had been driven into the ground. I sat and leaned against the trunk, watching the cross as if she would jump out of her grave and greet me with a hug. A raven flew through the branches and perched itself on the cross.
“I don’t know how you survived, but I knew you’d come here.” Clark’s sinister voice seemed to whisper through the branches. I shot to my feet, my hand on the hilt of my recently acquired weapon. I focused on the raven.
“You’re a coward.” I spat, jumping to my feet.
The raven cackled, “Oh, am I?” He was mocking me.
“Your mind games won’t work this time.” I insisted.
“And yet you still haven’t attacked, dear Leo.” He flew off of the cross and landed on the grass. His face was slowly taking on a more human-like appearance, beak forming into a pair of lips, feathers were shedding off of his skin, and he was growing- wings changing to arms- it always took him longer to revert to his natural form, so I took my chance.
I threw my sword at him, aiming for his chest, but I hit his shoulder instead. Black blood began to ooze from his wound, bearing a striking resemblance to tar.
He howled in agony, a feathered hand grasped the offensive weapon and yanked it clumsily out of his shoulder, throwing it to the ground. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“Sword, come.” I don’t know why I said it, but it made a soft tinkling noise, disappeared and reappeared in my hands. It seemed that I had the upper hand in this battle. I disappeared, reappearing right behind him. I was so close, I could practically taste it. I was going to make him die the way I died. Without another thought, my sword went through his chest. I pulled it back out, and stabbed him a second time- in the abdomen. The shapeshifter hardly stood a chance against my new form.
Finally, I released him. His breathing was ragged, his clothes were stained black. The thick tar-like substance had formed a heavy puddle at his feet and he collapsed, red eyes rolling into the back of his head.
For a moment, I felt relieved, secure. For once in my life, I had accomplished something. I stared down at my enemy, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and… Was that remorse? That grainy, scratching feeling in the pit of my stomach- that little nudging in the back of my head? Was I feeling guilty?
What had I done? I had traded in my eternal life for a damned afterlife. I kneeled down beside Clark. It was too late; there wasn’t anything I could do. He was dying. I rested my hands on his chest in an attempt to keep his wound from bleeding further.
A familiar tingling heat appeared in my palms. A soft hum filled the air, one second… Two seconds… It felt like eternity. That’s right- I could heal. Did it work? Was he back?
His eyes opened slowly, although I had healed him, he was weak from blood loss. He stared at me in amazement; his mind was too warped to comprehend my actions. “Thank you.” He breathed.
Although I knew he wouldn’t dare provoke me again, I needed to have the last word.
“Next time.” My voice was a low hiss, “Your life is mine.”
Blargh. I really hate how the ending turned out. Suggestions? Critiques are greatly appreciated. I hope to build more on this story.
