PS: I know there are typos here, please don't nag me about those. I'll fix them when I'm good and ready.
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They were gaining on him, and fast. Wickedly sharp claws and fangs were merely a few yards behind, tattered wings of smoky gray and black carrying the monsters forward as they screeched their eerie hunting calls. They were caught up in the thrill of the chase; eyes burning in anticipation of sinking their teeth into their prey’s flesh. Their prey, meanwhile, was flying for his life, beating his own wings harder than he had ever hoped he’d need to.
Panting heavily, the young daemon stole a glance over his shoulder; as if he needed to be reminded of the danger he was in to force himself to go any faster. Ferals were fast, bloodthirsty beasts; hardly intelligent enough to be counted among the other classes of daemon. Human in appearance, save for the ripped wings on their backs and claws where the fingernails would be on any human, they acted the exact opposite of the sentient beings they resembled. They were monsters, through and through, and the horde of them was dead set on killing the daemon who was fleeing from them as fast as he could manage.
It was foolish to think you could out-fly a pack of ferals, especially if those ferals were after you because you had broken the highest law to be enforced upon your race. ‘Daemon law enforcement’…that was a basic summary of them. Law enforcement that did not believe in the right to a fair trial, that was for sure.
So it was time to start strategizing.
The terrain; rocky, dark, and chock full of jagged cliffs, stalactites, and pools of lava and erupting geysers that were only natural in the underground volcanic region proved to be to the advantage of the fugitive. He knew the area just as well as any other daemon, and had no trouble banking steeply to the right to avoid a sudden eruption of boiling magma from an angry geyser in front of him. Smirking to himself as he heard the shrieks of a few ferals who hadn’t managed to get away in time, he dove sharply under a conveniently located rocky outcropping, pulling his wings in close and spiraling trough the tight space with rockfaces on either side. He glanced behind him again as he came out of the tunnel – there were even fewer ferals coming after him now. He guessed that, in their haste to capture him, the horde had all tried to get through the tunnel in one big mass and gotten stuck.
The young daemon smirked again. Vicious, ferals certainly were, but not that high on the intelligence scale.
Scanning ahead, he tried to find something to use against his assailants. Another tunnel, if he were lucky, or maybe a field of geysers to fly through. That would stop them in their tracks. But his heart sank grimly: there was nothing ahead of him but cliffs and stalagmites…
“That’ll work,” he growled through clenched teeth. It would be dangerous, but since he was already in danger at the moment he wasn’t too concerned with that fact.
It wasn’t for nothing he was considered one of the best fliers in this hellish place: the underworld, the home of the daemons that was right under the human’s noses. He liked to think he was gifted when it came to aerial skills. Also, it helped getting so much practice by keeping away his brother after he’d decided to annoy him. He definitely wished it were Silas chasing him right now instead of law enforcement, but law breakers couldn’t be choosers. So he wheeled through the field of jagged stalagmites as carefully and quickly as he could, not wasting time to look back and see if his tactic was working. The screams of pain behind him were enough to reassure him, though.
A few times he nearly crashed. The rock formations were all clustered together so close it was extremely difficult trying to get around them with how fast he was going.
“Come on, come on, COME ON…!”
He pushed himself to go faster, ignoring the aching pain in his wing joints. There was no doubt about the back pains he was going to have later. For now, it was time to focus on saving his own skin.
He’d almost cleared the stalagmite field: he could see the end of it about ten yards ahead. But he wasn’t out of trouble just yet. A persistent feral, merely inches behind him, lunged forward suddenly with a snarl and grabbed his foot with a vicelike grip. The added drag was quickly slowing him down.
“GET OFF ME!”
Kicking furiously, he managed to force the creature off with a hard blow to the face, breaking its nose and sending it crashing downward. The feral behind it immediately attempted to brake, but it was too close to the other to avoid crashing as well. Both of them fell in a crumpled heap to the uneven rocky ground.
And then, miraculously, he was home free. He didn’t bother to check to see how many ferals had made it as he dove through an opening in the side of a cliff and collapsed on the floor of his room; teeth chattering and wings trembling as if it were freezing cold instead of humid as it always was.
“What was that noise, Sithe?!” he heard his brother yell irritably from another room in the cave.
“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Sithe, his younger brother, protested from yet another room. “It came from Taebbean’s room; he probably broke something, I DON’T KNOW!”
This familiar arguing was comforting to the exhausted daemon, who gave a long sigh of relief. At last, he was home and safe – at least for a few minutes.
His older brother was standing in his doorway, wearing an angry look. “Taebbean, what in the abyss are you d-“
Cutting his accusing sentence short when he saw the state he was in, Silas was helping him to his feet (or rather FORCING him to his feet) in seconds.
“What happened?” he demanded, his tone still sounding as angry as before but filled with anxious concern rather than annoyance as he started muttering a healing spell over his aching wings.
Taebbean wondered where to start. The part before or after he’d started the race for his life? Then his dark eyes widened as he suddenly remembered: he was still in danger of being killed, a danger that grew with every second he wasted just standing there. And now, so were his brothers. He’d brought them into this whether he liked it or not. What had he been thinking?...no, he HADN’T been thinking at all. He’d practically reacted on instinct when he’d thrust that dagger into the pureblood, the most highly feared and nearly revered class of daemon, in that dark and shadowed room…
“We have to go. NOW!” he suddenly burst, bolting to his closet and rummaging through it, throwing random items on the floor.
“…What?!”
Sithe appeared in the doorway after Silas’ confused remark, and he was looking just as confused himself. He cocked his head to the side curiously like a dog, letting his hair fall over his right eye as it frequently did.
“What are you making a disaster out of your room for, T?” he asked.
Taebbean ignored both of them; frantically grabbing a couple of bags and shoving one at each of his brothers. “I said, we have to leave! Just go pack, and HURRY, they’ll be here soon!”
Silas raised an eyebrow. “Who will be here soon?”
“…Um…”
Taebbean gulped. That wasn’t really a question he felt like answering, because then they would know…
His older brother’s eyes narrowed, and a deep growl rose in his throat. He always hated when he did that. Sure, he could be scary when he was mad, but when Silas felt like it he could be downright intimidating.
“What. Did. You. Do.”
“…I…I didn’t mean to…I swear!! I swear, Silas, it was an accident, I’m sorry…”
“Answer me, Taebbean!” roared Silas, his fists clenched and shaking while beginning to radiate an unearthly bluish glow. That was a bad sign. Even Sithe knew that, and he was already quietly starting to back out of the room to leave his brother to his fate. As reluctant as he was to admit what he’d done, Taebbean knew better than to let this go on any longer. It was obviously not a good idea keeping Silas in the dark. Hanging his head to avoid those burning silvery blue eyes, he practically forced himself to choke out a reply.
“…The ferals…they almost caught me on the way here.”
Silence. Silas didn’t say anything for a minute, and Taebbean closed his eyes tightly and cringed. Silence was much worse than being yelled at.
“You broke the law,” his brother finally said, and it wasn’t a question. He sounded somewhat calm, but Taebbean knew he was anything but.
He couldn’t find the voice to say anything, so he nodded once.
Without warning he was crushed into the stone wall by his shoulders, iron hands holding him a foot above the ground. Groaning in pain as the back of his head hit the wall, he grimaced at the sight of his much stronger brother holding him there and looking furious enough to kill him himself and save the ferals the trouble.
“You didn’t…by the fires of hell, Taebbean, WHY?!”
“Please, Silas, th-there’s no time for this! We have to go now, they’ll kill all three of us!-“
“I’LL be the one that kills you for this!”
Silas shoved him roughly to the ground, standing there and fuming so much Taebbean half expected him to start radiating heat. He would never raise a hand to hurt him; that much he knew, but right now he wasn’t so sure. However, Silas wasn’t the one to punch him as he got back to his feet. In a move so sudden it was a blur Sithe had charged at him in a rage and started clawing and punching at him as hard as he could. Shocked, Taebbean barely even made a move to defend himself from his crazed little brother, who was putting all his strength into his attacks but still not causing much pain.
“NO! You stupid, stupid IDIOT!!” Sithe snarled. His hair had been blown out of his face, revealing his unnaturally transparent eye that was usually hidden beneath it. Right now both his eyes were glowing with some sort of demonic energy; beastly growls rumbling in his throat with every strike he made.
“Sithe, stop, you have to calm down or you’ll!-“
As quickly as it had started the assault stopped: Sithe was overcome by a violent coughing fit and fell to his knees, hacking and gasping for breath as his eyes continued glowing. Taebbean could only watch helplessly, guilt pounding in his head, and Silas shoved him out of the way immediately. He covered Sithe’s eyes tightly with one hand and began a healing spell with the other, glaring at Taebbean out of the corner of his eyes as he muttered the foreign words.
“Sithe, I’m…I’m sorry…”
“Just shut up, Taebbean,” Silas snapped. “You’ve done enough.”
Wincing, he stepped back and fell silent. It was true. He’d done more than enough to ruin him and his brothers’ lives in just under a day. Overcome by another wave of guilt so intense it was nearly painful, he looked away and closed his eyes again, unwilling to look at the people he’d unwillingly betrayed.
In a minute or so Sithe’s breathing evened out, coming in shallow breaths rather than erratic gasps. Silas didn’t uncover his eyes but stopped muttering, letting out a relieved sigh.
“That’s good, Sithe. Just breathe.”
Sithe moaned quietly and leaned against his side for support as he helped him stand, once he was convinced he was all right. Silas then stared at the wall instead of Taebbean.
“We don’t have time to pack. Just follow me. You’ll have to help me get Sithe airborne, he’ll have a hard time taking off after that attack,” he said steadily, like he was trying to forget there was a problem. But there was still undisguised malice lining his voice.
“…Where are we going to go?” Taebbean gulped, following his brothers out into the hall but keeping his distance, still sensing they wouldn’t want him anywhere close to them after what had just happened.
“We’re going to the last place they’d expect,” Silas muttered.
“Where? They’ll come after us, no matter where we are...”
“They’ll think twice before following us where we’re going,” his brother replied darkly. “We’re going above ground.”
