Young Writers Society

It ended on a rainy day in the town of Frizell. The church had just rung it’s last bell, signaling the end of the service and the beginning of the procession to the graveyard. Many people had gathered to say goodbye, but no one had expected the sudden loss of someone so close and dear to so many people. But alas, these things happened too often in this era. Such things were a normality as the evil of the world more often than not breaks through humanity's defense. This world was plagued with monsters, and not just those of the animalistic type. Humans were a scourge to each other, killing and destroying one another. . . Although things such as this mattered not, when no one knows just who or what murdered this girl.

The first to exit the church was the preacher. He was a tall lanky man with a large black mustache and a bald head. Atop his shiny head sat a top hat, and in his left eye lay a golden monocle. The man peered down the stone steps of the church silently watching the rain drip down from the roof above him. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled forth a golden pocket watch.

“Four past six…” The preacher mumbled.

This was not what he had wanted to do today. What preacher wished to preside over the death of a youngling? He sighed, turning on his heels to look back at the small white church. It was a quaint place, at least compared to some of the churches in the city, but it did its job. There was only one abnormality to this church, and that was its steeple. It was made of polished black obsidian, towards the top the Lord’s symbol had been carved and inlaid with bright cobalt. The congregation had grown smaller and smaller, as more and more people moved to the city. That, of course, was where all the jobs were. Yes, it was indeed an interesting time, if you had told Reverend Lucifer D. Jones forty years ago that more than half the population would have moved to the city, he would have laughed in your face. And yet that’s exactly what had happened. When that damned doctor had discovered a new metal, a plethora of new industry had sprouted up from seemingly nowhere. The Reverend was ripped from his ponderings when the doors to the church swung open. Two women were holding them open, while a few men carried the casket outside. Jones moved out of the way, as the casket and then the families slowly passed him. Many people were weeping over the lost soul, but Jones knew the soul was safely resting with his all-mighty Lord. For the many who had known the girl, they all agreed that it wasn't her time to pass. The Reverend had even felt sympathy, as he too thought the death was sudden. But crying never got anyone anywhere. Jones reached for his metal-tipped cane that was propped by the door, and tapped it twice on the cobbled ground as he proceeded to follow behind the procession. The pitter-patter of rain upon the black umbrellas filled everyone's ears, as they all meandered down the cobble streets, each step echoing across the area. Jones had been surprised by how many had shown up to pay their respects. The girl was young after all, and the Reverend didn’t expect her to have many contacts in the adult world. Upon reaching the graveyard, the casket was placed in front of the grave and the men moved back to join their wives. Reverend Jones cleared his throat and the sea of black parted so that he could move to stand in front of the crowd. He turned to face the crowd, his black mustache twitching in anticipation.

“Dearly Beloved,” As he began to speak, his eyes turned from their usual silver color to a bright blue. “We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of a good soul. Our benevolent Lord up in the skies has brought home his creation, and even though we all may think it too soon, our righteous Lord has a plan. As a vessel for our Creator, I can assure you all that the young soul has joined her brothers and sisters in sweet slumber, in the heavens far above us. Mourn this day for the loss of life, but rejoice for her life is not yet over,” Everyone’s attention was fixated on him, almost as if they were being hypnotized. He paused for just a moment, allowing his message to sink in, before continuing, “Our Lord wills us to stay strong even through the toughest of times. I ask that you all join me in prayer, so that we may send this young lady off together.” The cries of the mourners became softer as to allow everyone to hear the preacher’s prayer.

“Dear Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. I pray to you now that you take this young soul into your fold and give her rest in the afterlife. All of us gather here today in sorrow, as we have lost yet another to the waves of evil. On this day Lord, I pray that you will continue to bless each and every one of us here and begin to heal the hearts of the family and friends that were affected by the coming home of your child. We are not worthy of your all-powerful name and stand before you united in our faith. It is in your gracious name we pray, A-men.” The waterworks of the mourners fully commenced once more, as the Reverend finished his prayer. Jones looked down on the gathered and sighed, his eyes turning silver once more, “This draws to close our service for the fallen. If you have a need of me I’ll be in my office,” He tipped his hat to them. “Good day.”

The black sea parted as the Reverend began his journey back to the church. He was deep in thought, thinking about the future of his congregation when an ear-piercing scream came from above him. Jones jumped, his cane falling to the ground adding to the headache-inducing sound. His eyes tore upwards as he noticed a large object falling from the sky, a trail of fire behind it. The Reverend shook his head, more of that blasted metal. He paused in his tracks, taking a few moments to watch the terrestrial comet slowly make its way to the ground. It crept across the sky, yet it seemed to be getting closer… in fact, it was as if it was aimed directly at Jones. Terrifying thoughts went through his head, and within a few seconds, a deafening boom was heard as the object collided with solid ground. The preacher shook in his boots, sure that he had just been smitten from existence. He slowly opened his eyes to find he was absolutely fine, yet the smell of smoke was causing his nostrils to flare. Jones slowly turned around and to his horror there off in the distance was his quaint church set ablaze by the comet. Most of the building had been knocked down by the explosion, but the remaining pieces were burning under neon pink flames. He fell to his knees in shock… everything gone. There was no church to return to, it would take at least a year to rebuild, and by then the congregation would have moved onto a larger church. How was he supposed to lead under his Lord if he hadn’t a temple to worship in? The sky grew darker and a whooshing sound was heard overhead. This sound was more akin to a large object slowly parting the air, rather than a fast piercing sound that split you at the seams. The Reverend glanced upward once more and found a friendly sight. There above him parting the ever stretching grey skies, was a giant Lambuos. It’s enormous winged fins created columns of air that burst towards the ground. It’s massive black body, covered by thick black chitin that glittered in the now-appearing sun. The rain receded, and the Lambuos let out a beautiful cry, it was like a sonata to the ears.

It was indeed a majestic sight to behold, and a rare one nonetheless. Lamboui normally didn’t come this close to Frizell, as they weren’t fond of large groups of humans. In the past, they had been hunted for food and their thick chitin. The island that Frizell sat upon was lower in the sky than the larger cities. On a clear day, one might be able to catch a glimpse of the capital, Terros, floating far above. Jones was abruptly brought back to reality, as someone tripped over his kneeling body. The offender fell down beside him and the Reverend immediately noticed the silver collar around their neck. Another damn slave, those countrymen didn’t have a tight enough hold on their property. First his church and now a dirty demi-human.

The Reverend rose to his feet and grabbed the stunned slave by her hair, “Get up you clumsy bitch! Where the hells’ your owner!?” Jones sneered. The slave girl didn’t answer, instead she avoided eye contact. This only pissed the preacher off more, “I asked you a question!” He kneed her in the gut and she fell to the ground again, “I’ll ask you one more time, where’s your owner?” The girl's cat-like ears drooped as she held her arms to her gut, coughing profusely.

“M-Master R-Roy.” She stuttered out, still avoiding his icy stare.

“Roy huh? Drunk bastard...” Jones took his hat off and rubbed his bald head, before picking up his cane from where it had fallen nearby. He twirled his mustache back into shape and adjusted his collar before speaking once again, “Get up. I’m taking you home.” The Reverend started to walk, expecting the slave girl to follow behind him. A glance back, however, revealed she hadn’t moved at all, “What’s the matter?! Do I need to come beat some sense into you?!” He shouted as he shook his cane at her menacingly.

She quickly shook her head and sprinted to catch up. The slave kept her head low only looking a few steps ahead. Jones peered down at the young slave, taking note of her grey colored cat ears and skinny tail. She was wearing a tan smock that hung down below her knees. Her bare feet were almost silent against the cobble, much unlike the Reverend’s black boots that clattered and clopped against the stone. He shook his head, internally groaning, she couldn’t be over the age of twelve. Slaves and demi-humans, in general, were thought of as lesser beings. The Lord taught that only pure-blooded humans were worthy of worshipping him. That being the case, the humans had enslaved the smaller population of demi-humans. Slave traders could be found in every major city, but there were strict laws in place about the distribution of slaves. Only demi-humans and beings considered of lesser degree were allowed to be traded. Any trader found in possession of slaves that were classified as higher beings were subjugated to the death penalty. Jones being a Holy Man he had never had any use for slaves. Plus he despised demi-humans like any upstanding member of man-kind. The cries of the Lambous shook the air once more as the Reverend’s gaze was fixated upward. It seemed the large whale-like animal was making it’s exit, as ever so slowly the sound of its winged fins faded. The Reverend looked back to the slave, noticing she was shaking violently as they walked.

“What are you, cold?” He asked blatantly.

The slave girl sucked in a breath of air, and her shaking became less prominent. “N-No S-Sir.” She continued to stare at the ground not daring to look up at the man.

“Then why are you shaking like that?” Jones’ voice rose slightly and he saw her flinch. She didn’t answer, and before The Reverend could get upset about it they had arrived at Roy’s property. It was a large stretch of land, probably twenty or thirty acres worth. A dirt road jutted out from the side of the cobbled street, and a wooden fence had been built to keep animals and such in. A gate divided the property from the road, and above it hung a sign that read ‘907 Jillnee Street’. Beyond the gate the preacher was able to spot Roy’s home, his chimney currently puffing black smoke into the sky. There was a second building beside the home, it being a workshop. It too was spewing copious amounts of black smoke into the sky, which meant Roy was probably at his forge.

{Well at least he’s home.} Thought The Reverend. Jones took his right hand and roughly grabbed the girl by her collar. He then began forward, throwing the gate open with one hand. It swung back on its hinges with a loud bang, causing a flock of birds to flee from a nearby tree. As he approached the home, two slaves came out to greet him. One was a tall and lanky fox-woman, and the other a satyr. The woman ventured towards him, a pleasant smile on her face.

“Can I help you, Sir?” She looked him up and down, her head tilted to the side. The slave before him was wearing much nicer clothes than the slave he was holding by the collar. In fact, he’d never seen a slave with such nice garb. She was wearing a fancy red dress that flowed down her figure and ended above her knees with white frills. It clashed perfectly with her bright orange fox ears and tail. Although she was dressed frivolously she still had a silver slave collar around her neck.

The Reverend blinked a few times taken aback by the exquisite nature of the demi-human. He shook his head trying to rid it of such unholy thoughts. Jones cleared his throat, gripping the slave’s collar in his right hand tighter. “I’m looking for your Master, I found this girl wandering the streets near my church.” He held up the slave to show the fox-woman.

She nodded her head, still holding that same smile. “Well if you’ll follow me Reverend.” The woman then gestured with her hand and proceeded to walk towards the workshop. Jones scowled at the Satyr and began following behind the slave woman. As he walked he noticed the many slaves working the fields that surrounded the house. Roy was not only a smith but a farmer as well. He grew crops such as cotton, hemp, and silvenium. The cotton and hemp were sold to the market, while the silvenium was able to be smelted down in a forge. This metal could then be made into trinkets, or collars like the slaves wore. Silvenium had an unbreakable magical bond, once it was attached to something only the most skillful of Aurasmiths could undo it. Eventually, they found themselves at the entrance to Roy’s workshop. The slave woman pushed open the door to the shop, a blast of hot air came forth washing over the small party. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting inside the workshop. In one corner sat a large forge, it was currently on and full of molten metal. Close beside it resided two anvils, varying in size to fit the need of any project. Tools of all shapes and sizes hung on the wall. This massive stone building was being lit entirely by the forge, it’s light dancing off the tools in a rather melodic manner. In the opposite corner, several workbenches were set up, and standing in front of one of them was the man Jones had come to see.

Roy was shorter than the preacher, being about half his height. However, the man was very stout. Huge muscles covered his entire body and added to the man’s tough physique. Down his back hung a long grey ponytail, having been tediously groomed over the years into what it was now. The smith also had a large grey beard to match his ponytail. As the group approached Roy turned around to greet them. He had a stern look on his face, his bright amber eyes dancing along with the light from the forge. It took only a few moments for those eyes to fall upon The Reverend, and once they had his stern look changed into a happy grin. “Well, Well, Well… Look who it is, The Reverend done come to see me in me own forge.” Roy had a wheezy voice from years of heavy cigar smoking. His yellowed teeth glimmered as he smiled brightly.

Jones sighed, “Unfortunately this is not a visit of pleasure..” He moved the slave girl in front of him, she was clawing at her collar, clearly in pain with how The Reverend was holding her. Roy’s expression returned to its stern state as he eyed the small cat-girl.

“Aye, she’s one of mine. Where in the nine hells did you find her?” He slowly started to approach Jones, and as he did so The Reverend released his grip allowing the slave to fall to her knees.

“Found her outside the church… In fact, she quite literally ran into me.” The preacher shook his head not wanting to spread the news of his church being reduced to ashes. “After a squabble, she told me you owned her, and I did what any upstanding man would do, and returned your property.” He paused for a moment, adding, “I hope she’s not too banged up.”

Roy let out a hearty chuckle at the preacher’s remark, “Damn girl 'as run away from me three times this week. Oy! Foxy get yer’ arse over here!” The fox-woman, who had been standing silently by the door, carefully obeyed making sure not to get her dress caught on anything.

“How can I be of assistance Master?” She bowed her head not looking at either man directly. This was out of politeness as she wasn’t of equal worth in terms of status.

“Take er… what’s er’ name…” Roy fell silent in thought before piping up, “Molly! Ha knew I remembered it.” The man licked his chapped lips, taking a step away from Molly. “Take er’ back to the house and clean er’ up.” He nodded having given his order. Foxy quickly scooped up Molly in her arms, she bowed to both men before exiting the workshop. There were a few awkward moments of silence as neither man knew what to say. “I’m er’... Sorry, you had to see that Reverend.” Roy cleared his throat, “Is there anythin’ I can do to pay ya’ back fer’ yer troubles?”

Jones quickly shook his head holding up both hands in an assuring gesture, “That won’t be necessary… Consider it my good act of the day.” The Reverend smiled politely, his silver eyes reflecting the fire like a mirror. He shifted on his feet, rather uncomfortable being alone in the workshop.

“Well, I thank ye’ anyway. If ther’s ever somethin’ I can do fer you just holler.” The smaller man nodded his head after he spoke, and turned back to his work without a second thought. The preacher nodded to him as well and started to make his exit from the shop.

Once The Reverend was back outside he breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the situation had finally been taken care of. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and Jones took a few moments to gaze at its bright colors. It had been a long day he’d lost a lot and he was not looking forward to returning to the church. He was sure the populace would make a scene, they’d try to comfort him, and someone would offer to take him in since the church doubled as his home. Why had those meteors started to fall from the sky? What being far above was sending them down? It couldn’t be The Lord… he’d never destroy his own temple. Deep in his thoughts, The Reverend hadn’t noticed that his body had started its walk back to the church. He was just passing the graveyard when he was snapped back to reality by yet another scream. Jones frantically looked around for the noise, wondering if another meteor was soon to land. It was a few moments before he noticed a bright blue glow coming from the graveyard. The scream echoed out again, it was definitely human. He instinctively ran towards the noise, throwing open the metal gate to the graveyard and tearing up the hill.

When he made it to the top he stopped, panting heavily. Jones leaned on his cane trying not to pass out from the sudden exertion of his muscles. His breath slowly returned to him, as The Reverend started to survey the graveyard. The glow became brighter and brighter, as his eyes came closer to the source. There was a group of people standing around the grave of the girl who he had laid to rest earlier that day. Bright blue beams were emanating from the earth, surrounding the freshly dug grave. Jones gasped in surprise as the ground began to tremble… the last thing he saw before falling unconscious was the sight of the ground splitting in two.