Guide
Chapter 1
-Lily of Trust

It even hurt to breathe. The expanding and contracting of her ribcage pulled painfully at the edges of the welts scored into her back. She lay carefully on her side, her bound hands resting before her face as she concentrated on breathing as shallowly as possible. In, out, in, her stomach inflate instead of her chest to avoid the stretching. Her whole back felt hot and sticky, caked as it was in days' worth of dried and drying blood. Even blinking was uncomfortable, what with her eyes red and itchy from prolonged bouts of crying.
How had it come to this? When had her life become time passing unmarked in a windowless room? She had tried counting her breaths for a while, but she had difficulty with numbers above one hundred, and had given that long ago? After counting to one hundred twelve or thirteen times, she thought. Now she was curled up on a pallet of filthy straw, choking on mildew with every breath, when a few days ago she would have been at home, on her own sleeping mat, listening to the sounds of her father and sister turning as they dreamed. Or maybe she would have been washing up for breakfast, or helping to tally the goods in the storeroom. But the truth of it was that she wasn't at home. Her world had been picked up, shaken around, and set back down on its head. And she would never see her father or sister again.
Her throat closed up on itself, and tears she had thought run dry sprang to her eyes again. they had done anything to her, they had dealt with him. She had watched as they bound him hand and foot to a stake and drew the lash across his shoulders until his back was flayed of any skin. Then they left him there, to let the sun and wind and creatures finish what they were too afraid to. Demon-kin, they called him, as they called her.
We aren't demons. She hugged that thought to her as though it were something precious. It was one thing she knew for certain, that she was no different from anyone else. We aren't, and neither was.
The threatening tears spilled over, coursing across the bridge of her nose and into the matted locks of hair beneath her head. She was trying not to sob, because it made the pain in her back so much worse, but she couldn't stop!
"Iltani..." She whimpered, crying helplessly into the coarse rope binding her wrists together. Her body shook, and her back protested loudly. She groaned in pain, coughing on hiccuping sobs. Everything hurt, inside and out, but especially deep within her chest. Something tightened painfully, twisting inside every time she thought about her sister. She still didn't understand what had happened...when their luncheon had been interrupted.
Ikaragaitz had noticed first, hadn't he? Of course, that made sense. He was demon-kin; his senses were much sharper than hers or Iltani's. He had been listening to something her sister was saying, as he sawed at the loaf of day-old bread they had pilfered from the kitchen to augment their lunch . ~
"Asharru," Iltani looked up from carving the cheese into chunks and called her back from chasing the grasshoppers at the clearing's edge, "Fetch some water would you? This bread is bone dry, and I'm afraid this latest batch of cheese was saltier than I meant it to be. We'll want something to wash it down."
"Alright," She left her prey be and went to fetch the wooden bowl from Ikara's side. He snatched it up as she drew near and held it over his head, just out of her reach. She growled in frustration and jumped for it a few times before realizing that only amused him more. He was forever taunting her. At first it had been hurtfully meant, but in the past few months the intent had softened into something resembling the teasing of an older sibling. She abandoned her efforts, refusing to entertain him any further, and crossed her arms over her chest with a glare.
"Sister wants the water," She warned him. She had learned that the best way to defuse his tormenting was to remind him of Iltani's attention. He relented with the vaguest hint of a genuine smile and ruffled her hair. She scowled and grabbed the bowl back as she ducked out from beneath his hand. The smile widened into a rare grin as she held the bowl before her like a shield and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Children," Iltani sighed with a comical roll of her eyes. Ikara chuckled and stole a morsel of cheese while she was distracted, earning himself a sharp smack from the flat of the knife. He hissed and snatched his hand back, surprising Asharru. That couldn't have possibly hurt.
No, it wasn't been the smack that startled him. He whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes in the direction of the city. His ears, which came to a faint point, almost seemed to twitch as his body tensed with the effort of listening.
"What is it?" Iltani leaned forward and set a hand on his arm. His lips drew back from his teeth in a small snarl, and his grip on the knife tightened.
"Iltani, take Asharru and go, hurry," He said in a low voice. Her sister's brow furrowed into a frown, and her hand tightened on his arm.
"Do you think they've finally come for you?" Iltani asked him so quietly Asharru had difficulty overhearing.
"Maybe," He replied, turning to face her. "They sound violent this time. You shouldn't be found with me."
"Is it because you're demon-kin?" It had taken all of Asharru's courage to ask. He turned his red-flecked eyes on her, and she nearly dropped the bowl she was supposed to fill with water. He still frightened her, though she had managed to look past the evidence of demon blood after he had declared his intention to court Iltani. It was those eyes of his; they made it easy to imagine he was capable of demonic violence.
"You're demon-kin, and they're afraid of you," She repeated, clutching the bowl to her chest. "And since they can't chase you off, you think they might try and hurt you?"
He knelt before her and set a heavy hand on her shoulder. She gulped and brought the bowl up as a shield in something more than play.
"It's not just myself they may be afraid of," Ikaragaitz said gravely. Iltani gasped sharply from behind him. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. Asharru swallowed hard, finding herself caught in that red gaze.

"You mean sister. Sister's wings?" She ventured. "They might want to hurt her too?" Ikara nodded.
"That's ridiculous!" Iltani protested, causing them both to look back at her. "If they intended to rid themselves of me, surely they would have done something before now!"
"I think my presence might be a catalyst," Ikara cut her off. "Listen to me Iltani. Demon fever has been rising in town. We both know that. We knew this might happen. Now take Asharru and find somewhere to hide. I'll hold them here. They need to be shown how foolish it is to threaten us." His voice had gone grim. Her sister's green eyes flashed angrily as they met his, and her hands curled into white knuckled fists at her sides. Her gaze slid down, meeting Asharru's, and the steely resolve there softened. She nodded as Ikara rose to his feet and pulled her into his arms. Iltani clung tightly to him for a moment, but the angry murmur of the approaching mob became audible even to their human ears, and she stepped away to take Asharru's hand. Ikara reached out and snagged her elbow. Asharru jerked to a stop and blinked up at him. Her blood ran cold as she saw that his eyes had gone entirely red.
"Keep her safe," He warned her in a gravely, growling voice. She barely managed a frightened nod before he released her and turned to face the growing roar of the oncoming crowd.
The two of them ran. Asharru clutched her sister's hand tightly, though whether out of fear or a desire to keep her promise to Ikara, she wasn't sure. Iltani seemed to flee blindly, her face blank of any of the panic Asharru felt. They knew this countryside as well as they knew the inside of their own home. Asharru realized her sister was leading them towards a small ravine, the walls of which were pockmarked with holes large enough for a person to curl up inside. It was a good place to hide, but if they were caught, they'd be easily trapped. Already there were sounds of something crashing through the sparse, dry brush behind them.
Asharru squeaked in surprise as Iltani let out a strangled cry and staggered to a halt. She turned and looked back the way they had come, her face twisted into an expression of shock and pain.
"Sister?!" Asharru stared up at her and tugged sharply at the hem of her sash. Iltani looked down at her in surprise, as if she had forgotten she was there. The noise of pursuit grew louder. Asharru realized she was crying, the fear and bewilderment getting the better of her.
"Sharru..." Iltani went to her knees and Asharru found herself wrapped in a familiar embrace. She watched, frightened and confused, as her sister wiped away the tears with the edge of the sash. She closed her eyes as the person she loved most pressed a kiss to her forehead and lifted her back to her feet.
"Keep running," Her sister said firmly. "You are not a part of this. You are normal. You have nothing to fear from them."
"But you-" She tried to protest.
"No," Iltani pressed a finger to her lips to quiet her. "For whatever reason, I was born different from you, from them. And no matter what, my place is with him."
"They'll hurt you!" She wailed, hugging her sister's neck tightly. "I can't let them!"
Iltani gently disentangled the clinging arms and rose to her feet. "Go on to the ravine. You remember? Where we used to play. I'll come for you there." With that, she turned her back. Asharru stood immobile for a few moments before she realized her sister had dismissed her presence from her mind entirely. She swallowed hard and ran, though not where she had been told to go. Instead she slipped into the bushes not far away, still clutching the bowl as though it could protect her.
The hill practically exploded with people. Asharru knew all of them. She had known them her entire life. Their faces were so twisted by rage and fear that she had trouble recognizing some of them. Some of them carried makeshift weapons, hoes and spades, pokers from their fires and knives from their kitchens. Her sister stood before them, drawn up to her full height. A regal air surrounded her, as though they faced down not the eldest daughter of merchant's assistant, but the king's own consort.
As Asharru scanned the mob, her heart leapt into her throat and lodged there. Held immobile between two of their neighbors was her father. The hair on the left side of his head was matted down by blood, and he hung limply in their grasp. She began to shake violently as she realized they had intended to capture Iltani all along. Why else would their father have been taken prisoner? If Iltani was suspected of being demon-kin, that meant either her father was as well, or her mother had been, in which case he had dallied with one. Either crime could get him killed!
There was a sudden commotion within the crowd, followed by a furious howl. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she saw Iltani jerk sharply in response. That was Ikara's voice! They had taken him captive too?! But how? How had a group of farmers and shopkeepers managed to best a half-demon?
She caught a flash of gold-embroidered robes within the frantic churning of the mob, and her stomach lurched. Priestesses. There were priestesses among the attackers. No wonder they'd be able to subdue Ikara. His demonic strength was nullified by Inanna's power. Even so, it took two preisteses and six ordinary men to restrain him. Asharru didn't think they could hold him back for long though. At the sight of Iltani standing alone before the crowd, he thrashed and lunged even harder. His eyes blazed red and he bared his fangs in an animal-like snarl. Asharru swallowed hard, afraid of what might happen if he broke loose. Could he even tell friend from enemy when he was like that? Or was he really as dangerous as everyone thought?
No, no, his eyes were locked on Iltani, no matter how hard he fought to shake those men off. All he cared about was her safety. Asharru felt a small surge of hope; maybe if he got loose, he and Sister could get away, and find somewhere where people didn't hunt demons...
"Why are you doing this?" Iltani's voice rose clearly above the angry shouts, silencing them without effort. "I see my father bound before me...why? What cause have you?"
There were cries from within the crowd, snarls and mutters of 'demon whore'. Ikara growled and lunged again, nearly pulling all six of the men holding him back off their feet. Another man stepped forward, brandishing a club. His arm rose and fell, and the cudgel cracked across the back of Ikara's head. He staggered and fell back, supported between the hands of his attackers. Asharru swallowed a cry, flattening herself closer to the ground and covering her mouth with one dirt smudged hand.
One of the priestesses stepped forward, her hands raised in a gesture of peace and calming. Asharru wasn't fooled. As far as the priesthood went, open hands could easily mean they were casting some spell. Everyone knew that.
"Peace, lady," The priestess said with a false smile. "No harm is meant to you or your family."
"Then I suppose it is an accident that my father appears beaten, and my lover is struck down before me?" Iltani's voice rang with disgust, mocking the priestess' placating words. Asharru gave an internal cheer, wishing all her strength and support to her sister. Though she could not see her face, she could imagine the anger in those green eyes.
"Your lover is a demon, fool girl," The gold-robed woman replied coldly, her mouth twisting into a sneer. "And you stand accused of demon- blood yourself. Though through your own admittance of coupling with this...creature...I do not need evidence of demonic power to destroy you." She gestured towards Ikara, who even now struggled to regain his feet. Asharru bit her lip and fisted her hands in the dry grass beneath her. Get up! She urged him silently. Do something!
"Destroy me?" Iltani laughed derisively, "I think you overestimate your Goddess-given powers, priestess." The space between the two danced with sparks visible even to Asharru and the other onlookers. She gulped and pulled a bit more brush between her face and the charged air. This wasn't just tension, this was something more real. It felt like the air before the hearth at home, hot and stifling and hard to breathe. The priestess hissed in rage and brought her hands together in a definite gesture of spellcasting. Light exploded between her and Iltani, and the mere humans in the crowd yelped and turned away from it.
Asharru rubbed frantically at her eyes, trying to clear away the purple flares from her vision. What happened?! Did the spell work? Had her sister been struck down by a bolt of lightning, or incinerated, or...
She realized with a start that the light hadn't disappeared. It had faded to a soft glow, surrounding her sister in a nimbus of light. Asharru stared in shock just like everyone else as the back of Iltani's tunic burst into shreds and a pair of feathery white wings unfurled from her shoulders. Her hair, normally as night-dark as Asharru's, was now a straight fall of silver. She stood quietly, looking from side to side as if assessing the situation.
Asharru couldn't breathe past the lump in her throat. Her hiding place, just behind and a little to the right of her sister, had offered her a clear view of the wings spreading from Iltani's back. She had seen them once before, when she was very young. She had fallen sick with the fever- plague that had claimed her mother's life, and spent a week hovering the shady line between life and the shadowlands. Hazily, she remembered Iltani leaning over her, surrounded by those wings and that same white light. Her fever had faded, and within another four days she had been well enough to help tend to those still sickened. It took her nearly a month to work up the courage to ask her sister about what she had seen, but Iltani could offer no explanation.
"I was born this way," She offered in lieu of an actual answer. "I...have always been...different."
But Asharru was certain that when Iltani had taken the fever away, her hair had remained the same obsidian-black.
The priestess reeled back in shock, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn't known why some people called Iltani demon-kin. Now that she was seeing it with her own eyes, Asharru suspected she thought Iltani to be full demonblood somehow born into a human family.
"Kill her!" She shrieked, working another spell between her hands. The people around her, men who had known Iltani and Asharru all their lives, gripped their makeshift weapons and charged forward with a hairraising cry.
"NonoNO!" Asharru screamed, scrambling free of her hiding place. In her hands she still held the wooden bowl, held no longer as a shield but as a weapon. She heard Ikara howl again, and the cluster of men around him scatterd as he burst free and fell upon them with claw-like hands.
The first of the attackers reached Iltani, raising their knives and hoes to strike her down. She laughed again, in a voice Asharru did not recognize, and waved her hand as if shooing away a cloud of midges. The men raised their voices in a collective cry of pain and shock as the light surrounding her flared outward and swallowed them. It faded back into a glow around her body, but there was no sign of man or weapon.
Asharru continued to run towards her sister, aware of Ikara clawing his way through the crowd with the same intent. She was only a few meters away when an arm clamped down around her waist and she was swept off her feet. She squirmed and kicked and screamed, but the man holding her tossed her over his shoulder and pinned her arms at her sides.
Driven forward by fear and the mindless mentality of a mob, the rest of the crowd surged towards the silver creature standing in Iltani's place. They, too, were swallowed up by the light, though the winged woman now frowned in concentration and anger. Asharru gave up struggling and watched hopefully as Ikara neared her.
The earth beneath his feet reared up, and the nearby shrubs twined themselves around his legs as he stumbled backwards. The two priestesses had joined forces and stood together to keep him bound. Iltani turned towards them, and Asharru gaped at her as she realized her previously green eyes were now the same shade as her hair. Her silver eyes narrowed as she faced the priestesses, and her hands lit up with eye-watering light as she advanced upon them. They stood their ground, muttering an incantation beneath their breath and sketching protective sigils in the air before them with their joined hands. Asharru, her captor, and Ikara, all watched dumbfounded as Iltani's light collided with the the priestesses' spells in a blast of fire. For a moment it looked as though the force of it would push Iltani off her feet, but she stood her ground and leaned into the flames. She set her hands before her and the fire parted. The protecting marks lit up and burned to ash. The priestesses gaped and clung to each other, gibbering madly in an effort to summon one last spell.
Iltani laughed. Asharru covered her ears to block out the strange, different voice, but she still heard Ikara screaming for Iltani to stop. The pressure on the air grew until Asharru felt as though her eardrums would pop, and she screwed her eyes shut
Light shone redly through her eyelids, and the air split with a deafening clap. A sharp gust of wind struck those still standing, bowling them of their feet. Asharru tucked herself into a ball as she was sent rolling through the scratchy brush. She came to a sudden stop up against a rise of ground and lay dazed for a moment. Her whole body ached from being tossed and snatched and thrown, but at least she got her wind back quickly. She pushed herself up and knuckled grit from her watering eyes. Everything was all blurry...
"ILTANI!" Ikara's scream broke the silence that had been ringing in her ears. Asharru shook her head to clear it and looked wildly around for her sister. Of her, or either of the priestesses, there was no sign. She stared, dumfounded, at the circle of charred earth where they had stood. Ikara was pulling madly at his bindings, which had reverted to nothing more than weeds once the source of the spell had been eliminated.
Asharru didn't even realize she was running until she fell to her hands and knees in scorched dirt. She clawed at it frantically, half blinded by tears. Where had they gone?! This couldn't be what it looked like! Her fingers cracked against something solid. Glass. The force of the spell had been strong enough to melt the sandy ground and fuse it into glass...nothing human or demonic could possibly have survived a blast of such power...
"Where is she where is she?! Nononooo..." She was sobbing hard, almost too hard to breathe. Her whole body shook with it. She buried her face in her ash-blackened hands and cried hysterically, coughing and choking on the thick cloud of dust her furious digging had kicked up.
There came a thump from off to her side. Ikara had finally loosed himself. He dropped down to his knees beside her and stared blankly at the burnt out circle.
"It was...too much..." He said numbly. "Too much power...it just burnt her out...I told her. I told her! I knew!" He fisted his hands in the ground and threw his head back to howl. Tears streaked through the blood and grime on his cheeks as he beat at the earth with his fists, snarling a denial in a language Asharru didn't understand.
Without thinking, she flung her arms around his waist and buried her face in his side, not even trying to control her tears. He gripped at the back of her tunic with one hand, pulling her close, and leaned his forehead into the other as rage gave way to grief and he sobbed. His tears fell, striking the back of Asharru's neck and sliding down between her shoulder blades. They didn't burn, or hurt, the way demon blood and tears were supposed to. But they were hot, like hers.
Someone cried out angrily, there was a thud, and Ikara was knocked away from her. He skidded across the ground, clutching at the short throwing spear that seemed to have sprouted from his side. As Asharru watched, numb with shock, he pushed himself up on his elbow, grasped the spear shaft, and yanked it free of his body. His eyes shifted red, and she barely recognized him past the rage and pain that twisted at his face.
"You bastards must really want to die," He growled, using the spear to regain his footing. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. "You'll pay...you're all going to pay!"
Asharru spun round in place to look in the direction he faced. She hadn't known anyone else was there! Still standing on the hilly rise were the men holding her father, the man who had grabbed her earlier, and a handful of others who must have taken cover when Iltani...
She yelped and dove to the side as he ran past her, hefting the spear in his hand. But these men weren't as poorly armed as the others had been. One or two of them carried bows and quivers, and they already had arrows nocked in anticipation. Ikara knocked the first of the missiles aside with a contemptuous flick of the spear, but the other caught him in the shoulder. The arrow was quickly followed by another that grazed his cheek, and that one by yet another that sank into his thigh. He stumbled and slowed, and the other men on the hill gripped their own weapons and charged towards him.
They're going to kill him...Asharru knew this to be fact, but she couldn't move. Her body was frozen on its knees. It wasn't until someone managed to land a blow on Ikara, slamming the butt of a shovel against his cheek and cracking his head back, that she lurched to her feet and ran towards the melee, screaming at the top of her lungs.
She grabbed one of the men on the fringes of the skirmish by the belt and pulled, kicking at the back of his legs and ankles. He growled at her, and his fist crashed into the side of her head. She fell onto her back, her vision swimming madly. Someone else grabbed her by the collar of her tunic and hauled her to her feet. Her arms were pulled behind her back and yanked cruelly upwards. She yelped and stood up on her toes to try and relieve the pressure, but couldn't pull away.
Ikara fought his way loose of the mob, leaving several still bodies behind. He fell into a wary crouch, panting for breath and bleeding freely from many serious looking wounds. Asharru had never seen so much blood in her life. If she wasn't so scared, she might have been sick.
Ikara's gaze flicked between his remaining attackers. His pupils dilated and shrank crazily, and Asharru held her breath. What was he going to do? What could he do?
"...You're not enough," He said, though she could barely understand him, his voice was so deep and grating. "Killing just you pathetic few...it's not nearly enough!" He hurled the spear towards the group, impaling one man through the chest and wounding another. Then he just disappeared. Right in front of all of them, into thin air. A collective, startled yelp rose from those remaining. Anxious whispers of "demon magic..." ran through them. Asharru sagged in her captor's grip. He was gone. He just...left. She didn't understand.
"They're still demon-kin," the man holding her said in response to someone else. She looked up at him, wondering who he meant. "What should we do with them?"
They were all looking at her now. She stared back, swallowing hard. Her? They meant her? And father too? She began to shake. She'd heard about how those with demon blood were dealt with, if they were ever caught. Suddenly the pain in her shoulders and arms didn't seem so bad, compared to what might be coming.
"The old man is past saving,"
"What about the girl?"
"...She's young yet. Maybe she can be saved. Maybe the demon taint can be beaten out of her." Disclaimer: All characters and ideas herein belong to myself and my cohort. Kindly ensure that they stay that way.

Author's Note: Just an experiment with a character's backstory that I thought turned out rather well. The entire story stands on its own rather well, and may be developed aside from the storyline that Ex and I had planned. Let's see if I can continue this.