|Reign of the Demons
Author: Star the Foxhound PM
She can either destroy the peace that has rested over their lands for years, or she can help to save it, before everything starts to spin violently out of control.Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Friendship - Chapters: 7 - Words: 10,760 - Reviews: 1 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 03-09-11 - Published: 04-06-10 - id: 2793758
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A cool, damp cloth touched my forehead and I cracked open my eyes to be met by concerned blue ones. When they drew back, I focused on the man's face, the human who had been with Moon. "Samuel…" The name came to my lips, drawn from the haze of my mind, "Where's Moon?"
"She's in the room next to this one." Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm glad you're awake, I'm not doctor so I didn't know what to do for you. And there's no one else for miles around here."
I pushed myself up on one elbow. "I don't need a doctor, I'm good at bouncing back."
"A warrior?" Sam asked. "You did well against that other demon. It was impressive."
"I'm no warrior; I'm an outcast from demon society." Smiling faintly, I sat up in the bed I had found myself in, the cloth falling from my forehead.
The haze was clearing from my mind, making it easier to think straight. I figured the encounter had been a success because I'd found Moon and was now in the same place as her. That was half the struggle there, it was time to train and get her people where she belonged. I explained all this to Sam.
"After we return her to her people, what will you do?" Sam asked.
I shrugged. "My part in the fight will be over then, and I'm glad. This isn't my battle and I don't want to fight in it. I'll go off on my own and try to build a life for myself."
"You won't return to your people?"
"No, I won't." I shook my head. "They'll never welcome me back and I don't care. I don't belong with those war loving warriors. I never have, and I don't want to be a part of it. Fighting is pointless. And anyway, there's an old friend I'd like to try and find, but I don't know what happened to her."
Sam listened carefully to what I said. "Who is this friend?"
The name almost slipped off my tongue but I stopped myself. "Her name doesn't matter to you, or who she is. I'm going to talk to Moon, Samuel."
"Please, just call me Sam," he said, standing up, his eyes fixed on my face.
Throwing off the covers, I glanced around the room. "Alright, Sam, where's my sword?"
"Against the wall." He gestured with one hand.
In less then a minute I had the sword buckled to my waist and was walking out of the room. It was a nice house they'd brought me too, the floor and walls neatly cut pieces of wood. While the room I'd come from had been small, and so was the room I stepped into, I admired it. And Moon was also in the room, sitting in a wooden chair at a table. Still trying to decide what to say, I took the few steps across the room.
"Moon." She looked up when I said her name, which was a good sign even though I was sure she'd either overheard me earlier, or had Sam tell her.
Her round, brown eyes stared at me before a smile broke out across her face. "You're the one who saved Sam and me," She said, "Are you alright? Sam carried you all the way back here. He says it's his house and that he built it himself."
I nodded. "Moon, I've got something important to say to you, something I don't think will come easily."
"What is it?" As I stood there, staring at her, I could see the innocence reflecting from her eyes. How long would it take for that innocence to be shattered? For it surely would be. My father and my people would whisk her innocence away before she was even given a chance to grow up.
I couldn't grasp how to explain to this child, for in my eyes she was still a child, that someone was trying to kill her and that she would have to step up and be a leader to her people. When I was her age my only worry was being teased, schoolwork and trying to stay clear of my father's temper. But I had to explain it all, for it was dangerous for her not to know.
"My name is Ceila Storm" I said at last, "I'm sorry for the way we had to meet yesterday, it wasn't how I hoped it would turn out, but it could have been worse for all of us."
"Ceila…" Her voice was soft when she spoke. "I'm scared. Sam said my name's Moon, but I don't remember…"
Comforting never was my strong point but I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around her. Moon leaned against me and I felt a sob shake her body. I wanted nothing more then to say it would all be alright but I was afraid that would only give her false hope in the even I couldn't save her. What right did I have to give her hope that could very well be false?
"I know you're scared," I said, "I know you don't remember anything. But I'm going to help you the best I can, alright?"
Against my chest I felt her jerk her head up and down once. Taking that as an answer, I started talking.
I told her all that I knew about my father's plans, her mother's death, her people, my reason for coming to find her and the danger if we were discovered by my kind. There was no reason to hide the fact that my father wanted to kill her and would if he ever got the chance. We'd been lucky once, but luck wasn't something I was going to count on.
When I paused and looked at her, I could see tears in her eyes. "I don't want to die," Moon said, her voice close to a sob.
"I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself," I said, "Fighting is a horrible experience and we're going to try and avoid it, but if you go in knowing nothing we'll be in trouble. I won't always be around to protect you."
Maybe I was too harsh, Moon was clearly terrified, her hands clutching the shirt on my back as if her life depended on it, fresh tears in her eyes. It made me feel awkward. I'd never learned anything about comforting. It wasn't usual for a demon to show any compassion to others, so I didn't have anything to go by.
"If you aren't always going to be around, how long are you staying?" This time Moon actually raised her head from my chest to look at me.
She thought that I would just leave? I was starting to have a hard time picturing this young teenager as the leader of her people.
I sighed softly. "I don't have plans to leave right now. What I was trying to say is that one day I might not be here. I can't follow you around forever so I'm going to teach you how to stand on your own."
"I don't want you to leave," Moon said.
"Don't worry about it." I started to move away only to feel Moon's arms tighten even more around me.
For a moment I stayed there, not wanting to break whatever comfort she might have gotten from my presence. But I felt awkward enough with the comforting thing without having a teenager attached to me for dear life.
"Let go of me," I said at last, trying to pry Moon's arms away when she didn't respond. "Moon, I can't stay in this room all day, let go of me."
"I don't want you to leave." At that point I found myself growing rather irritated. Being clung to was not in my plan for the day, or for the time I needed to spend with her. Was this girl seriously the leader of the dogans?
"Let go!" Snapping this time, I gave her a rough shove, enough that she let go and dropped to the floor, but not so much that I would hurt her.
As soon as I'd done that, I felt guilty. Moon had to be going through a lot, I didn't need to get angry on her on top of that. It looked like I would need some lessons on how to help her, because I still didn't have a clue as I stared as the young teenager who was now on the floor, tightly hugging her knees. Moon was the leader of her people, if anything was going to get done, it looked like we both had a lot of work to do.
"Listen to me," I said, kneeling down in front of her. "You can't hide from the world, no matter what might be happening. You need to stand up and be the leader your people are going to need you to be. Whether or not you want to lead them or not, it is your duty. I'm leaving now and when I come back, I hope to find you off the floor and ready to work with me. I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself."
She hadn't looked at me the whole time, her head buried pathetically in her knees. Standing up, I stalked out of the room. I did not want to put up with a gutless cry-baby, which was what I decided to classify Moon as.