Drak

The woods, however odd it seemed, was a favorite spot amongst demons, despite about one third of the population being associated with fire. This had never been a problem however, since learning control of ability was one of the few rules we had, and it was enforced with an iron fist. If you made any mistakes outside of training, and/or if any damage was done, you were killed.

I learned that rule very early in my life. I was looked down upon in my village. I had burned down a small section of the forest during a training session, and they would have killed me. My father did not think it was fitting to kill someone as young as me. He stepped in my place. As a respected fighter, no one wanted to do it.

The leader of our village was very keen on tradition, and would have none of it however, and my father was executed. Everyone blamed me.

I blamed myself more than anyone.

Our village was over a hundred years old, and almost every building that was around then still stands. The way they were teaching control was working, so I dealt with it begrudgingly, just as they dealt with me.

My older brother however, in great contrast to me, was honored by the whole island as a great fighter. He was like a god to them, and to me. He had protected me from day one.

And now, in the woods, he was doing it again.

A gang of demons his age were trying to kill me again, and yet again, I failed to be able to fight back. Xephyr would have to save me yet again. And he did so fairly easily, after giving them a warning of course.

The whole gang being earth demons, had a massive advantage over Xephyr, but he just stood there with his typical confidence. When they attacked he countered perfectly, when they blocked, he hit them where they weren't blocking. I had been rejected from all the combat schools on the island, and they looked like they were going so fast to me.

When it was done, they ran off, and my brother simply hugged me and told me to be more careful.

"I'm sorry I can't fight Xephyr." I mumbled.

"It's not your fault. You can't help it."

In the middle of the embrace, we both heard a click, and saw a flash.

"Too quiet for lightning." I observed.

"And it's not raining." Xephyr agreed.

We looked towards the source of the noise to see what looked like just another demon.

"Hello, what are you doing here?" Xephyr asked.

It just yelped and ran away, proving it wasn't a demon. Demons would not be afraid of other demons without prior threats.

"Odd." I said.

"Indeed. C'mon, Drak. Let's go home before we get ambushed again."

I sighed and followed.

We got to the hut and walked to mother cooking dinner.

"I hope you boys had a good time?" She questioned.

"We got ambushed again." Xephyr sighed.

I heard her sigh in return. We hadn't been out without being attacked for years.

"Hey, mother? We saw something weird in the woods today."

"Was it another mushroom? I told you, those aren't weird. They just make you see weird things." She laughed.

"No, no. It looked like us, but it was afraid of us. It made this weird click noise, then this flash."

She stopped what she was doing instantly.

"I'll be back soon. Xephyr, watch the stew." She walked out very quickly.

"Well that was weird." I commented.

Xephyr just grunted in agreement as he stirred.

Mother walked in very quickly, only a couple minutes after she had left.

"You saw a human."

"A what?" Xephyr and I said in unison.

"We must leave the island. It took a picture of you, it'll show others for sure."

"Where will we go?" I asked.

"To the angel's island, for now at least."

The situation must have been desperate, because the angels had been our sworn enemies for centuries. We had all agreed to split the original island in two almost 700 years ago.

But we didn't argue. Mother was the village leader, one of few women who had been able to reach that rank.

I was legitimately afraid. I had heard nothing but bad things about the angels. Now we had to go live on their island because we had been discovered.

We took only vital things that we could carry. We had no time to linger on the island. Our village and all the others, led by the village leaders, walked to the cliff facing the ocean, and we all leapt off and took flight one by one. Although I could not fight, I could fly very well. My brother stayed by me to make sure I was okay, but he looked fairly angry about something. When I asked him about it he just grumbled, "Damn angels," and ignored me.

The flight was uneventful. We flew quickly and quietly, landing around sunrise. Everyone was exhausted. Too exhausted, thankfully, to try and kill me again.

We slept in the woods, the less adept flyers in their combat form, too tired to shift back.