Caged Demons

Faint remnants of dying dreams, distant memories, faded away as his eyes flickered open. Hearing nothing but unending groans and moans, he instinctively reached for a rifle that was there. Hand slipping through air, body falling from uneven bed.

Matt lay on the ground where he’d fallen, invoking a chorus of laughter from the men around. Having awoken to the situation, and realizing that there were no direct threats, in this group of outcasts; he pushed himself off the dirt floor.

Arcide walked over to him, having been standing nearby, changing into a fresh set of clothes. “That’s one way to start the morning.” He gave a small laugh, “A little too boisterous for me though.” He yawned loudly as if to punctuate his point.

“You should quickly clean yourself before work starts, might help wake you up. Best do it quickly though, it sounds like Lukur is up and about.” He guided Matt outside, while the others continued on in their own grumbling and mumbling morning rituals.

Outside the sun was hidden by the forest of trees, yet it’s light still peaked through the thickened canopy, giving small life to the morning. Krikers energetically flittered above, leaping from branch to branch, fighting and playing as they unsettled leaves that rained down to the forest floor below.

“Over there, by the river there’s a bucket for cleaning yourself with. Go on and wash, before breakfast is ready.” He walked away, to where a small fire was heating a massive metal bowl.

Hesitantly, Matt stepped closer to the river, his anxieties rising with each passing step. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he over powered the fear that had locked his joints in place and reached the rivers edge.

The bucket made of metal, had been dented so often that it barely resembled a bucket at all. He wondered if it might even be older than he himself.

Leaning by the river side, her splashed water into his own face, and stared at the disturbed reflection he could see beyond the waters current. He felt tired, but not the sort which would fade with another nights rest.

A headache was crawling around the back of his head as if some malicious insect had crawled inside while he slept. His bones and muscles ached from the countless injuries yet to fully heal, still miscolouring his skin in places.

Closing his eyes, he focused his mind. Reminded himself of what he’d been forgetting.

Save them.

He was here… he was here to find mages. Which might help the Knights of Sasahara to locate his people for him. After that he would have to follow the clues.

He let out a sigh, realizing for not the first time, how convoluted things had become. At times he still found himself wanting to storm the castle and interrogate whoever he came across.

Letting out a deep breath, he let the frustrations wash away.

Someone was approaching, but he paid them no mind, continuing to splash water onto himself from the river. From the corner of his eye he saw the bucket moving.

Water rushed over him. His ears filled with the waters roar, mouth instinctively sucking in a mixture of water and air. He flailed wildly for a moment, the sound stuck in his mind. The feeling of water in his throat bringing back his memories in that one quick rush.

“There you go. Clean.” Arcide smiled at him but Matt was too shaken to reply.

Shaking his head repeatedly, he spat out some of the water trying to catch his breath. It was a moment before he could replace the smile on his lips, a lie though it was.

“Thanks.” He replied, “Is breakfast almost ready?”

“Certainly is, come along while there’s still time to eat.” He dragged the dripping Matt away from the water, instead towards where the warm fire cooked their morning meal.

The men around them were far more talkative today than they had been yesterday. Their comradery found in the music of Arcides creation. Matt was perhaps the only exception.

One of the labourers was still stirring at the pot, his bulky hands, delicately working the stew, and serving up dishes without the least spillage. Arcide walked them into line, waiting for their own chance at food.

Matt blinked a few times, feeling around his mind for Lilith. The pressure that indicated her presence was still close enough to be felt, yet too distant for him to reach her. For now, he worked alone.

Arcide was working elsewhere and only he had the opportunity to look into the work of the warlocks here. He didn’t know how to start, and wished quietly that things were simpler as he received his own dish of food.

He held tightly to the warm bowl and sat close to the fire, fighting against the morning chill that cut through his wet clothes. Hesitation filled him for but a moment before he dipped his spoon into the dish.

The flavours exploded in his mouth, savoury, yet a hint of sweetness. More flavoursome than anything he’d eaten in his own world, he was still a long way from getting used to the flavours and sensations this world had to offer.

Meat and vegetables, completely unfamiliar floated in the thickened soup, and quickly filled his growling gut, with a satisfying completeness.

“I’ll never get used to eating stew for breakfast.” Arcide mumbled as he ate another spoonful.

“Haha, get used to it young man,” these words coming from the bulky man stirring what remained of the stew. “This is the best kind of breakfast you could hope for, world round. Nothing else’ll keep you moving all day long!” A chorus of cheers rose up to the man’s words.

Arcide didn’t reply, simply swallowing down another spoonful of the warm stew. Matt continued watching the man for a moment, but let his questions fade as he focused on finishing his meal.

Lukur walked past them, his watchful eyes scanning the crowd of labourers thoughtfully. The group ignored him, chatting in their own small conversations, finishing their meals and relaxing for the few moments of freedom they had.

Lukur, walked into their group, “Get moving, work is starting soon, and if you waste any of that food I’ll have your hide. Wasting food is as bad as wasting time, right now.

His words inspired motion, and in little time, the remains of breakfast had found home in their gullets. Having finished, they threw their empty bowls into a pile for cleaning. The man who had prepared the meal was already talking an armful over to the river, humming soft tunes familiar to those played last night.

The rest of the men split into groups, those who rushed over to the river, diving into the water for a quick clean, and those who ran inside to change into fresh clothes.

Matt stood up, checking over his own clothes which were still damp from earlier. The knife he’d brought with him still tucked away deep inside. He hadn’t the spare clothes to bring, but that didn’t bother him greatly, a little dampness wouldn’t cause him any trouble so long as the weather didn’t suddenly turn too cold.

“Matt, Arcide,” Lukur called, beckoning them over towards him.

Momentarily, his joints froze again, as he considered how dangerous this might turn. Forcing himself into action, he followed Arcide over to where their leader was waiting.

“Are you two tired?” He asked, inspiring a panic. Upon their silence he continued, “You two were tasked with working directly with the engineers here. Have they caused you any issues so far?”

“No,” Arcide replied quickly, “By truth, I was only running back and forth for clay, and tools which they demanded were around somewhere. I didn’t really interact with them much.”

“Hmmm, so long as you are fine with such work.” He turned instead to Matt, “You were working with Dvell much more closely as I recall. Was he any trouble?”

“Not at all,” Matt replied, sweat forming in the palms of his hands. “In fact, it was mostly cleaning and moving weights.

“Very well, if there are any problems, feel free to come to me. You may be playing the part of assistants but ultimately you are under my command. As such, I take some responsibility for what you do.

“More simply, do not do anything that goes against morals.”

They both nodded and Lukur stepped away.

“It sounds like he knows something is going on here.” Arcide whispered, looking thoughtful.

“It sounds like he doesn’t like the engineers.” Matt pondered.

“Well, we already suspect that there are warlocks here.” He whispered too low for most to hear. “The only people here, are us workers, Lukur, and the ‘engineers’”

His implications clear, he strode over towards the river, eyes distant.

“Work starts, now!” Lukur called out to the group of men gathered. At the sound of his call, all those remaining rushed out to him.

“Like yesterday most of you will be taking direction immediately from me. Those of you who are tasked with assisting the engineers hurry about it. I’m sure that they’re already at work.” Without wasting a moments time, he began leading the larger group down along the river, where the clay was being quarried.

Matt, having taken position as Dvell’s assistant took quick pace towards the small hut where he’d been assisting Dvell the day before. Reinvigorated by breakfast and a good nights sleep, he was ready to take on the days work, spying and all.

Yesterdays work had been repetitive more than draining, and he was prepared to do more of the same. Though, today he was far more serious in understanding the methods to this construction, in hopes that he might discover some truth of the magic used here.

Matt opened the door to the hut, and was quickly assailed by the scents of clay and chemicals. Dvell was sitting in a nearby chair mixing chemicals together, his hair messed up in such a way that it couldn’t possibly be intentional, his clothes the same as yesterdays.

Dvell. For some reason Matt was reminded of the dream he’d had the night before. The children that Lilith had known as a child, one of them had the same name.

“Quickly, quickly, no wasting time now friend. We have work to do. Lives to save. Walls to build.” He smiled lightly before passing another filthy pot to Matt alongside the clear mixture he’d used to clean it.

In no time at all, he threw himself back into his work. Mixing together chemicals once again as Matt began cleaning out the pot. Fingers tracing along both the inside and the outside of the old dented vessel, he traced over where the gem had been removed.

“Say,” he said, “That gem, the red one. What does it do?” he asked, looking over to where Dvell was still struggling along.

“Oh, that. Of course, you’d be curious.” He mumbled, adding silver flakes to his mixture.

“It’s not that important if you can’t say.” Matt replied, suddenly concerned.

“Well, I did promise you we’d continue yesterday’s conversation.” His tone was serious yet again. “How about this, I will show you what it is, but only after we finish getting this mixture right.”

Matt nodded to him, “How close are we getting?”

“Truth, if I’m right, we’ll be finished before lunch.” He smiled confidently.

“You mean you found a way to remove the silver?” Matt asked, recalling what he’d said the day before.

“Not entirely, but to the point where the amount of silver used is negligible.” His words came as something of a surprise to Matt who’d been hoping to spend more time understanding the processes of what the man was doing. Though he would sooner learn about the red gem, he still felt unsatisfied.

“Today we’re confirming the mixture with different samples of imperfect clay, to determine its functionality in working conditions. From experiments thus far, it seems rather reliable.” He murmured as he put together another vial of the mixture.

“Okay, so we’re doing the same as yesterday then?” Matt asked.

“The very same, but this time,” He replied, lifting a different pot from the pile, “Without the gem.”

The spent the following hours with the same testing they’d done the previous day, but today all of the test results yielded consistent results of above 70kg of weight bearing capacity.

As the last experiment yielded a weight bearing capacity of almost 120kg, for a repaired sliver of clay at that, they sat down for a short break before lunch.

“That was better than expected,” Dvell smiled, “Thanks to your help, it was completed at least one day sooner.”

“One day, is that really important?” Matt asked, thinking back on the little work he’d done to assist.

“I was in the city of Saruthor the day that the walls fell.” He laughed dryly, “I thought that that city could never get worse than it already was. I thought that I could use this disaster to bring about change, to fix it.”

Matt, sitting opposite him, saw clearly as he gazed into the invisible past.

“People were always dying in the streets. Always getting plucked off the streets by bored guards like some sick game as they’re sent to the queen for ‘justice’.” He laughed derisively “It’s always been hell to me, so when the new King took over I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse.”

“You know, it actually got better. Everyone you hear talking about it will say how awful of a king he is, how his mother was so much better. But unlike her, he understands what justice means. He’s trying to help, but most of the people of the streets refuse to accept it.

“He had a public bath house installed, have you seen it?”

Matt nodded, “It was impressive.”

“And free for anyone to enter and use. When you saw it, how many people were there?”

“Just me, and a frei-” he paused a moment realizing what he’d just said, “Just me and a friend.” He smiled realizing that it was no lie.

“Exactly. Even the beggars in the street refuse to go there, refuse to accept his kindness, his help. It’s like they’re all twisted up with hate for no reason at all. How can you help someone who refuses to accept you, no matter how much you give them.”

He sighed deeply, “Moving on, in short I would say that the King gave me hope. He’s not perfect but he’s trying to do good. Then the walls fell.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Were you there?”

Matt nodded quietly, recalling the countless corpses that had lined the streets, and were soon lined up, ready for burning. He recalled more poignantly the corpses that hadn’t burnt.

“At the time, I was helping a group of orphans that I look after. I didn’t want them living off of the streets like I did, so I built them a massive house and brought them in off the streets.

“I made sure that they had food to eat, and a bed to sleep in.” He smiled a sad, lonely smile, “They accepted me, unlike the King. I remember every face, every name, of every person I saved… of everyone I tried to save.”

For a moment he curled up, the tears reaching breaking point, “I was coming back from the markets, and… when I heard the explosions I ran. I ran as fast as I could.

“I was too late. The roof caved in, you see, like ‘most everyone.” His ragged breathing lost pace as he continued his story, “I thought… I thought I could hear them inside. So, I tore the rubble free, but… it was too late.

“I should’ve been there, I could have saved them. It took until dawn the next day when I finally found them all. The few of them still alive, so badly hurt that… oh Seri. I know forgiveness is too much, but take care of those kids.

“I gave them the grace of fire and left. There’s nothing left in that town but hatred and disease. But, I can’t give up on it, on the people here. I have to save them.”

Silence overwhelmed them, and as Dvell silently stared into the unseen horizon, Matt stood not a little unaffected and headed outside. “I’m getting us some food.” There was no reply to his words.

Outside the sun was well overhead, though the canopy above offered some shade, this was something of a clearing and the light still cut though. The same man who’d served him breakfast was now cooking, what seemed to be the same meal as they’d eaten earlier. Though at the moment he was distracted by Lukur who was standing by his side.

As he approached he heard snippets of their conversation.

“Just keep an eye on them during meals. I don’t need more people mixed up in this mess, they’re all good people.” Lukur spoke with serious tone.

“Yes boss, yes. I will keep watch, I’ll tell you if any of them seem strange. But I’ll tell you, I don’t like this job.” The man replied.

“It’s better that you don’t. Just take care of them, we’ve already got a war brewing. We don’t need warlocks causing us any more problems.”

“Why don’t you just send message to the Sasahara?”

“I already have.” Lukur replied, turning and walking away while rubbing at his forehead. He gave Matt a passing glance but no more than that.

“Could I get two bowls of that, if it’s ready?” Matt asked the man.

“Yes, yes, I’m keeping it warm.” He expertly served up two bowls of the thick, juicy stew, “If he has any problem with the food. Tell him to speak to me.” The man beat his chest with his fist lightly.

Matt nodded to him before walking back to the hut where Dvell was sitting outside. He seemed at more at ease as he was sitting in the dirt, than he had been earlier.

Silently Matt handed him one of the bowls, and a wooden spoon. His face lit up at the sight of the meal.

“Small blessings, always appreciate them. You’ll never know which meal will be the last.” He smiled as he ate, savouring the flavour.

Dvell talked as he ate, his voice more lively than it had been inside, as if he forgot the conversation all together. “We’ve completed the first step, next comes the harder parts. Though we can revel in our victory for now.” He laughed lightly as he stared at the sky through countless branches and leaves.

“So, Matt you haven’t told me much about yourself yet. That’s okay, it’s only natural to wait until you trust me.” He stated turning to him, “Obviously if you’re working here you haven’t had the best opportunities life has to offer. I was much the same as a kid.” He reminisced, “I was a part of a small gang of kids surviving in the city, we used to run through the streets stealing and pilfering as we liked or needed, depending on the day.”

He seemed to smile at the thought, almost as if he missed those days. “We were doomed to die at the hands of the law, you understand that don’t you?” He asked, “You probably weren’t much different. Eventually those days come to an end and you have to make a choice. Do you get power and live, or do you follow societies rules and die?”

As he looked to sky, Matt finished his own meal, fighting back memories of his own, where their stories connected. Dying by societies rules. Taking chances, making decisions that he’d forever regret.

Matt whispered quietly, “You have to keep on trying.”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I guess you have to do something to make those sacrifices worth it, do something to undo a little of the damage that got you where you are. Do enough good to earn our deaths and return back to the cycle.”

Letting out a deep sigh he dropped the topic, “Gather together the other ‘engineers’,” He said the word engineer with no shortage of sarcasm. “We need to inform them of our success, that way we can focus on stage two of production. You should find Tharil and Oiral in the next hut over, they are a little grumpy almost all of the time so watch out for that.”

Matt nodded obediently, thinking about all that he’d heard. From what he’d said, Matt couldn’t consider Dvell an evil man, even if he turned out to be a warlock it sounded like he wanted to save people. To do good things.

Dropping the bowls by the cook, he offered the man small thanks before walking over to the hut beside Dvell’s. The building was at least twice the size of the one he’d worked in, and seemed to be constructed much more neatly compared to the patchwork walls he had grown used to.

Reaching out to the clay door Matt hesitated in opening it, remembering how it was when he first entered one of the huts here. Slowly and sensibly, he pushed the door open, holding on tightly should it fall from its hinges.

Fortunately, this time he was safe, the door moved on smooth hinges and didn’t even bounce or clunk as Dvell’s was prone to do.

Looking into the little hut Matt clearly saw countless tools and instruments of various kinds, many similar to what he’d worked around this morning. For all this clutter, the owners made no immediate appearance, so preparing for trouble he called out in firm voice.

“Tharil, Oiral.” His pronunciation messy enough that even he could hear it.

“Knock next time!” An elderly man yelled at him from across the room where he’d been hidden behind a pile of pots. In his hand was a vile of the same sort that Dvell had been using, inside a clear liquid sparkled with flaked silver.

“So much for peaceful working conditions.” A young woman grumbled from behind thick glasses, standing up from where she’d been lying on the floor.

Matt hesitated at the sight of them, he’d had no idea what to expect from these people yet he found himself quite surprised. Old men were rare, where he’d come from.

The strangest part though was how similar the two of them were, the same accent to their voices. The same stride as they walked towards him. The same glare as he silently observed them. They both adjusted their glasses with the one finger of their left hand and resumed glaring at him.

“I… Ah, Dvell wanted you two to head over to him. He’s finished stage one.”

“Damn it!” They cried out in unison.

The older man turning to the woman, spoke at her, “I’ll bet he had the recipe all along.”

“No, I saw him fail at it two dozen times on the first day, he must’ve cheated us some other way.”

Together they turned to Matt, “What did he do?” The older man asked.

“What sort of scheme was he pulling?” The woman turned on him at the same time.

“Come to the meeting and find out.” Matt told them as he retreated from the room. Clicking their tongues they quickly returned to their tables cleaning up the experiments that were still ongoing.

“We’ll head over in a moment, lad. Just clearing away the mess. That’s all this is now.” He clicked his tongue again as he poured his experiments into a single pot.

Walking quickly, Matt walked the short distance to the more familiar of these clay hovels. Patches of grass grew here and there but most of the land consisted of dirt, which his still soggy boots turned to mud.

Opening the clay door as it bumped and jolted against its hinges, Matt noticed Dvell sitting inside looking quite distant. His eyes glowed red while he stared into the depths of a glowing red gem in his hand.

At least as large as his palm the gem was held up in a gloved hand such that he did not touch it directly.

Its light shone brilliantly, not so bright as a torch but clear enough to make out the sharp geometric patterns that it drew upon every wall and surface inside the room. The shifting patterns reminded Matt all to clearly of the stama that adorned the skin of the Sasahara Knights, the ebbing and flowing of the sharp lines that it formed, the living power that it exuded.

“What’s that?” Matt asked, having seen this particular stone for the first time. It was much like the red stone he’d seen earlier, in the same way that a glass of water was similar to a lake. The aura that painted the walls of the room seemed to defy description as he stared in wonder.

“This?” Dvell asked staring into the gem, “This is power,” his words tapered off as he stared into its depths, “This is sacrifice.”

The door opened behind Matt, and he turned to face Tharil and Oiral as they rushed into the room indignantly. The girl was first to speak, “We heard that you beat us. Do you have it ready?”

Dvell who’d hidden the gem in the time Matt had taken to turn around, returned their glares. “Well, Oiral, we’ll get to that, certainly.” He seemed to be chewing on something as he talked, aggravating the other two, “But first there was this other matter that I was interested in mentioning to you two.”

The man stood up with such grandeur that it gave everyone pause, “let me introduce you to my new apprentice.” He waved at Matt as if it were the most sensible thing in the world.

“Apprentice?” Matt asked, turning to him but the man did not reply.

“So that’s how you cheated!” The young woman, supposedly Oiral, declared staring at Matt with a sharp eye. “You said you’d get this done in a week, you never said you were going to get help to do it!” The woman accused loudly.

“Well, it was something of a surprise myself. I didn’t expect to find someone with potential here, especially not among the labourers that they sent us.” He patted Matt’s shoulder.

“Your apprentice sure has proven himself useful to have done so much work in your stead already.” The elderly man said pointedly.

“Well Tharil, an apprentice is only as good as his master.” He didn’t even try to deny the obvious implications being made.

The man could only grumble in reply as they pushed on their conversation, “The materials are done and tested, we should be able to produce the estimated ten tonne for the first stage of construction, and will have acquired the materials for stage 2 construction before the first stage is ended.

“I expect you two have finished your part of this contract?” Dvell asked them.

“Certainly, we were basically finished from the start, just had to polish off a few inconsistencies.” The woman, Oiral, spoke; pushing her thick glasses up her nose.

“Very good then, I’ll inform Lukur by days end, for now, we prepare for mass production.” He ordered, to which the two snorted at him.

“Just because you have an apprentice now your acting like our boss? Sounds like you just jammed your head up somewhere.” The woman spoke in phrases that made little sense to Matt.

“Let’s just see how apt this kid is to learn shall we. Don’t want him spilling all of your secrets, do you boy?” Tharil asked talking to Dvell.

“What do you propose?” Dvell asked in reply, glaring the man down.

“How about a little enchantment. Have this boy see what he can do with a demon already caged, shall we.” Oiral offered, pulling a small pen out from her coat.

Matt examined the offered pen, noticing that at the dull end, was positioned a red coloured gem. It’s glow faint, but as he looked carefully into it, similar patterns formed as he’d seen earlier. Somehow vaguely different, in what way, he wasn’t sure.

Dvell waved for Matt to take the pen, and without complaint he did so.

Caged demon. The term that they used. To describe this gemstone in such a way implied so many things, and added a million more questions to his list. More than that, looking at it, he realized that this was the proof that he was looking for.

This was what Lilith was after.

He reached out with his mind, only to find that Lilith was only the faintest impression on his mind. Upon feeling such weak connection, he focused instead on the people around him.

On the warlocks.

“So, this is magic?” He asked them, staring at the pen in his hand with more than a little hesitance.

“Hahaha, Is it magic? Boy, do you not know anything? Magic is something done, it isn’t a pen or a wall! Magic isn’t a thing, but an action, an incantation, an enchantment. You cannot hold magic in your hand, any more than you could lift a concept or action!” Tharil seemed to be laughing joyously as he looked down on Matt.

The gem at the end of the pen called to him. Hesitantly Matt looked into it, curious. Lilith and the Knights would consider this questionable at best, but Matt couldn’t help remembering the words of the demon within Lilith.

“We need everyone in order to fight against your people.”

If he were to just side with the Knights after this short of a time, if he were to close his mind and reject these ideas without even hearing them. What would become of him.

Mind slave the words spoken in his mind not so long ago.

He clutched the pen in his hand, touching the small gem installed on the tip. Inside it, he could feel a power stirring, responding to his contact, glowing gently.

Around him the two ‘engineers’ or warlocks as they were, sneered at him expecting his failure. Dvell looked at him with curiosity, and a hint of confidence.

For a moment Matt felt the power reaching out to him.

Anger; raging, burning, anger.

It seared his mind, his bones and his heart, yet… it was transient. Matt instinctively pushed aside the emotions. Compared to the Keht, or even the emotions leaking through Lilith’s tether on a frequent basis, this was no challenge at all.

He explored deeper, whether it was his own mind or the maze inside the gem, he wasn’t sure. The raging emotions that flowed, followed the shapes of the geometric patterns sharp, shifting, growing. Flowing with direction, with purpose.

Curiously, Matt followed the tide of anger. Tracing upstream this twisted emotion, as the feelings grew stronger and stronger. He sought the source of this emotion, the source of this power that rushed through him, and as the shapes grew tighter in form, the ending came into sight.

If where he’d been, could be described as a river, then this was a lake. Deep and wide, it stretched out for eternity, it’s power overflowing and forming the rivers that connected him to it. Every essence of what flowed here was anger, red flowing anger.

As if unsettled by his appearance, the lake trembled. Thundering with will of its own.

Paint the world black.

This message understood more as intent than definition, was repeated over and over by that will that controlled this lake.

The caged demon.

Matt considered these words as he felt the creature within, thrashing, raging, fighting endlessly against constraint. This creature was very much like the demon’s he’d known thus far in essence, yet, it was weaker, it was simpler. It was less in so many countless ways.

The only idea, the only phrase that it knew.

Paint the world black.

The command written in the soul of the caged demon. The harsh words guiding the anger of the creature locked within.

It left a bitter taste Matt’s mouth.

The words were not its own.

Searching his mind, he tried to think of an idea that might replace these shackles. Focusing on the idea more than the words, he remembered a conversation he’d had not so long ago.

Reveal the stars of the night sky.

These words spurned on by thoughts of the night sky beyond Seri. A sky of boundless lights and beauty.

The anger in the gem seemed to erase his idea as he forged it, twisting it, turning it, making it something else.

StArs sKy niGHt BurN

The idea now so far changed by the anger filling this soul, that it no longer resembled anything at all.

Matt paused. The anger continually washing over him, wearing at him.

Anger. Matt thought, could not understand idea’s that were born from different emotions.

The anger washed over him in unending torrents trying to wash him away, trying to consume him.

This time, he let it. He let the anger fill his breast. The hatred, the desire to destroy, to wreck and ruin everything. Fuelled by this anger, he expressed a new idea. Different yet the same.

Hide seri’s bright light, reveal the stars dulled by her.

He felt a moments rejection as the idea flowed into the demon. The words, shifted as they had last time.

Silence Seri’s jealous light,

And let the weak shine as bright.

These words, though twisted, told the same meaning, imbibed with the same purpose. Matt, finally satisfied with the changes he’d made and looked upon the demon.

Silence Seri’s jealous light,

And let the weak shine as bright.

It raged on, hate filled and angry. Consumed with nothing more, than that one phrase, that one emotion.

He realized in that moment, all that he’d done was exchange it’s chains for another set. Pointless. Meaningless. Worthless.

Matt aased his mind away from the gemstone and the demon, who continued to rage within its small cage. Endlessly tearing at itself and anything else in reach.

Relaxing, he let the anger flow away, regaining control over himself.

Awakening to dulled light, Dvell, Tharil and Oiral, stood over him, where he’d fallen to the ground. They were speaking to each other, and ignoring Matt as he caught his breath.

“You really trust this kid that much?” Tharil asked Dvell, “You’ve known him less than a pair of days!”

“He’s got potential, and more than that we need more people like us! You weren’t there so you didn’t see the city fall, but it was overwhelming. I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I heard from some others, that some soldiers came not too long ago, apparently they were even more dangerous.”

Tharil stroked his chin, “Look, boy. I’ve lived a mighty lot longer than you, wars happen. It’s not something to be happy about, but they do. You can’t stop human nature, and acting rashly like this will only end in getting yourself killed.”

“I don’t care!” Dvell raged in return, “If I can save someone-“

“You can’t save anyone when you’re dead!” Tharil roared in return. The tense air filled the room before Tharil let out a sigh, “I don’t mean to be terse with you. I know what you did. What you’re trying to fix.”

“It can’t be fixed.” Dvell replied, “I just-”

“You’ll just burn yourself out trying to save anyone and everyone you can. Right?” Tharil asked.

“Yes, and that’s how I choose to live. Anyone with power has the responsibility to use it to save another!”

“Look,” Oiral cut in, pointing down at Matt. Instantly their argument faded away. Dvell stepped away for a moment rubbing at his eyes, Tharil smiled as he looked down at Matt.

“I expected him to go into a rage,” Tharil replied, “not many handle their first time so calmly.”

“I more or less expected something like this,” Oiral whispered under her breath, less than confident in her words.

“You need a hand up?” Tharil offered, still standing over Matt.

“Yeah, I’m a little dizzy.” Matt replied, holding his head so that the ground would stop shaking.

Dvell having finally calmed down, smiled gently, “I told you. He’s got potential.” His words instigating more conversation which Matt was not prepared for.

Their words blurred in his mind, and he lifted up the pen. The caged demon inside, looking somewhat different in it’s patterns yet again, reflecting the changes he’d made inside.

Walking dizzily out the door holding firmly to the frame for support, he looked up at the night sky. Though branches covered some, this clearing offered a decent view of the stars above, glowing brightly with Seri’s light.

Noticing he’d walked out, the warlocks followed after him, asking questions. Talking. Words that he couldn’t unravel this moment.

Lifting the pen up to the sky, he slowly angled it between himself and Seri. The sudden shift to darkness upset his eyes, for a few moments he was blinking back the afterimage of Seri stained into his eyes.

As he finally opened them again, looking up to the sky, he watched as thousands upon thousands of stars suddenly appeared. As if by magic, the sky filled with a million small lights, each shining brightly beside the other.

“Oh Seri… above.” The elderly Tharil’s voice trailed.

“Well that, I didn’t expect.” Oiral whispered, staring upwards.

Dvell simply stared at the sky with a smile on his face. “You’ll make a fine warlock.”

Matt just stared at the sky, wondering whether this would be yet another regret.