Shaitan شياطين translates to devil or demon in Islam: man-eating monsters that disguise themselves as humans, taking on various shapes and sizes, created by Drake’s blood or Aspasia’s, the original Shaitan.

West Berlin

1986

1:00 a.m.

Lyn sat in the shower, immersing herself in hot water and steam. She cradled her knees to her chest and hugged herself, long green hair wrapped around her shoulder. Drake’s face flashed in her mind; his sharp smile, deep blue eyes, and coiled ink hair. She moaned and lifted her head as rejuvenating water drowned her sorrow. Perspiration cloaked the glass shower, obscuring her view of the bathroom as if surrounding her by clouds.

“I have nothing left to teach you…” Drake said.

Her mind wandered to the past; a prolific moment in her abnormally long life. She stood with him at the training grounds in Hampshire, nothing more than a clearing in the forest. Amid the clearing rested an enormous boulder as thick as it was wide. He stared solemnly at the boulder, a stillness surrounding them as a fog lingered its way through the trees.

The fog reached her waist, but came up to Drake’s knees. She couldn’t see the ground, only milky streams of mist clawing away at her dress with its spectral fingers.

Drake glanced at the bow in her hand known as Styx. Its sister weapon, a scythe known as Acheron, which Drake carried. He pointed to the boulder. “Take your bow and destroy that boulder. Then, it will truly belong to you and you alone…”

He departed, Godfrey waiting at him by the rim of the forest. Godfrey bowed, waited for Drake to pass him, and followed, both disappearing into the mist.

She sighed, looking at the bow’s silver limb shining like a fresh pearl. Unlike other bows, Styx lacked a string, firing bolts of compressed energy instead of conventional arrows. Drake told her long ago, the bow had been forged from the molten lava that ran down the river Styx; housed inside it, a malevolent spirit.

Lyn could feel the demonic energy leaking from the bow. Her stomach sank, and a chill touched her heart. The bow glowed and shrunk, reverting to its original form: a necklace of black pearls.

She made a face, shook the pearls and called its name. Nothing happened. The mist grew thicker, enveloping the clearing.

The pearls rattled in her hand; color as black as soot, her face reflecting in them. Defeated, Lyn fell to her knees.

She pounded the ground. “Styx, Styx! Why won’t you transform — !”

“ — because it doesn’t respect you…”

Lyn stifled a gasp. Two marvelous beauties sat atop the boulder. One sporting dark red hair with honey-colored eyes; the other, long white hair like snow and enticing violet eyes. Fire and Ice. The red-headed woman wore a smirk, swinging her legs off the edge of the boulder petulantly.

“Who are you?” Lyn asked.

“I’m Anna,” the red-headed woman said.

Lyn recognized her as the voice in the mist, and her body stiffened.

Anna hopped off the boulder. “I told you… It doesn’t respect you. You’re too weak — ”

Lyn’s face turned dark. “How the hell do you know!”

Irene, the white-haired maiden chuckled. She wore a revealing red toga that exposed her back and shoulders, as did Anna. However, instead of red, Anna wore white. Strung across their necks were pearls — pearls so dark and irrefutable, Lyn knew them to be Styx.

Lyn pursed her lips, then opened them to speak. As if reading her mind, Anna approached, said: “I know what you’re thinking. How did we get those pearls? Well, if you can destroy that boulder, I’ll tell you…”

They glanced at the boulder, Irene missing. Frost formed on Lyn’s neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Irene wrapped her arms around her, head resting on Lyn’s shoulder.

“You’re pretty,” she quipped.

Anna ripped the pearls from her neck and called its name. The pearls pulsated and glowed, morphing into a silver bow identical to Lyn’s. A string formed and Anna pulled it back as a bolt of light manifested in her hand. She released it and the arrow soared in a flash of blinding light, obliterating the tree before them leaving nothing but a smoldering stump.

Steam hissed from the bow, now glowing molten red. Anna called its name, and it beckoned to her will, reverting to the pearl necklace. She scowled at Lyn. “Destroying a boulder should be child’s play, but you can’t even summon it. Pathetic…”

“You’re wrong!” Lyn retorted. “I’m stronger than that! I’ll show you why you’re wrong — !”

Lyn opened her eyes to see her fist delved into the wall. Broken tile and glass surrounded the shower drain with torrents of blood. She hugged herself again as the wounds in her hand healed. Then she turned off the shower and sobbed.