The Immortal Calamity

Donte cradled his mother’s body in his arms. Tears streamed freely down his face as he cried loudly.

I reached out my hand, wanting to comfort him, but hesitated. There was nothing I could say. No way to soften the pain rending his heart. All I knew to do was be there. I sat down beside him in silence. His sobs were the only sounds in the blood-soaked streets.

Nox returned to his kitten form and curled up in my lap. Hours passed; Donte’s sobs turned to a sullen silence. The sun began to set. His grip tightened on the limp body. The white showed on his knuckles as he screamed at the sky.

A bright blue light lit the alley. The source was not his mother this time, but Donte himself. In his grief, he had awakened an innate talent of his own. His eyes began to glow with a blue light as power rampaged around him. The power took form. My flames gathered to protect me as a powerful wind swept through the alley. A cyclone tore apart the nearby buildings, leaving only rubble in every direction.

The wind died down as the power in his body stabilized. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes.

“Why did this happen?” Donte whispered, “She was always so kind to everyone. Even when we barely had enough for ourselves, she was always the first to lend a hand to those in need. Why did she have to die?”

“In the Endless War, it is always the weak that suffer the most,” I replied, “People like your mother are always the first targets of those who want to sow discord and death. Without kind people like her… there is no hope.”

“The Endless War… What does my mum have to do with some fairy tale the church spouts?”

“It is no fairy tale. The drug your mother took was created to fight in the Endless War. It was a scheme created by the demon Envy. Your mother is a victim of his ambition.”

“Envy… he is responsible…” Donte closed his eyes, remembering the name. The fury was thick in his voice. “What would you do if someone killed your mum?”

“I am not a good person to ask that.”

“Tell me.”

“I would slaughter every single person responsible,” I replied with a sigh, “I would get my revenge, no matter the cost.”

Donte grew quiet as he looked down at his mother’s corpse. Time ticked by in silence again.

“Help me move her,” He whispered, “She deserves a proper burial.”

I nodded. We covered the body with a blanket, and lifted her body into a nearby cart we borrowed from one of the destroyed buildings.

We pushed the cart out the destroyed alley and back towards the street. The dozens of dismembered bodies still littered the ground. Out of fear or simply neglect, nobody had come to collect the remains. The stench of rot had begun to fill the air after they sat for hours in the sun.

We wheeled the cart past the bodies. I saw the man I ducked behind in my dash towards the alley. His head rolled loosely on the ground. Eyes still wide in shock and fear.

 'We could have done more. We are immortal. Why did he have to trade his life for ours?'

I clenched my hand, nails biting into my skin. I had to live. If I died now, Envy would be unchallenged when he invaded. More than just a few people would die. If I had only been at my full strength, none of these people would have had to die. I need my Chronicle. I should never have agreed to come to the free cities. I should have just stormed King Sebastion’s castle and taken what is mine.

 'And died even faster.'

Donte and I carted the body down the street. Both of us walked in silence, unwilling to talk about our problems.

We were eventually stopped by a group of guards blockading the street. They wore a mix of heavy armor and leather, standing shoulder to shoulder with weapons drawn. Even through the armor, I could see the tension. These men were scared. They had probably never faced a Demonkin before but heard plenty of stories of their viciousness.

“Children?” exclaimed one of the guards in surprise, “There are more survivors? What did you see in there? Where is the Demonkin?”

“The Demonkin is dead,” I replied flatly.

“Dead? How did it die?”

“She is not an it. She was a human just like you,” Donte mumbled angrily. Luckily, the guard did not hear the seething whispers.

“Tell me everything that happened,” said the guard, blocking our path out,

“I will stay behind if you want someone to talk to. Let the boy go bury his mother,” I said, standing in front of the cart with my hands on my hips.

The guard hesitated for a moment. He looked down at the human figure in the cart. We were fortunate we had the foresight to cover the body before carting it down the street. Under the blanket, the black scales and claws were not visible, only the vaguely human outline of a woman.

“Donte…” the guard said, finally looking at him properly, “Is that… Hestia?”

Donte nodded silently.

“I am sorry for your loss. She was a good woman,” Said the guard, “She patched many of us guards up during her time working for us. It will be hard not having her around.”

Donte stared at the ground, unresponsive as the guard waved him through the blockade. The wheels of the cart creaked down the street as Donte faded into the distance. I, unfortunately, had to stay with the guards and give my report. I was suddenly reminded of my current appearance, disguised as a street urchin. hopefully, these guards were not the type to treat street kids poorly.

 

 

---

 

 

I was led down the road outside of the blockade by three armored men. They brought me to the first stone building I had seen since coming to the slums. While most other buildings in the area were simple and made clay brick, this building was completely different. Cut stone and iron bars; the building towered like a small castle built in the middle of a swamp.

I was led past a heavy iron reinforced gate. Inside, two armored guards argued. They both had painted symbols on their armor designating rank higher than the average soldier.

One of the guards that had a blue painted circle on his armor was yelling at the other who had a golden circle on his.

“What do you mean the city won’t reinforce us? This is a Demonkin we are talking about. Most of my men are recruited out of the slums. They have never seen real combat before. A Demonkin will slaughter them by the dozen.”

“I am not risking my men to save a bunch of thieves and whores,” replied the gold-painted soldier.

The blue-painted soldier slammed his fist on the nearby desk. “They are citizens of the Free Cities no different from anyone else! You have no right to abandon them.”

“You should watch your tone captain, or after this debacle is over you might just find yourself out of a job,” replied the gold-painted soldier with a chuckle, “Besides, this could be a good opportunity. As you said, your men need combat experience. Nothing is better than a trial by fire, and if a few parasites to our society die in the process… well that sounds like a win to me”

“Dead citizens are not a win! Is our duty to protect the people, not profit from their misfortune.”

“You can protect the people if you want captain, but you will have to do it without my men’s help. I wish you the best of luck.”

Both turned to look at me as we entered. The gold-painted soldier spoke first. “If it’s another pickpocket, throw them in the holding cell. We will process them tomorrow.”

“Actually commander, this girl came out of the quarantine zone. She says the Demonkin is dead,” replied one of the soldiers escorting me.

“Dead? How did it die?”

“A dashing man with light brown eyes killed it,” I lied. After all, nobody would believe a bloodthirsty monster would kill itself, and it would not be a good thing to detail my own involvement. “He used two swords that shot ice spikes everywhere.”

 'You are really bad at lying. Are you just describing Dad? Will that not cause problems?'

“He looked like he was dressed in noble clothing. He definitely did not belong in lower Aktaio.”

“Not from lower… Aktaio?” mumbled the blue-painted guard.

“Well captain, it looks like your issue resolved itself. Call me if you have a real problem.” Said the gold-painted soldier with a dismissive wave. A small contingent of guards followed him out of the building.

The blue-painted soldier shook his head, mumbling profanities under his breath. He led me to a private office, dismissing the other guards. Removing his helmet to reveal a weathered face and sandy hair. His eyes glowed with a dull grey light. The captain collapsed into a chair behind the desk with a sigh. The wood creaked in protest under the heavy weight of his armor.

“My name is Kadmos, I have been captain of the guard here for over twenty years. I was born and raised in the lower city which is why I know that you were not. Next time you disguise yourself as a street urchin, people here call it lower Aktey, not Aktaio,” said the guard as he stared down at me with hard eyes. “Now, unless you are interested in spending a few days in the dungeon you will tell me what really happened and why you are here. Do not try to lie. You are terrible at it.”

I felt a shiver as he looked at me, his eyes reminded me of Otto’s. Not because they looked alike, but in the way it felt when I stood in front of him. It felt like nothing could be hidden from this type of person.

It would be easier to gather information if I had a man like this on my side. He likely knows more about the lower city than most. The only question would be whether or not he was willing to work with me.

“How much do you know about where the Demonkin came from?” I asked.

“I know it came out of Hestia’s house during a riot. Is there something more?”

“That Demonkin was… Hestia.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed. “I believe I said no lies.”

“That is what happens when someone takes the new drug that gives people an innate talent. Over time, the body begins to mutate. It drives them crazy. Turns them into a monster. Hestia attacked her own son, and in a brief moment of humanity, took her own life.”

The captain laughed. “I take it back; you are a great liar. I cannot believe you could actually say that with a straight face. You really expect me to believe a human can turn into a Demonkin, or that a Demonkin is capable of taking its own life?”

“It is the truth. Everyone will know soon enough. This spark powder has spread across the city like a wildfire. This is just the first of many.”

The captain grew silent. His squinted eyes glowed with grey light. I squirmed uncomfortably, knowing his talent had something to do with his eyes. A type of observation ability, though I had not figured out what type yet.

“I really hate the crazy ones,” The captain said, rubbing his eyes. The grey light faded. “You really believe you are telling the truth at the very least. If by some chance what you say is true, we will find out soon enough. Until then, you will be spending some time in the dungeon. I can’t have some crazy kid sprouting stories about people turning into Demonkin during an epidemic.”

“I have not broken any laws. You cannot keep me here!” I protested.

“I can and I will. Do not struggle. You will only make this harder on yourself,” Said the captain, calling in a pair of soldiers.

The soldiers grabbed me roughly, without any care for my protests, and dragged me out of the office. I was taken down a winding staircase that led underground.

The putrid smell of rot and filth assaulted me as a heavy door was opened. Rows of iron bars lined both sides of the room. There were no windows, and the only light was a single lantern swinging from the ceiling.

I was roughly tossed into a cell alongside one other prisoner without a word from the soldiers. Through the bars on either side, I could see dozens of others grouped together. No guards stayed in the basement to watch the prisoners. I was on my own.

“Look at this, we got a little girly this time,” said a thin, bald man as he approached the bars that separated our cells. He was missing his teeth and covered in sores. He was more of a moving corpse than a man.

“Come near me and I will burn you to ashes,” I said in my best commanding voice. I did not bring any flames to life, but I let my eyes glow with a pale green light. Hopefully, they would get the message.

“Oh, the girly has a spark,” said another man. He looked similar to the first, covered in scars and open wounds.

Out of the dozen people I could see in the cells nearby, more than half of them had wounds of various sizes covering their body. The other half looked like newer additions to the cells, as their clothing was still resembling something a person would wear.

I shivered, looking towards my one cellmate. She was curled in a ball in the far corner of the cell. her eyes were devoid of light. Even the people I resurrected had more life in them than her.

One of the men approached the bars, reaching his hand through it. A wicked grin smeared across his face as he reached out to touch me, I grabbed hold of his hand. My flames ignited, spreading into his body.

The man screamed in agony, clawing at his own flesh as my flames rampaged inside him. He collapsed to the ground, twitching slightly. I did not kill him, but a bit of pain would be enough to dissuade him from approaching me again.

I looked up at the rest of the crowd on the other side of the bars, now staring at me with wide eyes. “Anyone else want to test my patience?” each of the remaining dozen turned away, not meeting my gaze.

Luckily these prisoners were easily cowed. I could only do that trick one more time at most with the amount of flames I had in my body. I sat down against the far wall of the prison and closed my eyes to recover the energy I had just used. The others stayed far away, glancing at me with fear from time to time.

With my mind, I reached out to Sylvie flying high above. This was the second time she was going to have to save me after I was captured. I could always have Nox go on a rampage and break me out, but that would always be a last resort. Even if I could control him perfectly, Nox going on a rampage would lead to countless problems. I did not want to make an enemy of Aktaio.

Through Sylvie’s eyes, I could see the entire city. She flew high in the air, gliding freely on the wind. Circling the entire city only took a few moments for her.

Without wasting any time, I took command of Sylvie and flew to the largest houses in the city. After checking a few windows, I found who I was looking for.

Otto sat at a desk, covered in papers. Stacks and stacks of paper scattered throughout the office. If any more was added, he would be swimming in all the clutter.

I had Sylvie tap on the window, drawing Otto’s attention. He looked up from his work with bloodshot eyes. He blinked a few times as he looked at the bird. Standing, he opened the window letting it in.

Sylvie flew over, landing on Otto’s desk. She started pecking his arm restlessly.

“It has been a long time since I have seen one of the empress’s puppets. Such an amazing talent, to break off a piece of your own soul and place it inside another body. It must be incredibly painful. You are lucky your talent also heals or creating even a single puppet would cripple you,” Mused Otto as he scratched under Sylvie’s chin.

Sylvie flapped her wings indignantly, smacking away Otto’s finger.

“Why are you here little puppet?”

Sylvie pranced around on Otto’s desk for a moment before I took direct control of her actions again. I dipped her beak in a nearby ink jar and began to write.

“No, don’t write on that! That is an important…” Otto paused as he saw what I was writing.

 Get me out of prison before I burn it to the ground.