SANGE

Chapter 1: A Fateful Night

A man lied next to an occupied bed, in a quiet room, which was spacious and airy. Candlelight, as well as a few enchanted lanterns in the rafters above the room, provided the only light. The room grew warm with tension as the man helped his wife through her dying moments, as she lay there in pain, just having given birth to the second of two female twins. The couple had decided, as she had went into labor, that they wouldn't send for a midwife or any sort of help; they were expecting only one, after all, and the man's medical expertise would be enough to get the child out safely into open arms.

"It's a hours walk." they had said, "No one would walk so far out here to do what we can do ourselves anyway"

However, they hadn't been expecting twins - and twin girls at that. In a desperate attempt to save his second daughter, as the wife cried out in more pain, the man had delayed too long- not for the childrens wife, but for his wives, which had been strained already with the first child.

Sobs break the silence, not from the children, who had been lying quietly near their mother, whose last act had been to feed them, but from the husband and father, who has begun to break as his wife finally fades. Not because for the fact that he would need to care for two children, alone now, nor because of the fact he knew he would never love another again as much as he had loved his now dead wife. No, it was for a much worse reason. He wouldn't be raising two children, but one.

The children themselves, roughly the same size, perfectly healthy for newborns, and now fed, would be dying, no. It was for the fact that one of the two, either the one with blond tufts of hair on her head, and the fair skin of her father, or the one with black eyebrows and green eyes, with a tan shade of skin, just like her mother, would be dying anytime soon.

If only.

No, as the father lied there, he regretted what had been done to have these poor children conceived in the first place, for even now as he collected himself, with barely a whisper, he knew something … or someone had entered the room unannounced as his new children had slept on their mothers corpse.

Because out of whatever twisted sense of respect or humor he had, the demon who now awaited the man had waited until the children born and the wife had finally slipped away, her soul long gone, to appear. The man turned to inspect the demon, who had taken on a new form: A middle aged man, with a near bald head edged with black hair which almost appeared a teal purple color, with eyes which glowed with an odd blue light. He wore an odd black suit of some kind sewn from silk, and he had his arms held together in a rather respectful, yet businesslike way.

Though he appeared to be democratic, or even diplomatic, in appearance, the man knew he had no choice but to fall into the demands of the demon. Before, he and his wife had been unable to produce children for nearly a decade of trying into their young marriage; eventually, their frustration and searches led them to make a deal with this particular demon, for them to have a child, and a daughter at that.

The couple had made the deal with this particular demon for a reason; the wife, a powerful sorceress by many respects, knew that he specialized in such things as this, and often allowed many children based requests. He was more than glad to babysit some troublesome nephew to the king's brother for the next decade or so allowing said brother to the king could seize the throne.

So when the demon twisted the deal, saying he would allow her to be able to give birth to two normal children unmarred by his power, they had agreed. Even when he said that he would take the firstborn. The wife knew she was powerful enough to repel the demon, or even slay him should it come to that.

They shouldn't have trusted him. The guise this demon had taken that day was that of a gray serpent, with stones that clunked like stone, around a great tree bearing many fruit. He had even, as they agreed to his unspecific contract, watched just as he had when a single bud produced two fruits. It appeared the demon had outwitted them.

This is why, when without saying a word, the man took the one who resembled her mother so much, and simply gave him to the demon, who promptly vanished with not more than a self-satisfied grin, the father had a blank and valiant face, free from emotion. When the demon had vanished, never to meet the man again, the man turned back around, clutched the clothes on his wives body, and broke down into frantic sobs as the still sleeping child which resembled him more than her exotic mother.

Sorrow drowned the man, both for the fate of the daughter who he would never see again, and for his daughter who he knew he could no longer raise properly. Perhaps this is why he, out of not cruelness but frailty of mind, named his daughter Yasha, a word which represented supernatural spirits, or...demons in the mother's language.

Though neither he nor the demon knew it at the time, both of the twins were special, in a very unique way. Each had, on their waist, a almost indistinguishable moon shaped birthmark. Each would become a great swordsman, and each would eventually make a vow by the moonlight of a full moon, just like the one they were born during.

But then again, we have a story to tell for a reason, don't we? One of a warrior raised by demons in hell, who wielded a sword of great power. One who had a rather odd language barrier...

And thus, the story of Sange begins. I ,over on the dota 2 concepts subreddit, made a hero concept out of Sange, and have one made for Yasha. Thus, I felt the short back story I'd written was rather lacking , got too much free time on my hands, and wrote the first two chapters of this story out. I plan on writing and releasing a chapter every wendsay, and if I finish it all, once every Saturday as well. The story itself will be short, and not very sweet.