Wow, it's been a while since I've written anything. Well, this is my first attempt at a character x reader story and hopefully the plot isn't too confusing. And for now, I'm keeping Estarossa as Estarossa.
I don't own anything; Seven Deadly Sins belongs to Nakaba Suzuki.
Chapter 1
When I first heard about the return of the demon race, I laughed, and blew it off. A race that had vanished 3,000 years ago had suddenly managed to return from out of the blue? Yeah, right. Most likely some kids had been out past dark, playing in the forest, and had gotten scared. Sure, there were monsters, but not demons.
When I heard a rumor that the so-called "demons" were feeding on human souls, I shrugged, and disregarded the information. Where was the proof? These travelers come from afar, stopping in the tavern I work at with dozens of wild tales, each one more extravagant than the last. I'd served ale to Holy Knights and peasants, fathers and convicts. They all had their stories to tell. And while I silently nodded and agreed with all of them, I always kept a bit of skepticism is mind. It did no good for business to tell all my customers they were full of shit.
When Camelot fell, I was only slightly concerned. The city was so far south, I hardly ever had customers from that region.
Today the tavern was mostly empty, other than a group of men who were well into their fourth round, and ranting loudly about how trade with Camelot would be hindered. I wiped the dishwater off a silver kitchen knife, watching the metal glint back at me, and slipped the sharp object into my boot, making sure the handle was within reach, but not visible. Sure, black combat boots weren't exactly standard barmaid attire, but they certainly helped kick the drunks out of the bar once they'd had too much.
"Another round, miss!" One man called out. His arm raised in an attempt to flag me down; his friends sat beside him. Their eyes glassy from intoxication, fingers numb and deft as they continued their game of cards. I mean really, if there was an impending threat as great as the demon race baring down on human society, you would think these people might sober up a bit.
"Coming right up," I called out to them over my shoulder as I gathered four pints together, and set them on the table in front of them. The ale foaming over the top to run down the side of the glasses.
One of the men grabbed the handle of the nearest pint and took a swig. The foam sticking to his beard as he drank. "This really is the best ale in town, ya know?" He took another swig and set the glass down on the wooden table. Too hard, the liquid sloshed over the edge, coating the man's hand in the sticky beverage. "Who's your supplier? I hope they're not down south, or this place will be closed in a week." The man laughed and shook his head. Too drunk to show any real concern. I handed the man a dish towel to dry the beer from his hand. "Nothin' and no one is gettin' in or out of Camelot for a while. I heard the city fell in a night, imagine that? All those Holy Knights who've been training for years and armed with every sort of weapon you could possibly think of, and they were all defeated in a night." He shook his head, staring drunkenly at his cards.
"You know what finished that city off though, right?" His friend started. I quietly exited back to my station behind the bar, half listening to their rambling as I washed empty glasses. "A demon." He finished, throwing a pair of aces down in front of him.
I rolled my eyes.
"One demon. All by itself. Took out the city in one night." He continued his rambling, and I tuned the conversation out. Again, with the demon clan. Blah blah blah. If this threat was so real, then where was the army? The curfews? The rationing of goods? I had half a mind to cut these guys off right here and now.
"Miss, can I get another?" A voice called out. I turned, my arms crossed over my chest. A remark about how the man had already had enough on the tip of my tongue, when something crashed into the wall of the bar from outside hard enough to shake the building.
I stumbled, my arms going out to balance myself and my mouth hung half open in a "what-the-heck-just-happened" look. The men had dropped their cards, their gazes all fixed at the wall that had been hit.
While the wall hadn't broken, high pitched screams could be heard in the distance. Hesitantly, one of the men wobbled over to the window to determine what all the commotion was about. "By god, it's a Holy Night!" He slurred, his friends drunkenly rushed over to confirm his declaration. I stayed where I was, my eyes darting to the front door, looking for any sign of an intruder. There was no fighting festival in town. Which meant that whatever ruckus was going on outside wasn't friendly competition.
"Well shit, you're right!" The other man exclaimed. Another thud hit the wall, causing the men to jump back and lose their footing, resulting in the four of them falling on their asses, a bewildered look in their eyes.
I slowly edged behind the bar, and slipped through the back door leading to the kitchen. My fingers itched to grab the knife I'd slipped into my boot, but I held off. If there was a fight going on outside, I'd rather look unarmed and innocent than as if I were choosing sides.
Walking quickly towards the back exit, I peered through the small window that was set into the door to assess the scene. Behind the bar was an alley that was only used for deliveries of ale and food, or for taking out the trash at the end of the night. I heard my breath catch, forgetting to breathe for a second as I felt my heart pound in my chest. Funny, how just a little adrenaline could have such a large impact on the human body.
Carefully, I turned the door knob until I felt the latch click, and I edged the door open just enough for me to slip out. The chill of the night air hit the exposed skin of my arms and shoulders, the thin fabric of my violet shirt doing nothing to shield my body from the environment. While some places required their staff to wear revealing uniforms on purpose to draw customers in, I made the choice to wear the outfits myself. The fact that I got to keep all of my tips, rather than pool them together with the rest of the staff helped with that decision.
Creeping to the edge of the building, being mindful of the possibility of a stranger sneaking up behind me, I peered around the corner to the edge of the building where said Holy Knight had hit. Sure enough, not one, but two Holy Knights now lay unconscious at the base of the building. Both were dressed in full armor, their faces obscured by the fading light as the sun set. One had a long gash along his shoulder where the steel plated armor had been ripped away, leaving a dark liquid seeping from the wound. The other Holy Knight appeared uninjured, but his breast plate had been smashed in. I pressed my lips together as I weighed my options: find out if the two knights were alive and offer help or run in the opposite direction.
Damn my caring soul, I thought, as I swiftly ran the few yards to the knights, dropping to my knees as I shook the nearest one.
"Hey," I whispered, jostling the guy's shoulder, his head slumped to the side, and I felt his carotid, nothing. I winced, as I gave the guy with the beat in breast plate one last look. Switching my attention to the second Holy Knight, I carefully raised my hand to his neck. Almost as soon as my fingers grazed his skin, gray eyes opened wide, his uninjured arm grasped at my wrist, holding it in a death grip. "What happened?" I asked, as I fought the urge to pull away from him.
"You need to get out of here," The words were rushed, the panic in his voice set me on edge. "Run," he stuttered.
"Come with me," I moved onto my feet, crouching in front of him, ready to help pull the man to his feet. "I'll help you," I pushed myself up, pulling on the hand that he had wrapped around my wrist. The metal from his armor bit into my skin, but I ignored it and pulled.
The man didn't move, and I cursed myself again. "Can't believe I'm going to do this for a stranger," I muttered through clenched teeth.
I dropped down again and placed my hands on either side of the Holy Knight's face, his gray eyes staring at me franticly. "You better not make me regret this," I hissed as I pushed power from myself into him.
My own little secret: the ability to loan my magic and strength to others.
I only gave the man enough to overcome the pain of his wound, and the fear of whatever had caused the injury; because, whatever I gave to someone else took time to regenerate.
"You're a Holy Knight too! What's your name?" The man practically yelled.
"No I'm not!" I sneered, "and it's (y/n)." Once again, I attempted to pull the guy to his feet, this time, he stood, shaky at first, but he found his footing quickly.
"Can you heal him to?" The Holy Knight asked. He gestured towards the man on the ground.
"Do you see your arm? Are you still bleeding? Yes." I stated flatly, "and I can't bring back the dead either," The Holy Knight flinched at my brashness. "Now what-"
"Well shit, I didn't mean to kill the bastard," a voice drolled out behind me. I looked up to the Holy Knight, whose gaze went over my head, as he stood frozen in a fresh wave of fear. His mouth hung partly open and his eyes darted down to meet mine before looking up again.
"Run," the word was barely audible. The knight's hand jerked to his side, and I finally noticed a dagger at his hip. His hand brushed the hilt of the blade, but it's as if his nerves had gone numb, he couldn't seem to grab it. "You can't fight him," the words seemed strained, as if it took all of the Holy Knight's energy just to speak.
"What are-" I started, but was cut off as a hand shoved me aside with enough force to knock me to the ground. "What the fuck?" I yelled; pushing myself up onto my side and looking over my shoulder.
I froze. Any anger I had at the Holy Knight or whoever pushed me aside was practically drained from my body. I struggled to get on my knees, even catching my breath was exhausting. I reached for the knife in my boot, and thought better of it once I saw my assailant.
Another man stood where I had been mere seconds ago, several inches taller than the Holy Knight, dressed in a navy coat with silver armor on his arms and legs. Silver hair fell to brush his shoulders, and he gazed down at the Holy Knight with a lazy smirk on his face.
"How did the human race manage to take over Britania when you're all so weak?" The man wondered out loud, I doubt he was expecting an answer. "I guess you'll have to do though," he spoke, as he raised his arm and splayed his fingers out over the man's chest. The Holy Knight acted as if he were being strangled, choking on some unseen force, his eyes widened in terror, looking at me once more, almost begging me to run, but I was frozen in place.
Then the knight's body went limp, and I could see the glow of white light rise up from his throat and out his mouth. The light hovered between the two men for a second, then the silver haired man opened his own mouth, and ate it!?
"Wha-" The sound that escaped my mouth was more of a frightened squeak than anything comprehensible. I slammed the palm of my hand against my lips, resisting the urge to scream. All of the stories from my patrons at the bar rushed back to me at once. What had they been so afraid of? Oh right, soul eating demons. I felt shaky, and if I weren't already on the ground I'd probably faint. Damn me for writing all those tales off as a hoax.
I looked up once more. First, I glanced at the Holy Knight. His muscles had gone slack, his eyes dimmed, and any hint of the man, whose name I hadn't even known, was gone. I glanced at the monster beside him. As if he just remembered my existence, he idly looked over his shoulder, black eyes meeting mine. "I guess you're next," he stated, as his attention focused on me.
I felt nothing but fear, and thankfully, finally, my self-preservation kicked in. I vaguely felt my hands push against the ground, felt my body shift its weight onto my feet, and push off against the ground. I whipped my body around the corner, back down the alley behind the bar. Turning blindly at the next chance I got and unknowingly throwing myself into the chaos of my home town.
Camelot had been defeated by a single demon, the old drunk's voice rambled on in my head. But it couldn't be the same one, right? I continued my sprint through town, taking random turns down roads that I'd yet to explore, trying to put as much distance between myself and that monster.
Eventually, I came to a thin corridor behind a row of houses. Well, more like shacks rather than houses. Certainly not the safest part of town, but luckily it would seem that the demon didn't both chasing after me. I stumbled and held myself up against a nearby wall. The wood bent beneath my weight as I leaned against it. Definitely not the best place to be. I crouched down, concealing myself behind what was probably a dumpster but, I couldn't care less right now. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, consciously slowing my breathing as I let my brain process what had just happened.
"Mommy, someone's outside," my head jolted up fast enough to give myself whiplash as my eyes met a pair of tiny blue ones.
And there's the first chapter. Hope you liked it, comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. I apologize for any bad grammar; like I said, it's been a while since I've written anything. Chapter 2 is already in progress.