Author's Note: I would have had this up a couple of days ago, but my muse decided to run away (again... I call her my bug when I'm mad at her). I hate my muse... she always leaves when I need her the most. Recent events probably scared her away, and I don't blame her. My muse is a coward. I also made a DeviantART account a couple weeks ago. My s/n is DemonicFairyCakeX for those of you who are interested in reading my emo poetry and the unfinished crap that I know will make its way on there. Anyway, enjoy!
I had forgotten just how empty and vast my homeland was. Even though it was early spring, there was snow everywhere, and it hugged the foliage and uneven ground like a white blanket. It was a wasteland; even harsher than the desert I often had to cross to get to the Organization's headquarters. I paused, turning to look back at the footprints I had made, and shivered. Even though half-breeds aren't supposed to feel cold, I still felt it, but not in the way humans do. There was a complete absence of warmth, leaving numbness in its place. We had only, officially, been in the northern territories for less than a week, but I was already sick of the place.
Teresa and Clare were seeking shelter in the mountains, while I was headed for the nearest town. I had claimed that the food we had gotten for Clare wouldn't last much longer, and hunting wasn't an easy thing to do in this frozen kingdom. So, Teresa—who assumed I knew my way around the north—had sent me to the nearest town to get more supplies. I had no idea where the nearest town was, there was plenty of food left, and I was perfectly capable of hunting for Clare. I had another mission. Well, I couldn't exactly call it a mission. I had no destination in mind, or a plan. To put it simply, I was driven by a gnawing ache that had been growing since we had first arrived here. My only desire was to get rid of it, and move on.
I exhaled slowly, watching as my breath escaped me in the form of a cloud, and was carried off by the steady wind that pushed at my back. I turned back around, squinting as the gust of wind stung my eyes. There was a long distance to cover between me and wherever I was headed. That was all I knew.
The moon had already begun its journey across the night sky when I first saw the human footprints. Well, they appeared human at first. I followed them for awhile, and witnessed the bare human feet grow in size with every step, until I was gazing at the tracks of a monster. The tracks had taken me into a forest of pine trees, when they stopped. Signs of a fight were obvious. Hand, foot and body prints sullied the perfect white snow, along with the crimson color of blood. A corpse lay under one of the trees, so torn apart that I couldn't tell if it had been male or female. Its skull had been cracked open, its contents long gone. Bits of flesh had been scattered around from when the yoma had torn open the human's stomach. The corpse was missing its arms, leaving bloody stumps in their places. I didn't need to look around for footprints to know that the yoma had taken the human's form, and headed off to the village where its prey had come from.
Utterly disgusted, I turned to walk away, when I heard something moving. Instantly, my hand flew to the hilt of my sword, ready for whatever jumped out at me. But nothing did. "Who's there," I barked into the darkness. "Show yourself."
My only reply was the howl of the wind through the trees, and the rustle of blankets. Wait, blankets? I approached the corpse again, my eyes falling on a bundle by its side. Sure enough, something within it moved. Curiosity got the best of me, and I crouched down in front of it, slowly unwrapping the blanket. A pair of bright blue eyes gazed up at me. My body stiffened when I realized I was looking at a human child. This child wasn't just any human, either; the pointed ears on the sides of its head signaled that it belonged to what remained of my tribe. It must have belonged to the human that was slain, and the yoma forgot about it.
Instantly, I felt the need to kill it. With its parent—that I now assumed was the mother—dead and a yoma on the loose, it had little chance of survival. It would be kind to end its life now, and spare it the agony that lay waiting in the future. I couldn't make myself do it. I raised my blade over my head and it was as if someone grabbed onto it, holding it there, refusing to let me slice open the tiny human being. With a sigh, I placed my sword in the sheath on my back, rather displeased with how soft I was becoming. "Well now, what am I going to do with you, little bundle of joy?" I said, glaring down at the little creature.
Further inspection of the child wasn't needed to tell that it was male; something about its pale face just seemed masculine. He reached up with his tiny hands and made a gurgling noise, obviously wanting something. "You're hungry," I observed, catching a flicker of pain in the child's eyes. "Sorry, kid, but you're going to have to wait while I figure out what to do with you." He opened its mouth, like he was going begin crying. Before the human could make a sound, I slipped my index finger between his pink lips. The child froze for a moment, before attempting to suck milk from my finger. His eyes closed halfway, content to at least have something in his mouth.
What should I do with him? I frowned, considering the options left. I could always leave it here in the snow, so it can freeze to death, but that would be too cruel. Bringing it back with me to Teresa and Clare would be too much of an inconvenience, plus it wasn't something I wanted to deal with. Leaving it with a family in another town just didn't seem right. Deciding on one last option, I picked up the bundle, cradling it in my arms. I was extremely unhappy with what I had to do. I didn't trust myself around humans, especially children. "I don't want to hear a peep out of you," I warned the baby, who was starting to fall asleep. "If you start causing any problems, I'll be happy to leave you in the snow." I didn't know if the child understood me or not, but it wouldn't hurt to threaten him into giving me some peace and quiet. My eyes searched the darkness for the yoma's footprints, and when I found them, I proceeded to follow the path they left.
Misfortune must have hit my tribe hard while I was gone; I couldn't remember ever having guards at our camps when I was growing up. I wasn't aware that there were any, until I barely dodged and arrow to the head. After the attack, I stood perfectly still, hoping whoever shot at me would get the idea that I wasn't looking for a fight.
"Who are you and what do you want?" said a gruff, male voice. I turned to look at the man it belonged to, and replied.
"A yoma killed one of your people," I said blankly. "It took the human's form and wandered into your camp, leaving the offspring of its prey behind." I lifted up the sleeping child as proof.
"Another one, eh? Well, how do I know you're not the yoma?" the man snarled, placing another arrow on his bow and pointing it at my head. "You have the silver eyes of a half-demon, but not the uniform."
I had already thought of a solution to this situation, if it were to come up. "I'm working undercover," I lied. "The Organization is conducting a study to see if there's a pattern in the type of humans yoma slaughter. They hired me to help."
"The child. Put it down," he said, after he contemplated the situation. "Put it down and back away or I'll shoot."
Even though I could have easily deflected any arrows that were sent my way, I did as he asked, and place the child carefully in the snow at my feet, before backing away. With every step I took, the human took one too, until he reached the baby. Cautiously, he poked it with the toe of his boot. When the child didn't turn into a hideous monster and rip his head off, he picked it up, holding it close to him. "This is Aoede's child," said the man in a grave tone. "He and his siblings are orphans now. His father died last week, and according to you, the mother is now a monster… Sister, will you slay it for us? The yoma, that is. We'll pay you what we can, but it won't be much."
"I'll do it for free," I said. Without another word, I walked toward the warm glow of a campfire in the distance, where I knew their camp was. The man followed behind me.
"May I ask your name, sister?"
"Irene," I said with a harsh edge in my voice. "And I'm not your sister. I haven't been part of your tribe for years."
He seemed to ignore everything I said, accept for my name. "Irene, you were Crysanthe's daughter, weren't you? That poor woman. I remember her from when I was growing up. My father said she was brilliant, always had a cure for whatever sickness found us…"
I blocked out the rest of his babbling as a pang of longing suddenly washed over me. I missed my mother, and my father. I missed spending hours out in the snow, chasing small animals and dancing on frozen rivers. When I became aware of the fact I was standing right in front of a worn, animal skin tent, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, trying to clear my head of those awful, painful memories. I grasped the hilt of my sword, drawing it and holding it at my side. With a deep breath, I pushed back the flap and entered. Three humans were inside it. One was an adult woman, the yoma. She slept in the far right corner of the small tent, completely unaware of my presence. Two children slept on the other side of the tent; one boy who looked 16, and another who appeared to be Clare's age.
Before I could have second thoughts, I brought my blade down, cutting into the neck of the yoma in disguise. It screamed the moment the cold metal touched its skin, but it only lasted a moment; it was replaced with the sound of the cracking of bone as the head was detached from the neck. Almost instantly, the corpse began to transform from human into monster. The noise of the yoma's death woke both of the children.
"NO!" screamed the girl, her eyes instantly filling with tears at the sight of the monster. She glared up at me, her eyes filled with pure hatred. "You monster!" she snarled, and began to stand up so she could charge at me.
Her brother grabbed onto her, pulling her close to him. "Shhh, Ophelia. It's okay. She was only doing her job." Even though his voice was calm, his expression was far from it. Terror and sorrow was clearly visible on his face, but he remained strong, for his sister.
"Monster!" the girl continued to scream. "Monster! Monster! Monster!"
I searched for something comforting to say to the two, but I found nothing. So, I sheathed my sword and left the tent.
"Irene, you killed it?" asked the man who was waiting outside, but I ignored him. I went back the way I came, toward the mountains where Teresa and Clare were waiting for me. The ache I had was suddenly gone; like my only purpose for this ridiculous journey was to slay that yoma. I slept in the forest that night, and I dreamed of my mother.
Fun fact of the day: Both Ophelia and Irene are Greek names. Irene's name meaning is 'peace' and Ophelia's is 'help'. The fact that they look similar and that their names have the same origins was actually my inspiration making a new race of humans within the Claymore world. For awhile, I was worried that Teresa and Helen (also Greek names) would tear a hole in this plan, but I think it turned out just fine. So, all of the names I used are Greek. Greek names are pretty, aren't they?