Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.

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Breathe

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"I don't really know what I thought Hell would be like, but it wasn't this."

I must have woken the Human, despite my attempts to rise from bed without disturbing him. His voice comes from behind me, still on the bed. There is still a hint of tension in his voice, but he seems more at ease than yesterday.

I do not answer him. I am seated on the floor, soles of my feet pressed together, hands pushing my knees as far down as I can manage them. Breathe in through the nose. Hold it in. Let the air out. Breathe in. Breathe out. My focus is on my head, a point just behind my eyes.

"At least it's not all on fire," the Human continues. "It's kind of cold sometimes, even."

My focus goes down my face. Breathe in. Breathe out. The spark of my attention traces down through my head.

"And you demons just seem so... normal, I guess." A small pause from the Human. "Hanging out at the bar, playing games. It's like, when you aren't tormenting the damned, you guys are just, well, people."

The Human is making my morning meditation quite difficult to focus on. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus is in my throat.

"I mean, I guess you're not really like the others. Whoever heard of a demon praying?"

I grit my teeth, then speak. "It would be a delight if you would allow me a moment's silence."

I hear no reply from the Human. I breathe out in a huff, then start over. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on the cord on power within. Head, throat, chest, stomach, groin. Breath in. Breathe out.

There's a rustling sound, footsteps, then the vibrations of a body sitting down. I peek out the corner of my eye and see the Human beside me, a blanket draped around his body. He's adjusting his legs to match my pose, mouth taut in concentration as he attempts to force his knees to the ground as well.

I sigh and lift a hand to rub between my eyes. "Human-"

"My name's Nicolas."

"Nicolas, then."

I lean over and pull the blanket off Nicolas's body, and he shrinks away in surprise while covering himself with his hands. I then shuffle my own body around until I am facing the Human, and I motion for him to face me as well.

"Sit with your knees and heels together," I say as I demonstrate. "Grasp your ankles and pull them closer to you, not until you feel pain, just until discomfort."

Nicolas copies me slowly. He looks at me with a wordless question in his eyes, and I nod my approval.

I continue, "Now, place your hands between your knees, palms out, and slowly push your legs outward. Again, the goal is discomfort, not pain."

Nicolas hesitantly does so. His eyes are locked with mine, then darting lower down my body, then back up to my eyes. Apprehension? Intimidation? Some combination of the two, for certain. He doesn't hold the pose for long before curling back in on himself, a wince on his face and a clench in his teeth.

I attempt a gentle smile. "That was well done for a beginner. Now, if you will leave me to finish-"

"Wait." The Human hurriedly gets back into the sitting position. "I want to finish it, too."

I let out a long breath, then slide myself over to the Human's side and adjust his feet and hands myself. "Gently. Stretch, not tear."

Nicolas shudders at my touch, but complies, slowly returning to the seated pose. His skin is covered in bumps and raised hairs.

I place a hand on the back of the Human's head, and the other on his forehead. "Breathe deep. Breathe slow. Focus on the core of where I touch." I breathe deep as well. "This is the spark of wisdom, sitting deep in your head. Each wistful thought, each cunning plan, each boundless fantasy, springs from this spark. Breathe in and let the spark of your mind be bathed in it, and let out a breath soaked in your brilliance."

Nicolas shivers, and he breathes in and out, slowly and deliberately. His hair is brown, not the darkest I have seen on a Human, but dark indeed. I try to picture his eyes. Blue? That sounds right.

I slide my hands down, across his head and face, until one hand is at the nape of his neck, and the other gentle covers his throat. Nicolas breath catches, and I feel his pulse quicken under my touch.

"Breath deep. Breathe slow."

The Human shudders and obeys.

I breathe as well. "This is the spark of speed, sitting out at your throat. Each sudden reflex, each eager twitch, each whirlwind sprint, springs from this spark. Breathe in and let the spark of your voice be bathed in it, and let out a breath soaked in your stride."

His face bears small hairs, the beginnings of a Human man's beard. The lengths are uneven, signs of inexperience with a shave, to the best of my knowledge.

One hand is now at the Human's back, the other on his chest. "Breathe in. Breathe out. This is the spark of courage, sitting atop your heart. Each resolute stance, each quaking shout, each fiery roar, springs from this spark. Breathe in and let the spark of your passion be bathed in it, and let out a breath soaked in your fury."

He is not weak, but not particularly strong, either. The muscles under my fingers are tight, yet thin. His heart races under my palm, but he breathes slowly as I had said.

"Breathe in. Breathe out." My hand is further down his back, the other on his stomach. "This is the spark of power, sitting around your core. Each glorious feat, each pounding force, each desperate strain, springs from this spark. Breathe in and let to spark of your strength be bathed in it, and let out a breath soaked in your might."

He is thin. A place like this will waste him until he's nothing but skin and bone. If he is to thrive in Perim, it can't be in a place as inhospitable as this.

I begin to lower my hands again, but I pause. This is not a new brother on the Red Hand. This is a small, vulnerable Human. "And that should be enough," I say as I pull my hands away.

Nicolas's hand jerks up and briefly takes hold of mine. He lets go quickly, his hand frozen in the air. He stares ahead, breathing through gritted teeth. "I..." He takes another breath and lets it out slowly. "I want to learn the whole thing. This is how you always teach it, right?" His head turns up to meet my gaze, and his eyes are filled with both fear and focus. "Don't treat me like I'm different."

There is a story behind that conviction, I can tell. "You don't have to let me touch you," I say. "I know that Humans view touching differently than-"

"I'm not different," Nicolas repeats, fire in his eyes and force in his voice. "If I'm going to live in Hell, then I'll make myself as strong as any other demon."

This Human is a fighter, I realize. He's been living off scraps of garbage, surviving in a land and with a people that are hostile to the weak. That he isn't already a chewed-up corpse in a ditch somewhere is a testament to his resolution.

I can't help but smile. "Then let us continue, mighty Human."

Nicolas lowers his hand back to his knee and closes his eyes. He shudders at my touch as my hand reaches down and cradles soft, vulnerable flesh. I pause, and he breathes in and out before nodding.

"This is the source of energy, sitting at the foundation of your sparks. Each action, each moment, each urge, is fueled by this source."

I place my other hand on the back on his head again. "Breathe in deep," I say as I slowly drag my hand down. "Breathe through the spark of your wisdom, of your speed, or your courage, of your power. Breathe down to your source, and fill your breathe with your energy."

Nicolas breathes deeply as I instructed, chest and stomach expanding with his inhalation. His fingers are clenched tightly around his knees. I can feel his flesh throbbing beneath my hand.

"Breathe out," I command, pressing my hand into his flesh, then dragging it up his stomach, his chest, his throat, over his face. Air rushes past my fingers as they pass his mouth. "Bathe your sparks in your energy. Know your body, and let your body know you."

I let go of Nicolas and step back as I stand. The Human continues to breathe in, to breathe out, eyes closed. After several more breathes, he opens his eyes.

"Whoa." There's a light in his eyes and a slight tremble in his fingers. "That was... intense." His eyes drop down to my body, and he blushes and lowers his head. Then he flushes redder in the face as he covers his own body's excitement with his hands.

Nicolas's embarrassment is almost amusing. "Get dressed. I will make sure you get a proper meal."

The Human cringes. "I, uh, don't have any clothes."

I fold my arms and frown. "I saw you wearing clothing last evening."

Nicolas averts his gaze. "I, well, traded them in exchange for not getting beat up."

Meaning he got mugged. "Then just come with me down for breakfast," I sigh as I rub my eyes with one hand. I turn to the stairs.

"Naked?" Nicolas asks incredulously. "Aren't you getting dressed?"

I turn back the to Human, raise my arm up and clench my fist. "Solidarity!" I bark. "If you cannot cover yourself before breakfast, then we shall both eat with our spears thrust forward and our heads held high!"

Nicolas bursts out laughing, and he awkward waddles along behind me, hands still covering his groin.

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Nicolas drinks from his mug of beer while eyeing his bowl of soup with trepidation. Every once in a while he glances about and hunches over his drink with a shudder.

Our presence has not gone unnoticed. The three imps steal glances at us between each hand of cards in their new game. The werewolf, now sporting a tight-fitting shirt and pair of shorts, chews on a thick, jagged bone as he stares at Nicolas. Grakak pokes her head out of the kitchen every once in a while, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks at the Human sitting opposite me. Only the boar-man seems uninterested in us, instead resting his arms and head on his table, snoring, surrounded by empty mugs.

I swallow another mouthful of soup and wipe my mouth. "Yes, it's disgusting, but it has to be better than the garbage you've been eating before now."

Nicolas glances up at me, then back down to the bowl. "The day I arrived here, a green demon drove in on this hover-car thing, badly hurt. Looked a little like the cook over there. She tried to bandage him up, but he didn't make it."

I nod. "Sometimes things like that happen down here."

The Human stares at me. "Well, um, that woman? Afterward, she chopped up the demon's body, and..." His voice trails off, and he stares at the bowl in front of him and pokes at a floating meaty chunk.

"Ah." I lift up my bowl and take another swig. "I thought this tasted a little like goblin," I say between chews.

Nicolas's mouth is hanging open, and his eyes are bulging. "That doesn't bother you?"

I swallow, clear my throat and set the bowl down. "People like us, we need to take what we can get our hands on." I point at Nicolas and his bowl of soup. "The crops can suddenly fail, the hunting can go lean, all at a moment's notice. At times like this, creatures will dig through garbage if it means staying alive."

Nicolas stares at the bowl again, looking a little green in the face.

I down another mouthful of soup. "In cities where food isn't likely to go scarce? There are burials there. Memorials. Long lines of relatives with tearful goodbyes." I gesture at the creatures around me. "Out here? A fallen loved one is another day without going hungry."

Nicolas continues to stare at his bowl, then pushes it away and downs a mouthful of beer. "I'm not that desperate."

This is definitely not the place to leave this Human. I down the last of my soup and beer, then stand. "Very well. I have hardtack in my bags to last you until we reach civilization."

Nicolas's eyes shoot up to mine. "Wait, 'we'?"

I nod. "I will get my armor on and my steed ready while you finish up."

Nicolas grits his teeth. "Er, about your steed..."

I feel my heart plummet. "Gods below, what happened?"

Nicolas says nothing, instead glances back at the bone-chewing werewolf.

I stare as well. "Gods damn it all," I growl. I hear a cracking of ceramic from the mug in my hand, and I set it down. I turn to the kitchen and march to the doorway.

Grakak emerges from the smoke and steam as I approach, again with a suckling child. "More soup? Or maybe ye changed yer mind 'n want ol' Grakak to give this log o' yers some love and attention."

I shove aside the old goblin's hand before she can touch my shaft. "I heard your late husband had a vehicle. How much for it?"

Grakak's smile vanishes, and she hoists up the child and switches it over to her other breast. "Oh, there is no amount o' coin that will make me part from that piece o' junk." She massages her reddened and swollen nipple the child had previously been sucking at. "I might be persuaded to give it up if ye do me a favor, though."

I cannot make my journey on foot. I need that vehicle. "Name it."

Grakak gives me a cold, mirthless grin.

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Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.