Skarmandros looked out to the sea, the tide lapping his feet…if you could call them feet. They were more like claws. Dragon claws. His wings blew slightly in the sea breeze. Dragon wings. And his tail swept to and fro, impatiently. A dragon's tail. A long, black, hooded cloak shrouded all else. All except his eyes, which glowed with a dark fire…
As he waited, the demon recounted the terrible events of the last five thousand years. Five thousand years spent in a cave, waiting. Five thousand years of falling slowly under the amulet's curse. The amulet, he noted, which still hung about his neck.
About three thousand years ago it had stopped talking to him. It had consumed him completely. Its demonic spirit had become his soul. He was now a demon, a traitor, a murderer…a thing to be feared. Traits befitting his name. The name his father had given him that terrible day. He would do anything to forget that day ever happened, to erase all memory of it. But he couldn't. He would do anything to have died that day, not to have lived those five thousand terrible years of cursed immortality…but he couldn't. He was stuck, living forever with the body, the mind, the soul of something so evil he was feared by all who knew him, even himself. He was lost, confused, and helpless.
He could sense the presence of another behind him. He chuckled. "Hello, X," he hissed. The assassin smiled. "I knew I couldn't get too close without you noticing," he confessed. Skarmandros turned to face his comrade.
Like Skarmandros, X was cloaked, but it was brown, the kind street brats wear, and it only covered up to his shoulders. His long white hair was tied into a tress, and a deep scar ran all the way from his forehead to his pointed nose.
Skarmandros cleared his throat. "Welcome back. So, what did you find?" The assassin shook his head. "The soldiers are swarming the city. In a few hours, they will discover our absence." Skarmandros bowed his head. "Discover my absence, you mean. They are not hunting you."
After a period of silence, X walked off. "We should get going."
Skarmandros frowned. "Where? The soldiers have infested the city, the crossroads to all the towns for leagues. We will stick out there like a dove at a crow's birthday party. They will find us. We can't go anywhere."
X sighed. "And you say you know the world like the back of your claw. Fool. I know another path. If we follow the coast a few leagues we will reach a small village. The simple folk live there. They wouldn't recognise you. And as for sticking out, all the freaks hang out in the villages. We'll be right."
Skarmandros cringed at being called a 'freak.' "Very funny, X. Now let's get going before I change my mind about not cutting out your tongue for that remark."
X shuddered as he walked off. He had gotten used to Skarmandros' sick humour after all those years of travelling with him, but the threats still sent a shiver down his spine, knowing that he really could follow them up without a second thought.
"Milord, he's gone."
Sirius swiftly turned his horse to face the quivering soldier. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" he roared. The soldier looked up into the mercenary's steel-blue eyes, which were watching his every move.
"W-well, sir, we've searched the whole city, and the demon is not here."
Sirius leered and turned his horse, trotting off towards his associates. "This was a waste of time. Send the units back to their posts. The Fallen and I shall continue alone."
Sirius came alongside Roland, his second-in-command.
"I told you he would flee, milord," Roland asserted. "What is the point? We have chased this demon now for…for years. What makes you think we will ever catch him, let alone slay him?"
Sirius glared. "Our forefathers had a reason, and it is for this same reason that we chase him still. That demon has killed ten members of the Ostian nobility and thousands of civilians. If we do not avenge our masters, we will have failed in our duty as soldiers. That cannot happen. What is the point of quitting? We would only shame our predecessors and our followers. We MUST succeed: not only for our own sakes, but also for our forefathers…and for the people of Elibe.
"For we are the Fallen: once, we were merely soldiers of Ostia, but now, we are a band of mercenaries devoted to a cause: to protect the people, and to avenge our slain lords!"
The two outcasts arrived in the village, greeted only by hens and a small boy who couldn't stop staring at the bizarre duo. Skarmandros grunted and walked off.
"Hang on a minute!" cried X. "Where are you going?" Skarmandros kept walking, showing no sign of slowing down. "To the pub," he muttered. "I want a beer." Upon noticing the little boy, he glared angrily. "What are you looking at?"
Skarmandros entered the eerily quiet bar and took a seat. "Oi, bartender! Gimme a pint, now!" The bartender took his time, as if he was used to having demons walk into his bar and yell their lungs out at him.
Skarmandros waited impatiently. His sensitive hearing picked up an incessant scratching, and so he noticed a girl in her late teens scribbling excitedly away at a scrap of paper. Skarmandros leaned over to get a better view of the girl's writing, but she noticed him and glared. "Hey! Didn't your mother teach you manners? It's rude to look over someone's shoulder!" Skarmandros glared back. "Actually, my mother died when I was very young. I learnt everything from my father, my brother, and various tutors." The girl stopped writing and looked at him. "I'm sorry to hear that."
She smiled and held out her hand in greeting. "I'm Jo. Pleased to meet you." She waited for Skarmandros to shake her hand, but hastily withdrew it when she realised he wasn't going to.
(The bartender finally pushed Skarmandros' beer towards him; he pushed it too hard, though, and it crashed on the floor. Nobody noticed.
"He'll have to pay extra for that," the bartender muttered.)
Skarmandros tilted his head, as would a confused puppy. "Jo…is that short for something?" Jo sighed. "Josephine." Skarmandros grinned. "A lovely name for a lovely woman." Jo narrowed her eyes. "Are you getting on to me?" Skarmandros laughed. "Heavens, no. I was always taught it was polite to compliment young women on their appearance." Jo looked at him strangely. "And yet you were never taught not to look over one's shoulder…" Skarmandros chuckled. Josephine muttered to herself: "Odd. That kind of etiquette is what they teach to nobles and royalty…"
The door flew open with tremendous speed and X rushed into the room. "Skar! We have to get going! A troupe of mounted soldiers is coming this way…I think it's them!" Skarmandros got up to leave. Jo also rose, blocking his path. Her papers were shoved onto the floor as she did, and Skarmandros' beer soaked into the ink. She pretended not to notice. "Where do you think you're going? You can't just leave without explaining what's going on!" She smiled sweetly, yet evilly. "Not after we've just met." From the other side of the room, X beamed at her. She's cute. I wonder if she finds me attractive…on second thoughts, never mind.
Skarmandros was lost for words. "We, er…"
X pushed him aside. "We are being chased by bad men who want us dead," he said. Jo was unconvinced. "Oh, really." She rolled her eyes.
"It's true," Skarmandros said.
Jo grabbed Skarmandros' shoulder and dragged him towards the door. "Well, then, I'm coming with you."
X protested. "Hey! You can't-" Skarmandros stopped him, transferring a telepathic message to him. Let her come. She won't suspect anything. We just have to make her think the Fallen are the bad guys.
X was puzzled. But we're not the bad guys! he thought, knowing that Skarmandros would read his thoughts and respond.
Exactly. But it would be easier for her to understand if we told her there actually were 'good guys' and 'bad guys' in this situation. If necessary, we will go through the details when the time comes.
X sighed and followed them.
Moments later, the trio sat down in a clearing in a small forest, where they were taking a quick rest. Jo was scribbling again. (She seemed to have an unlimited number of sheets of parchment stuffed somewhere inside her coat.)
The crew had actually backtracked a little, back towards the city a bit. It was the last place the soldiers would expect them to be. Jo looked up from her paper at Skarmandros.
"Those men that were chasing you…they were Ostian, weren't they?"
Skarmandros froze.
"I saw they were wearing heavy blue riding armour. That's an Ostian trademark, no?"
Again, Skarmandros was silent.
Jo sighed. "I was just wondering if you'd done anything to offend the Marquess Ostia," she said.
Skarmandros sat right up. "There's a new marquess?"
Jo nodded. "Yeah, they finally got round to electing a new one. Most were too afraid to sign up; must be because of all those assassinations. Someone must have guts to kill ten marquesses in a row…"
Skarmandros stood up and walked off. X leapt up.
"Hoi! Where are you going?"
Skarmandros stopped. "I'm going back to Ostia. I have some business with the marquess."
X groaned. "There's no point. There will always be…another one…" His voice trailed off as he glanced towards Jo.
The demon glared at X. Hold your tongue! You're giving us away. "Stay here with Jo. Do not let her leave. I will return shortly."