It was a nice job, clean and fast. Link climbed down from the tower afterwards, retrieving the documents and disposing of the body.
Having skipped lunch and dinner,-no eating before a kill- Link was starving. His body, trained to silence, felt like it had been pulled through a roller. Link's stomach growled quietly. Boots crunching on the fallen autumn leaves, Link allowed himself a moment to relax.
The skies glittered with a thousand stars, as visible as dusty snow. Link spotted a shooting star. He sat back to enjoy the magnificence of the flashing lights.
Tracing the trail with his eyes, he frowned. Was the star…falling?! Link started walking faster, his eyes glued to the star.
The light dropped down the sky slowly, disappearing behind the tall woods. Link could feel the soft, barely noticeable vibration from the strangely quiet landing. A meteor? Morbid curiosity beckoned him in the star's direction.
With footsteps silent as a fox, he approached the area in a fast walk, then speeded to a full blown run. His breath came out in a smoking fog, warm in the cold fall air. He could see a speck of something white inside the shallow crater. White and, - moving?
Link shifted forward with caution, deliberately crouching to peer at the object from behind a clump of bushes. He saw movement. It was a finger, paperwhite and grasping weakly at empty air. Like a hairthin twig in a summer storm, the trembling hand struggled to stay level, reaching for something Link could not see. He heard choked animal sound. …Is that a person?
He approached carefully, hands on his bow and heart in his throat. The figure was stirring. It seemed to be trying to speak, but its voice croaked on dryness and set Link's teeth on edge.
There was something unnatural happening.
"Hoa….hel…" It laid on its front, face in the ground. The words were muffled in the mud. "Masyer..preasw" The creature did not seem to notice Link poking its body with a stick, and gave no indication of being aware of its surrounding.
Link squatted on his knees, prying the creature's face from the sticky mud. Clutching its pale shoulders, he rolled it face up.
"Holy….." He's beautiful. Thick silver eyelashes rested on frigid high cheekbones, glistening in the moonlight. Its ashen lips move in a never-ending chant, in strange languages that Link had never heard. He gazed at the stunningly ethereal features, unconsciously lowering his face closer to the being. As if drawn by a magnet, his lips parted, his eyelashes lowered, their noses were almost touching.
Suddenly, its eyes snapped open. Link startled, swearing and scooting backwards into the dirt. The molten gold eyes glowed at him in the semi-darkness. Totally disturbing.
"…Skychild?" It said to Link, turning to stare at him with blown pupils. His eyes look…..high. And, skychild? Is he an angel? On drugs? The goddess wouldn't approve…
"A-are you an angel?" Link stammered. Those eyes pinned him to the earth. He froze like a tree rooted to the ground-still with terror. The creature certainly looked similar to those paintings in the temples, but there was something….different about it. It was beautiful in a dangerous, toe curling way. Like the beauty of a razorsharp knife, lustrous in the sun as it dropped upon your neck and splattered your world crimson, the agony bloomin- Link shuddered.
The faint blush of fever painted the creature's face. "It's been so long…Do you still remember me?"
Link shook his head, deciding that the creature was delirious with fatigue and was blabbing nonsense. Touched by a bout of charity—or insanity—he opted against just leaving it in the ditch for nature. It must be the strange guilt he always carried after a completed mission. Link prepared for the arduous task of carrying/dragging it home. If the being wasn't an angel sent by the goddess, he could just sell it off to some priests for research.
"C'mon. Let's get you warmed up and clean."
It was dark and filthy and she couldn't believe her vainglorious brother could stand to live in a place like this. Damp muck stuck to the floor, smelling like a putrid mix of rotten egg and buckets of waste.
Frustrated, she kicked an old metal can, watching as it rolled pathetically on the debris. Where was he? So many nights, days, bloody months, she spent searching far and wide. But even the most talented tracker wouldn't be able to find him.
It was as if he had just disappeared, without a trace. The only thing she was sure of was that he wasn't dead. He couldn't be.
Sometimes she wasn't even sure he was mortal.
She didn't care is she had to slog him back by his hair, that idiot was not leaving her to please the master alone.
They were created together, and she would make certain that they died together.
Link awoke to the sounds of cooking and a trilling kettle. Groaning, he pushed himself off the mattress. Pillows and the blanket were lying on the floor, having fallen off the bed from his nightly thrashing.
His bed was located on the high wooden mini-floor, raised above his kitchen and living space. It was designed like a swaying platform attached to the ceiling by sturdy metal chains. The only way to get on or off was a brass ladder was fastened on the very edge.
Link peered down below.
A pale and—really, really, tall–figure was standing at his fire stove, cooking what smelled like eggs and herb tea. Its lengthy snowy hair tangled on the floor. Link wondered how many decades it took to grow hair that long.
With a rumbling tummy,—supper was a pack of dry biscuits and a fermented carrot –he climbed off his bed and headed down the ladder.
The humanoid creature—angel thing—ignored him and continued cooking, humming a strangely familiar tune. When he reached the ground floor, Link cautiously tip toed to his sword and held on tight as he approached the figure warily.
"Uh…Good morning?" Link said cagily, trying his best to look normal as the figure turned around. What he didn't anticipate, though, was the fact that its long hair covered most of its body from behind. From the front, however…..
This thing needs clothes.
The pale man-angel thing was stark naked, and Link could feel his eyes drifting down, down down…
Whatever speech or monologue he had prepared about house rules or the origin of the creature fled his mind immediately, leaving him gaping like a fish in front of the ethereal being. It was still holding a wooden spoon; head cocked to side, regarding Link questioningly.
"Greetings, human." Link jerked his gaze up, face burning. Oh my god the thing can talk.
"Urm.. ah… Would you like something to wear?" Link focused his eyes on the creature's pale forehead. Wow that's a very smooth forehead, so wrinkle-free. I just have to focus on not thinking about its dic-shiiiiit.
"Garments would be fabulous, thank you." It said, turning back around nonchalantly to continue cooking. Link left the room to look for his old trunk filled with clothing. He was fairly sure that nothing he had would fit the being, but ill-fitting clothes were still better than no clothes at all.
After handing it his loosest tunic—the creature had broader shoulders—Link averted his glance as it dressed.
"So uh, what exactly are you?" He mumbled, staring at the wood floor. There were sounds of rustling cloth.
"Humans call my kind, 'demons', though you could also call me a spirit. In fact, I would much prefer that title."
"Do you- uh, have a name?" He heard the buckling of a leather belt.
"I fear that memory has escaped my clutches. I recall nothing before awakening in your basement this morning."
Link gulped. That basement was locked and reinforced with spell wards…..
"Sorry about that. There wasn't any space left…" And I was kind of hoping that you would die in there with the fever you had….
Link turned around to face the demon. It looked so strange to see such an elegant creature wear his ratty old and so very ordinary clothes. He would have expected him to wear silks, or some fantastical tailored outfit.
"Ghir. Ghira…" The demon murmured. "Ghira-something, I believe."
"Ghira? Your name is Ghira?"Link said. What an exotic name. "It suits you well."
Ghira tossed his hair off of one bare shoulder. It seemed like the torso was too tight, so he had opted to wear only the pants and boots. The townspeople are going to freak when they see him shirtless.
His house was by the outskirts of the forest, farther away from the hustle and bustle of everyday citizens. Few people ever passed the trail that led to his home, and fewer people ever travelled deep enough to reach him.
"Ghira, stay inside until you're feeling better. I don't think you're feeling quite well yet." The demon glared at him when he said that.
"I don't want you where people can see. You're too weird-looking to go outside." Link continued without thinking. Ghira's face darkened. The room temperature plummeted.
"What….did you just say?" If looks could kill, Link would be dead. The first trace of demonic power escaped, and Link backed away slowly. Ghira threw dramatically his hands into the air; his pose straightened.
"The worm in the earth, this piece of dust beneath my heels, dares say that my being is anything less than perfect?!" The demon made threatening gestures with his hands, as if he was strangling some poor invisible boy. He advanced on Link.
"Hey! Back off!" Link shoved at him when he got too close. "You should be grateful I saved you from that ditch, you egoistical brute. I could've left you to die."
Fury roiled off of Ghira in toxic waves, almost knocking him over with the intensity.
Link drew his sword. Ghira growled menacingly.
"Do not, measly pest, think that I am harmless because of my head trauma; do not dare imagine, in that tiny insect skull of yours, that you will ever have to right to order me around."
Link blinked, and found himself face to face with the livid demon. He was so close their noses were almost touching; his eyes bored smoking holes into Link's soul.
"I only bow to one man, and even though I don't remember who it was, it is most definitely, not you."
"That doesn't change the fact that I saved your life!" Link snarled, fighting against his fear. He pointed the sword at Ghira's chin.
A burning smell wafted between the two of them, and Link realized the eggs were burning. Ghira ignored the pointy blade beneath his face and snapped his fingers, turning off the stove without even blinking.
Link gasped. Magic?!
Unconsciously, his sword lowered. "You can do magic?" It might've been his imagination, but it looked like the menace in Ghira's eyes lessened. Link was certain there was an expression of absolute terror and amazement on his face.
"Magic? That is child's play." Ghira looked down on him from between his snowy demon eyelashes, and smiled coldly.
"There are leagues between us in terms of power. Had I wished you dead, you're remains would already have been fed to the dogs, their shit thrown into the ocean for sea scum to consume."
Link was shocked into silence at the creativity of his imagined death, and then looked down in defeat. "Ghira, just back off. Please."
The demon looked surprised for a second, then sniffed at him and returned to cooking. Why the hell is he cooking if he can just do it with magic?
Heavenly scents of melted butter filled his house, and the sounds of fizzling oil occupied the awkward silence between them. It was Link's time off from missions, so he was free the entire day. Settling himself into an old comfy armchair, he watched Ghira work.
The demon was graceful, and much swifter than a human could ever be. He worked with what seemed like a purposeful enjoyment. He started humming.
That tune is….strangely familiar.
Without realizing, Link began to softly whistle the melody. It was a beautiful ballad, the harmony of the two sounding oddly comforting.
"Do you know the song, skychild?" Link shook his head. "Me neither. It just happened to be stuck in my head." Ghira said.
"Why do you call me skychild?" Link asked, getting up to retrieve some plates. Ghira shrugged in response. Demon and teenager set the table together, the past argument seemingly forgotten.
Link tentatively lifted the spoon of omelet near his mouth. For god's sake a demon made this it can't taste that goo- .GODDESS.
It was the best damn thing he'd ever tasted. Ghira had layered egg, cheese, and ham, complete with a cream and gravy sauce artistically blended as filling. Mushrooms (his favorite!) were arranged on the side, with their own dipping.
A glass of milk was placed beside him. milk? I'm not 10 anymore….
"Skychild, I think we might've known each other." Ghira's plate was untouched. "My eyeballs somehow seem accustomed to seeing you."
Ghira reached over the table, touching Link's hair lightly. "Didn't your hair used to be brown?"
Link looked at him as if he was crazy. He said through a mouthful of food, "Sorry but I think you're confusing me for someone else. We've never met before last night." But I'm willing to pretend we're best pals if it means you'll make more food for me.
"I see. Are you almost done?" Ghira stood up from the timber chair, gazing down at Link.
"Almost. Are you going to each that?" Ghira answered no and Link proceeded to devour the demon's portion. Link couldn't remember seeing the demon eat yet, and wondered why he would bother cooking human food for himself if he couldn't eat it. Is it some kind of hobby for him? Must be. With my luck his food will end up being something like baby flesh.
"Let's go hunting." Ghira suggested, waving at Link to follow him through the back door that lead to the woods. He was about to grab his hunting bow when Ghira stopped him.
"You can be the spectator."
Watching Ghira hunt was frankly terrifying. Flashes of what seemed like freaking magical lightning struck down squirrels with disturbing accuracy: all his prey was shot exactly through the eyes. As the demon took down victim after victim, Link was admiring the scenery.
Like most days during autumn, the sun was shining but the weather was cool. This was Lore's favorite season…. Link personally preferred spring; it was the most refreshing of all the seasons. However, autumn was his second favorite.
The fall leaves were always stunning with marvelous shades of gold, brown, and yellow. Like one last desperate explosion of life before their death, the leaves of fall were the most beautiful of the year.
Earlier, Link had pointed out a deer but Ghira had refused to kill it, saying "Large prey is too easy for the likes of me. Squirrels and birds are much more entertaining."
By the time Ghira fulfilled his demon blood lust, he had a waist high pile of dead small animals. Conjuring an obsidian knife, he began to methodically cut and gut each prey.
"Ghira. What will you do after this? Will your memories come back?" Link asked sitting on a tree stump and watching the blood and guts drip on the ground.
Sighing, Ghira answered "Since you have never heard of arcane beings like me, chances are that I'm a very special exception. This would make me possibly a high ranking member of society or a sorcerer."
He paced as he talked, dripping scarlet on the ground and leaving gory footprints. "However, I've discovered that there are combat techniques stored in my muscle memory, so it's more likely that I'm some kind of bodyguard to someone important."
"Oh. So you're a warrior?" Link got curious as Ghira made an affirmative noise. His frosty hair was braided and clipped up; escaped bangs hung around his face, framing his pale chin in white. Link observed the hard muscle lining the demon's lean body.
"That's awesome. Wanna spar?" Link asked.
Ghira snorted and drove his knife through a small rabbit's head. "You? Spar with me?"
Link shifted uncomfortably. The demon stood two heads above him, and was a great deal more muscular, too. Link himself spent most of his time drilling bow and sword techniques, but still had the soft slim look of baby fat and youth.
"What about it?"
"Trust me; I recall enough to disarm you with one finger. You wouldn't stand a chance."
Ghira finished gutting and cleaning the entire pile of victims, leaving a heap of bloody fresh meat on a single clean leaf. He handed the dirty knife back to Link. With bare hands, he plucked a messy chunk and put it in his mouth.
Raw meat?
"Don't look so sickened. It's my favorite food." Ghira said, blood painting his lips crimson. A single drop escaped and dripped down his chin. Link saw a tongue as red as dragon's breath peek out to lick the scarlet liquid from his fingers. It was an abnormally long tongue, nearly reaching his chin in length.
Link shuddered involuntarily. He realized that there were almost nothing in his appearance to give away Ghira's demonic nature. To the human eye, Ghira looked like a normal, albeit very attractive albino man with outrageously long hair.
However, there was just something about his aura…the way he moved -like a ruthless predator- the chill that seemed to emanate from his very being. Ghira's simple presence disturbed and set on edge the human mind. He unnerved humans the same way a deadly cobra would a helpless mouse.
Link watched him devour the flesh with increasing nausea. The demon did not seem to mind his spectator, in fact, Link believed he had insisted on him doing nothing but viewing.
Bones were neatly deposited on the side, the pile ever so slowly growing. Ghira's hunger seemed infinite. Link wondered when was the last time the demon ate; he looked perfectly healthy, not starved at all.
If his hunger is strong enough, would he attack humans? Is keeping him here really the most responsible thing to do….
It wasn't. The most responsible thing to do was to write to the temple and deliver the demon to them as soon as possible. Link remembered his brother's words.
What if the priests weren't as pure as they claimed? What is the demon is used for…some other, darker intention?
No, it was much too dangerous to tell anyone of Ghira's presence.
Letters could be intercepted; the demon could escape while Link was gone. He couldn't alert anyone without risking someone's safety.
He could see that Ghira was finished, now. All that was left was a pile of bones and traces of blood everywhere. The demon looked satisfied, for the time being at least. Standing up, he gestured for Link to follow him.
"Is there a stream around here or something? I'm in need of cleaning." Ghira stated, heading down a trail that led deep into the woods. Link was fairly sure he's never been down this path before.
The demon didn't seem to mind that Link didn't answer. He just walked on, following whatever demon instincts that would apparently lead him to water.
The ground was covered with rotted leaves and the smell of cool nature was everywhere. Rays of sunlight pierced through rare holes where the abundant tree leaves didn't grow. All was silent but for the sounds of their footsteps.
Lore would have loved it here.
Peaceful autumn, ideal relaxation environment. There was a bend in the trail ahead, and he fell behind to wonder at the exquisite colors. Suddenly, Link heard a peculiar, keening sound. It sounded a lot like…screaming?!
Snapping out of his serene mood, Link whipped his head around.
"Ghira! Where are you?" He heard no answer from the thick woods.
The screaming was steadily getting louder.
The trail got narrower.
A boulder of ice dropped from his throat to his stomach as he realized–
Ghira was nowhere to be found.
A/N: hey! sorry i've been going on and off since the beginning of this story, *pfft* exam week x( Thankyou to PheonixCaptain for the most wonderful birthday present review :))))) I've been thinking about changing this fic to monthly updates with longer chapters, any thoughts?