Well, it's finally January 2024. And what does that mean? Well, for starters, it means I'm on a diet again, having likely gained seven pounds from my sister-in-law's lasagna alone. It also means it's likely going to be another week before I stop putting the year 2023 on any form I have to fill out. It means most movies coming out are really bad flicks that studios figured weren't worth releasing during the summer or holidays but were too costly to simply shelve (I'd put even money that's why The Beekeeper is being released now). But it also means that in 13 days, a media event I've been waiting four years for is finally going to happen. (Not going to say what, if you've been waiting for it too, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.) Course, that also means quite a lot of fanfic writers are going to be disappointed when their stories no longer make sense - bummer.
It also means we have about two years until the end of the world, as this was the opinion of physicist and philosopher Heinz von Foerster (who stated in a 1960 article in Science magazine that it would be caused by overpopulation; at least he seemed more optimistic than the guy who wrote Soylent Green) and Messiah Foundation International (who go by the "asteroid theory'), or possibly five years if you instead believe Kent Howard, who claims 2029 is the "most likely" year of the Rapture. Fortunately, once we hit 2030, it will not be until 2129 until the date of another screwball's doomsday prediction becomes an issue.
Going to be a long year. So now, The Demonskar Legacy proper starts. So read, and if you can, critque and review, it really helps.
Onward!
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Shadowchasers
The Demonskar Legacy
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Chapter One
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Pangs
Present day.
It had been just over four months since the Demonskarr Ball, and about six months since Nichole had gotten that fateful letter from Gregory.
It had been an eventful time, even by Shadowchaser standards. While all of them were still volunteering at St. Cuthbert's House, they were trying to find somewhere else to live while in Cauldron. The cathedral could function as a hostel but wasn't a place for live-in tenants. They were also doing volunteer work at the Lantern Street Orphanage and the library nearby. Francis teased Red Feather once about how adorable she looked reading to a group of grade-schoolers - though she had later told him that if he breathed a word of it when they got back to the States, she'd tear his lungs out.
Francis had enrolled in Colbert University, and while he kept mum about much of the curriculum (it was a school for magic, after all) he seemed to be doing well, and the first semester was almost at an end. He had convinced Fawley to give the others access to their libraries, a privilege that Hank and Maddie made good use of, studying their considerable archives on Cauldron's history, Shadowkind biology, and (in Maddie's case) demonology.
Shortly after the crisis with Elizabeth, Sonya took the traumatized waitress to a production of Cyrano De Bergerac at a theater house in the north part of Magma Avenue, hoping a social activity might be good therapy. Only two weeks afterwards, both had auditioned for roles in a play at a smaller establishment nearby. It wasn't exactly a high-class production, but it gave Elizabeth a hobby that did seem to improve her mood.
About two months ago, Red Feather came back to the cathedral with a black eye and a cut lip. It seemed she had actually taken up Benzi's offer to make a return appearance at the Clubber's Club Pub, and the one return appearance had turned to three. She claimed she was bored. Nichole was alarmed, of course. Seeing as trying to talk Red out of anything was pointless, so she insisted on going there with her the next time to "chaperone". After watching Red fight there twice more, Nichole had started to participate. It wasn't exactly the safest type of recreation, but the patrons eventually started to respect and even admire them, so much that they became trusted in the bad part of town. "Friends in low places" was always a valued benefit in their line of work.
And of course, the odd card game they had brought to Cauldron was becoming more and more popular, and they gladly helped teach the game of Duel Monsters to anyone who asked.
The Shadowchasers had at least found acceptance in Cauldron, but it still didn't feel welcoming, especially with the patrols of Alleybashers becoming more and more common. While they rarely discussed the larger problem at hand - or Gregory, whose latest absence had lasted far longer - it was always on the front of their minds.
But things deeper in their minds could be just as troubling…
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Ooh, thought Sonya. How…
She looked around as she sat up. She was in… a rocky desert.
Okay, retrace your steps, she thought.
A minute ago, she had been falling. Falling from a large height from… somewhere above. Somewhere nice, with beautiful trees and fluffy pink clouds. Now she was… Here.
Where was "here"?
She sat up. She saw she was in the middle of a crater that had been made in the rocky floor.
Had she made the crater as she fell? She looked up and saw a sky that was blood red. Where had she fallen from?
Standing up, the first thing she noticed was her clothes. A T-shirt, shorts, and… sneakers (yes, sneakers) that she didn't recognize. None were her style, and they clashed. She was covered with cuts, scrapes and bruises… Her bare midriff showed a very nasty, fresh scar across her lower torso.
"Why am I still alive?"
"You aren't," said a deep voice.
Seemed she was in for a fight. Sonya turned around and looked at the one who had spoken… But then, she suddenly noticed the letters printed on her new T-shirt.
"HFIL".
Even looking at the shirt backwards and upside-down, she saw them perfectly.
What did those letters mean? They meant she was in big trouble.
But she wasn't the only one having a bad dream tonight…
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How did I get here?
It was the middle of the night. Red Feather was wandering around a forest. Usually, she liked such places. Towns and cities made her nervous and uneasy, she only felt safe and secure in the unspoiled outdoors. But there was a cold, ominous presence here that made it anything but safe… this forest did not like her.
How long have I been here? she thought. For some reason, she could tell, nor could she tell why she had come here.
She heard a howling somewhere in the forest. A foreboding howl that somehow seemed familiar. She had never been afraid of wolves before… Why was she so spooked by a howl?
And for that matter, why did the huge wolf in front of her, the size of a small pony, looking at her with predatory, glowing eyes, bring her to the edge of panic?
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How many weeks… months… years had she been here? Sonya had no idea, time had no meaning in her dreams, and there was no day nor night in this infernal realm.
The demons had dragged her out of her cell and brought her to this arena, a colosseum with a sandy floor. She had been shackled - her arms had been cuffed together and then cuffed to a chain on her belt, and leg irons bolted to an iron chain hobbled her feet. Worst of all was the shorts and t-shirt she had been wearing since Bruks had found her. It was the only clothing she was given, and it stank. She seemed to think the midriff was there simply to remind her of the scar. It had healed but hadn't faded. Worst of all were the spectators. She heard them cajole her with insults and catcalls.
The two demons released her and backed up. The shackles unlatched and the chains clattered to the floor, freeing her limbs. The door slammed shut and latched behind her. Didn't matter - the only way to go was forward. Towards the golden cup on an alcove on the other side of the arena, on a balcony above a stone wall about thirty feet up.
She took off towards it, barely avoiding being impaled on an iron spike that thrust up from the ground at her starting point, then dodged past five more. She rolled out of the way as someone - she never saw who - started to lob spheres from the spectator seats, exploding when they hit the floor, then ducked a slashing rotary blade and dodged another from the floor.
Halfway there, they appeared, a hulking brute with a skull-like head and a scimitar, and a tall thin one with a snake's head holding a spear. These lunkheads weren't going to stop her; one solid kick to the large one's groin and he was down. She grabbed his weapon, and as the spear-demon lunged for her, she swiped with it, cutting him in half.
The crowd was cheering her on!
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The dire wolf slowly strode into the light. Red Feather's hand inched towards the knife on her belt…
But then, it lowered its head, whimpering. It didn't attack.
"What… what's wrong?" she asked. She held her hands forward, showing the beast they were empty. Was it frightened? Hurt?
It barked loudly, then ran ahead. She followed after.
A large clearing opened up in front of her. As she walked towards it, the clouds overhead drifted apart, revealing the moon overhead, a large, full moon that shed soft light
"NO!"
Nichole, Maddie, and Sonya were lying in the clearing… She was too late… They were dead…
Red Feather looked at the bodies of her three friends. It hadn't been a pleasant death… They were lying in pools of their own blood, and their jaws had been ripped asunder.
"Why?" she sobbed.
"They came to help you, Red Feather," said a gruff voice. "Would have been funny if it weren't so pathetic."
Red would mourn later… She drew her weapon and screamed, "TONGUE-EATER! Show yourself! Come out and face me, you filthy coward!"
Unfortunately, she had chosen the wrong direction in which to voice that threat. The savage were-baboon - who had every intention of accepting her challenge, leapt and tackled her, knocking her sword from her hand as he forced her to the ground.
Red screamed as the savage lycanthrope grabbed her by the hair. "Those three were just appetizers, Red Feather," he gloated. "Whetted my appetite…"
Red only had her left arm free - she wasn't left-handed - but managed to pull her hunting knife from her belt. She howled even louder than he had, wrenched herself free, and then jabbed it, directly into his throat…
Given how much he was howling now, she had hurt him, but had only gained a minute of reprieve, at most. The knife was made of steel - not silver - and he was already getting up. Her sword had dropped behind him, not that it would do any better.
He laughed evilly, gripping the knife and yanking it free, the wound already nearly healed. What could she do? Fight him barehanded? Run? Plead for her life?
Before she could consider any of those options, there was another loud howling. A very different one.
Tongue-Eater didn't see it coming, the beast leapt from the forest as suddenly as he had, but this time, Tongue-Eater was the target. Just as big, muscular, and savage, he was…
A wolf?
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Dropping the weapon - she needed both hands free, something she had learned - Sonya leapt, grabbing hold of the sharp rocks that were the only handholds on that wall. She grunted as she started to climb. Her hands were bleeding and it hurt badly, but she had to keep going. It was the only chance she had.
Finally, she pulled herself onto the balcony. The cheering from the crowd was deafening, and she had an urge to turn to them and bow.
Then, as she went to grab the chalice, she saw Bruks out of the corner of her eye. She made the mistake of trying to grab the chalice but didn't get to it on time. The ogre's kanabō slammed into her, and she was knocked off the balcony.
The cheers hadn't been for her. Not again, she thought, right before she hit the ground.
She felt the ground shake, Bruks leaping down from the balcony. She opened her eyes long enough to see him lifting the weapon for one final smash…
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Red had been saved by a werewolf… but had she? Had she escaped from one predator only to fall victim to another?
For now, at least, it didn't seem so, as the lycan was clearly more focused on Tongue-Eater than her, and Tongue-Eater was not prepared for a fair fight. The werewolf's claws tore into him in a violent display that Red could not look away from.
Tongue-Eater collapsed on the ground. Was he dead? The wolfman bent over his foe, salivating… Then he turned to the Shadowchaser. "Red Feather…" he said.
But the were-baboon was not dead yet. The fiend sprang up and grasped the werewolf by the neck.
"NO!" screamed Red again. Her sword… Could she reach it?
"Red Feather, GO!" shouted the wolfman.
"But…"
"Get out! Open your eyes!"
"My…" she started.
Red Feather's eyes flicked open…
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"Impressive, Sonya."
Sonya was glad she was finally allowed to bathe - with hot water now. But having her arms shackled while Molmo bathed her was still humiliating.
That fight had broken every bone in her body, literally. But she couldn't die here - this was the afterlife, after all.
"If it's any consolation, you did better than most expected. The emperor's bookmakers made a fortune on that round."
Sonya glared daggers at Molmo. As common for dreams, it was hard to describe her, although she seemed to be the same species of demon as Bruks. Humanoid, scaly blue skin, curved, backwards-pointing horns, and long, black hair. She seemed more pleasant, but that long dagger she carried let her know she was not one to be trifled with.
'I know what you are thinking. You want to take the trial now. Patience, young one, going in when you aren't ready will get you crushed like a bug. Consider it this way, when you're down here, you have nothing to lose, but so much to gain."
"And you're being so helpful because…?
Molmo smiled evilly. "We don't care one bit about you, Sonya." She caressed the human's shoulders in what seemed like a dark parody of motherly affection. "Job security and all. If we were to bring a human into the trials who only lasts a few minutes, everyone would be upset! Those psychotic folks in the stands pay good coin to see the petitioners get beaten to a pulp before they're crushed, and we have to give them their money's worth."
"Bread and circuses?" snarled Sonya.
"Call it what you will. But fear not, Bruks and I always keep our word. You will become skilled enough to pass the trial, even if you have to train for centuries to do so. Because once you do, we will return you to your world alive and well, mere seconds after that unfortunate event that sent you here." Then she laughed. "Hopefully, you won't make the same mistake again!"
Sonya's face fell. "I guess it would be asking too much for me to wake up and discover I was dreaming."
Then Molmo truly laughed. Laughed the way Sonya always expected a demon would. She stood over the shackled Shadowchaser with her eyes burning and drew the dagger from her belt.
"Well, if that's truly what you want, little girl…"
Sonya screamed…
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Red Feather didn't scream or lurch upright as she awoke. She was already sitting upright - in a lotus position - and wasn't the type to be scared awake.
A fun fact about the world of Shadow. Never in history has an elven noble or royal been killed by an assassin who struck when the victim was asleep. Sure, a few have tried, but those who were unprepared for a fight would always be caught in the act, their odds of survival proportional to how well they had planned their escape.
Some believe elves are just light sleepers, but in truth, elves don't actually sleep. Their means of rest is something most humans call "trance". One could consider this meditation, and they only require four hours per day. This is a big reason why they are so comfortable at night outdoors. But the biggest difference between trance and sleep is, an elf in trance is not unconscious, they are still aware of their surroundings and can "wake up" and react in an instant should their senses take note of something that might be a threat.
Did they dream? Yes. Their dreams could be very vivid, and they always remembered them. Usually, they were pleasant and invigorating.
Usually. The nightmare had taken her by surprise, and despite being outwardly calm, she was shaken.
She stood up, noticing the shade on the window was down. The moon outside was a crescent, but still shed a great deal of light on Cauldron. No electric lights here to obscure the stars. It was almost pleasant.
She closed the window and noticed something on the desk of her room. The opened envelope held the two gift certificates she had won at the Flood Festival, one from winning the archery contest and the other from the side bet she had made with Alonso, each good for two customers at the Seven Snails Pub. While the former had gotten her dozens of messages from would-be suitors, she still hadn't used them. She didn't know if the pub would honor more than one per customer, but maybe a nice luncheon would be a nice change of pace.
As she closed the window, someone was looking up towards her - a man walking his dog, not something she would take special notice of. A short, stocky man in a long coat, with a hood that covered most of his face other than a sharp chin. He was carrying a notebook.
"Hmm," he muttered. He opened the notebook and wrote something down. After a minute or so, his dog barked twice.
"Good boy," he said, patting the hound affectionately. He placed the notebook inside his coat and went his way.
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"Sister Sonya? Sonya?"
"WHAT?" Sonya woke up to sweat-soaked sheets and to…
"Havan?" she gasped. "You… Why are you awake?"
"It's… 5AM, I'm always awake now."
Sonya breathed a sigh of relief. A nightmare…
"I heard you yelling something in your sleep, are you -"
Sonya went quickly from terrified to curious. She asked, "What did I say?"
"Not sure, I think it was something… something in Japanese."
Now that was weird.
"Uh, I'm okay, Havan, bad dream. I'm fine."
Sonya sat up in bed, watched the grugach leave, and then turned to the book next to her pillow, the manga paperback she had been reading when she fell asleep. Dragon Ball Z Complete, Vol. 1, Chapters 1 -250.
Even my subconscious has a dub editor, she mused. It had been "Hell" it might have been much less embarrassing.
She signed and laid her head down on her pillow. It had been a nightmare, she was alive, and she was spared the burden of earning her right to leave the Home For Infinite Losers. Still, Sonya couldn't shake the feeling she had… sort of scammed her way out, and a small part of her seriously wanted to go back to finish the story.
Maybe if I go back to sleep…
She started to close her eyes again…
Then, however, they snapped open. She held her stomach. It was grumbling. As anxious to finish the "story", she wouldn't do so now. Maybe after she had breakfast.
She had to check one thing first. She sat up, and turned to her dresser…
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The Seven Snails Pub was a place in the southwest part of Cauldron, east of the Temple of Kord and between Magma and Onyx Avenues. Barclay was a regular there, and according to him, the place was known for its casual atmosphere and wide diversity regarding the tastes - and budget - of patrons. Someone who worked at the bakery down the street could come in during the dinner hour and order the baked ziti or Shepherd's pie, while the owner could come in and enjoy breaded macaroni and cheese with lobster.
Fortunately, it seemed the issue of the gift certificates could be resolved quickly. Not all of them could make it; this was the last day of the semester at Colfer, so Francis couldn't exactly cancel, and Hank had plans as well. That left Red, Nichole, Maddie, and Sonya; they met both Barclay and Elizabeth on the way out and after the former told them he had never heard of the manager enforcing a "one per customer" policy, Red invited them too.
Now, however, was the lunch hour, when no less than two-hundred sandwiches were offered; anyone who wanted a grilled cheese had to specify, as had twenty variations of those alone, from simple cheddar with bacon to gorgonzola with spinach. Even better, the common room at the pub had a friendly, cozy atmosphere with a fire in the hearth and pleasant ambiance.
Of course, once they were seated and their orders were placed, Red's explanation of why she had invited everyone, and her description of her nightmare didn't exactly put everyone at ease. Especially when Sonya added hers to the discussion.
"What in the world is this, an epidemic?" exclaimed Maddie.
"I've been hearing that a lot," said Nichole. "Not to name any names, of course, but folks are coming into the confessionals lately about… vivid and explicit nightmares."
"The problem is," said Red Feather, "since I woke up it seems less like a dream and more like a memory…" She stopped to say "Thank you," as the waiter placed her order in front of her. "Like something I should have known for a long time."
"Sort of like déjà vu?
"Actually, it seems exactly like déjà vu, just clearer."
"Well, it -" Nichole stopped as she noticed Sonya, who was tearing into her bacon-turkey sub as if sandwiches were going out of style. "Sonya, slow down, nobody is going to take it away from you."
"Hey, been living on prison gruel for ten years, y'know?" Noticing her comment had gotten the typical reaction to her stories (and that she had said it with her mouth full), she stopped chewing and picked up her beverage.
"Red is right, it was the same with mine. Like a memory that wasn't supposed to be there. Like that roommate I had in college. There was one time she turned into a cavewoman after drinking this beer that had been spiked by some guy using alchemy, and when it wore off, it was like it had opened memories where she was wearing deerskin clothes, pouncing on a gazelle and killing it with her bare hands, and…"
"Uh, Sonya?" said Nichole, interrupting. "Not that I don't believe you here, but wasn't that an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?"
Sonya stopped, then thought for a moment, but didn't answer. She was about to go back to her sandwich, but then she said, "Oh yeah, right, now I remember. I was drinking some factory second orc lager while I was watching a Buffy marathon, and I fell asleep… Uh, yeah."
"Well, the whole city is on edge." Barclay seemed quite a bit more annoyed and irked than he usually was. "Know what this is?"
"Uh, a roast beef cheddar melt on a hard roll?"
"In name only, at least here. The hard rolls here used to be locally made, this is imported. The same sandwich used to have shallots, and now these are just the plain old onions you get from the bin. Prices are going up, so they're trying to lower the quality."
"We have that in the States too, Barclay," said Maddie, "they call it capitalism."
"It's worse than it sounds," said Elizabeth, "look over there." She nudged her head towards a table occupied by two portly old men wearing formal suits.
"Those two are counsels at the City Courts and were regulars at the Ace of Swords. At least three times a week they were there during the lunch hour."
"And now they're here because they're on a budget. I see what you mean."
"The higher tax rates and tariffs that Lamour is imposing are hitting everyone hard," continued Barclay, "and we've yet to see him do anything with the increased revenue other than pay the… thugs who are helping him enforce it. If anything, the crime rate has gotten worse because of them."
Nichole lowered her voice and said, "You say that as if you want us to do something. This isn't exactly our area of expertise."
"Yeah, hordes of restless zombies and evil sorcerers we can deal with," said Sonya, "politics is a whole different story."
"Didn't Francis say something about Lamour asking him to be his PR man or something?"
"Yes, and I've been spending the last week trying to figure out a nice way to say 'no'."
While everyone was happy that he had made it, Francis quickly told them he was only there to place a to-go order and could only stay about ten minutes. He had snuck out of the assembly at Colfer after Professor Haskar was introduced as a guest speaker. Some other students had told him his speeches were so incredibly long and boring that they'd have at least two hours before anyone was even given a chance to ask questions - some believed that's the reason these assemblies were scheduled for this time of the day. And he had valuable news.
"Everyone here will be glad to know there's someone else that has an issue with Lamour. These were posted all over the campus."
He pushed a flier across the table towards Nichole. "Oh brother," she said when she saw a specific name on it.
NOTICE
March 15th
CITIZENS OF CAULDRON!
LET YOUR VOICE BE HEARD!
Come one, come all to Town Hall!
Those in power must learn that we do not welcome their debaucheries!
Their indulgences will be fueled by our hard-earned funds no longer!
Their blatant hypocrisy defies our sacred traditions!
The tax collectors are the lapdogs of their greed.
Let not their deception besmirch our fair city.
Speak your will! Voice your pain!
HELP US RETURN CAULDRON TO HER CHILDREN!
There were four signatures on the bottom, but they only recognized one of the names - Dorisan's.
Barclay shook his head. "The man is persistent, I'll say that much."
He explained further. Dorisan had held three of these rallies so far and had almost managed a fourth. Lamour had been reluctant to ask him - or order him - to stop, but eventually had lost patience and threatened to have him arrested as a rabble-rouser. It seemed he was willing to press his luck.
"The 15th, huh?" asked Sonya. "The Ides of March, hmm, how appropriate."
"Wait, wait, hold on here… 'blatant hypocrisy of our sacred traditions'?" Nichole was confused with that part, as it was among the last things she would accuse the upper class of Cauldron of doing.
"Yeah, I asked someone else about that," said Francis, "something about them refusing to honor the Old Law of Peers. Whatever that is."
Dorisan had already proven to be an impulsive type - and they knew what could happen when a rally veered out of control. On the other hand, Maddie could attest he was both generous and trustworthy - to a point. They had two days before the 15th; maybe it would benefit them to check this out, if only to lend him support.
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After grabbing his take-out order, Francis promised to look into the 'Old Law of Peers' if he could, and by the time the check came, the other Shadowchasers agreed to show up at this rally, hopefully to prevent anyone from doing something stupid.
Hopefully, that wouldn't be any of them.
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And… That is all for now.
The forecast for the weekend claims a storm is coming in, so assuming the power doesn't go out, I might have quite a lot of free time. For everyone reading, I hope you all have a happy and safe 2024.