Sadrahan soared above his small settlement, but had eyes only for what he left behind, what lay ahead of him was nothing compared to that. His eyes and ears were locked on Liln, ensuring that she returned Lamashi to safety before all else. Only when she was out of sight did he look ahead, and only when he heard her calling out for the others…

“To the wall!”

“To the wall!”

‘We’ve relied on our claws too much… even for all our strength and being taller than humans, their bows can bring us down, their spears can pierce skin, their swords and scythes cut flesh and wings… as soon as we can, we need to arm ourselves.’ Sadrahan reflected on that with a weary, even exhausted mind, the list of things to be done seemed without end. ‘So much to do, and we don’t have enough to do it all, and even if we did we don’t have the resources to do it!’ Now some unknown that may or may not have been a threat was closing fast.

He flapped his wings all the harder and looked below and behind him, the wall was incomplete, it could easily be circled, and there wasn’t yet a way to stand atop it to fight, but as a temporary measure large rocks that could be stood upon had been moved into place, allowing those who were able to fight, ‘something’ to fight from.

Sadrahan’s pulse raced like a river in flood, his wings were spread to their limit to offer any edge in intimidation that he might need, his darting eyes sought any advantage he could use against a potential enemy, but all he had was the mountain range itself. The high cliffs and steep lines were not without their paths, and many a loose stone could be easily picked up and thrown, ‘But how many are there, what do they have with them? What are they capable of? If only I knew they were coming I could have prepared something… scouts, a warning system, yet more things we need but do not have the way to create or maintain!’

In any other circumstances he might have chosen the path of ambush and cunning, but with so little time? ‘There’s nothing for it but to confront them, maybe I can retreat up the mountain side if I have to, but perhaps violence isn’t the best option yet. Maybe I can talk?’ That sounded enticing enough, Ita Mal came back to mind, talking to that human had value.

At least some.

Sadrahan began his descent, gliding slow and steady down toward the ground, and the dots became shapes, and the shapes…

‘Demons?’ He asked himself while elation soared through his heart like he soared through the air, a giant, almost boyish grin spread over his face. It wasn’t the end of all danger, but it was much less likely to be a threat than anything else.

“Hail!” He shouted, and watched the array of different demons turn their eyes toward him. Goat demons with long furry faces, bare torsos and goat legs walked beside hyena demons who had perpetually open mouths, dog legs and thick arms and large teeth. When Sadrahan shouted at them it was the hyena demons who were the first to start their excited yelping.

Their numbers became clearer as well, ‘At least fifty, mostly hyena, goat, and ‘humanish’ like me…’ Sadrahan swallowed the lump in his throat, female and male walked beside one another in ranks of two, becoming three only when there were small children, more than that, everyone from the elderly to those barely old enough to carry more than their own body weight carried packs on their backs.

At the far rear of the column there were three wagons that appeared virtually new, if somewhat crude, each of which were pulled by two particularly large hyena demons, they were leaning in the direction of their pull, and on those wagons sat not only a handful of pregnant women, but piles and piles of goods. Barrels full of tools, sacks full of grain and even containers full of dried meat.

Sadrahan’s descent carried him down in front of the mobile village by fifty paces, his arms lowered and his palms remained open and turned away, his wings folded into his back, his feet shoulder width apart, he then waited in silence. ‘If their traditions are like ours, the chief should come shortly.’ He told himself with a hopeful eye and a cautious optimism.

He didn’t wait long, it was two figures who approached, their palms facing away and arms down at their sides. Sadrahan recognized neither of the pair by name, but once they were close, the same was not true in reverse.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Savior!” The young female demon cried out and raced over to him, her feet tore up the hardscrabble ground and created a thick cloud of dust at her back that concealed her from the others for a moment. She cast herself toward him and buried her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing with more strength than he expected given her slender arms.

“I-” Sadrahan closed his mouth before he could say anything foolish.

She released her hold and looked up at him, her coal black eyes staring into his red, she clapped her hands against his thick biceps, “I knew you would come back alive! Sarthas told me to trust in that! Liln did too, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried!”

That clinched it. ‘She must have been one of the first rescues, no wonder I don’t remember her.’ He thought, but rather than give away the obvious, he put his hands on her shoulders and said, “You look different from the last time I saw you.”

No matter what, it would certainly be the truth, ‘Everyone I found was either half starved, or injured, or worse… both. I can’t go wrong with that!’ Sadrahan told himself, and the red demoness took a step back and spun on the ball of her right foot. Looking at her closer, she was a slender, even sylvan shape with small breasts and a sharp angled jaw. Her ink dark eyes were contrasted with unusual snow white hair that was rare outside of those who were of very great age.

“I’ve had a few meals since then. I lost these forever,” she said and tapped her claws behind her back, briefly giving a longing look up toward the endless sky, “but I’ve got my life, and I’ve got a mate.”

It was then that an elder demon, not much older than she, but by his more reserved bearing, at least a few years were had over her, approached. He had a hyena’s head and lolling tongue, intelligent bright yellow eyes and at his back, he proved he was not good at restraining his emotions… his tail wagged like a joyful dog at the antics of his wife.

“Zorahen. Village chief. You saved my wife before she was mine. I am grateful. I come out of gratitude, and give the trust of my village to the one to save her life.” He thrust out his hand and Sadrahan reached out and closed his hand around the male’s forearm.

Their claws dug into one another’s flesh, their grips like steel, flesh compressed beneath sharp points and threatening to draw blood, their eyes locked. Sadrahan looked down as the hyena demon looked up, like most of his variety, the hyena demon had a stoop to his movement that made Sadrahan tower over him like a giant. But there was strength in the clasping grip… until it relaxed.

“Have you come far?” Sadrahan asked, “How long were you traveling?”

“The passing of a single moon. No more.” Zorahen replied with a dismissive wave, “The hunting was good and the young reveled in seeing what hasn’t been seen before. The old had struggles, but we built carts to carry them when their bodies couldn’t manage.”

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect anyone to hear my call, I thought all those I sent would come back alone.” Sadrahan admitted and looked past the hyena demon, even beyond the line that made up the traveling village, on to the far horizon. ‘Will this be the only one?’ He wondered, it was already more than he hoped for, but still less than he needed.

“When my mate came to my village, we did not want to hear.” Zorahen admitted, his eyes looked shamefully down at the ground until drawn up when the demoness put her arm around his back, a hand beneath his jaw, and forced him to look up.

“When she stripped herself to the waist and showed us the scars on her back and spoke of the scythes and swords of men, and proved to us that her wings were taken, we did not want to see. She was hidden to us, we were blind in our ignorance.” A rumble of reluctant acknowledgement went up behind Zorahen while he spoke, and from the shameful, downcast eyes of the village, Sadrahan quickly concluded that this was no easy thing to speak of.

“It was not until-” He stopped, he tried to speak, but small tremors ran up and down his body.

“My dear.” The demoness said and looking soulfully at the hyena demon for a moment, she swiftly took control and looked sideways up to Sadrahan. “I took them to a burned village, to my village. My home… burned. Our corpses, left where they fell, bones, mostly, just naked, dishonored corpses, they stripped away not just the wings, but every scrap of cloth. They left nothing, not even dignity. And by luck, we saw humans. We saw them in the distance, coming with tools, knowing what they would find, ready to take our land and make it theirs.”

“Then we saw.” Zorahen acknowledged, “Then we believed. We wouldn’t hear the warnings of a merchant, we wouldn’t see the warnings of your messenger, but when she bared the shame of her village and her body’s marks alike… then, we believed. She said a great and mighty demon was calling all to him, and that we could no longer live as we had. It was hard, but we couldn’t unhear what we heard nor unsee what we saw.”

He clapped his hands together, his claws clicking and flesh slapping in finality, “Now we are here. You called for us, chief of chiefs. What do we do now that we answer you?”

Sadrahan turned on his heel and pointed toward the wall where a line of demon heads stood looking out expectantly. “You follow me.” He said.