04: Flames of Jealousy
The sun ran away quickly, the boy, along with the reason he turned as thin as a twig waited patiently for the tired mother, and the mother finally knocked.
On their table the family of two sat, eating their usual tasteless vegetable soup that the boy loved.
The boy hid his secret well, as well as the smart maw in his torso. Lea was tired from working all day long, so she hastily finished her small bowl and braced herself to hug her boy to sleep which somehow eased her physical pain.
The door knocked furiously. Lea hid the boy under the small bed. The weak wood eventually gave up and the door busted open. Revealing a staggering man reeking of liquor.
A man who openly liked the mother for years, a drunk who intentionally lost the way home to his wife and son. It was Mona’s husband, a jobless man with a severe ale addiction.
“H-h-hey beautiful *hic*, you look a-ammm-a-zing *hic* ttonnight, C-come hheerree” the man staggered to the shocked widow, flailing the hand that wasn’t holding the wooden bottle, trying to grab whatever his dirty paw found on the shaking Lea.
The boy started moving, waving the small sharp bone on the tip of his tail rapidly, but the mother turned her head, gesturing that the boy stays where he was.
The man stumbled on his own foot, trying his best to balance his heavy legs, the man fell, under him, a whimpering widow still refusing to make a scene, still protecting what’s under her bed.
A filthy breath that reeked of alcohol entered her nostrils, tears flowed on her rose burning cheeks, and the boy could watch no more.
“Noa, no” she whimpered but the boy ignored.
The boy moved, tail forward pointing like a dagger, aiming for the neck, knowledge of anatomy still resided in the vast brain of his, the mother begged the man with tears, begged the man to preserve his own life.
“GET UP, AWAY FROM THAT SKUNK YOU FILTHY BASTARD!” a cry that stopped the movement of everyone present in the shack echoed, the boy looked up to see the older woman.
A mole the size of his thumb decorated her large nose, and a lonely, ugly black hair strand sat on top, giving her an impression of the evil witches he once read about.
“GET UP!” The woman grabbed the drunk by the collar, nearly choking him, then dragged him with great strength toward the exit.
“And you, you husband-thieving whore, I will deal with you later, along with that d-demon you’re calling a son” the woman spat and gave the boy a look of disgust before slamming what remained of the door, making it completely crumble.
Lea went back up on her knees, shivering like a wet animal, her eyes tearing like a waterfall.
Her face suddenly hit a warm chest, the maw was considerate enough to seal off completely, and Leaora finally let it go, easing her pain on the boy's beating heart.
That night, loud sobbing could be heard coming out of a small shack in the middle of a small village, the sobs that washed away her sadness.
From the night on, old friends, were not friends anymore.
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Days passed, Lea got better, Noa got thinner.
It was a day the whole village waited for years, it was the only form of festivity this small community had.
The harvest day, a celebration that happened every five years, where the woman covered themselves with cheap, handmade accessories, children wore colorful cloth and the men bathed in ale.
A gesture of kindness from the local slavers, or Barons as the peasants called them, they spent a few scraps of gold to allow their peasants a few hours of joy every five years, celebrating the harvest, sharing stories, and trading their goods for a few coppers.
Leanora made the decision, the boy had to see the world, the boy had to be happy. Her heart was torn for the imprisoned Noa. she saved and saved, and bought a beautiful, colorful gown with a large head cover to keep her boy’s identity a secret, under the excuse that the boy was sick.
Lea truly loved the boy and wanted him happy. The boy, however, didn’t mind anything, he didn’t mind staying home, even if he died from starvation, he fed on her love to him, love of a mother that he never experienced before, but he didn’t mind seeing the world either.
Lea and small collection of the colorful clothes holding her hand walked the muddy streets, their heads turning left and right with beaming smiles, this year’s festival was almost the same as the previous one with the exception of a new guest, a guest Lea never expected to show up in this far corner of the continent.
She saw the holy man in his luxurious white robe with lines made of pure gold, followed by an entire battalion of guards in plate armor.
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Lea held the boy’s hand tighter and turned around to leave, only to see the last person she wanted to meet at this moment, Mona’s man.
“H-hey beaattttffu-. Where you g-goin *hic* ?”
She hastily turned and chose another route, a more crowded one but safer, away from troubles, not aware of a pair of furious eyes, burning under an ugly mole on a large nose.
She finally was away enough to start enjoying the festival with her boy, they joined a circle of people dancing and singing, the boy was happy, the mother was happy, until an ugly, wrinkled hand landed on her shoulder.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from my husband, you fucking whore?”
*SLAP*
The green eyes widened as the hand held the reddening cheeks, the boy hissed in anger, followed by a growl from an unknown source inside him.
“Didn’t I tell you that I will pay you back, along with the demon you're living with?” the poisonous tongue of Mona spat.
“My son is no demon” Lea defended as she wiped her tears, steeling herself and spat back at the old hag.
“Yea? Then what is this?” said Mona as she grabbed the boy and started taking off the happy colors.
“GET YOUR HAND OFF OF HIM” Lea jumped her ex-friend, grabbing her by the hair, both fell down, but the hag finished the job and fell down with the cloth in her hand.
Eyes stared as a pair of curved horns emerged under the deadly silence, which in turn, like the boy’s happiness, did not last long.
“What do we have here” a calm yet imposing voice echoed, everyone made way to reveal a blond man so pale one would think he was made of wax.
The man approached, looked down the boy, and smiled.
“Demon you say, interesting” the man calmly stated as he made a finger gesture, a second later a guard was holding the screaming boy looking at his mother kissing the inquisitors feet, begging him to believe that his body is a mere birth defection.
The guard stripped the boy clean, and the maw was smart enough to keep shut, but it was in vain.
“Horns and a tail, if that’s not a demon then what?” the inquisitor joyfully spoke before kicking the peasant dirtying his shiny boot with her muddy tears.
The pale inquisitor cried with a mad laugh. Then his face changed quickly as it twisted.
“DEAREST VILLAGERS, DO YOU! BY ANY CHANCE! ALSO, THINK THAT THIS BOY IS NOT A SPAWN OF HELL?” his eye widened unnaturally, his irises diluted, giving him a look that made some of the present children run to their mothers crying.
“No”
“Demon”
“Kill the demon”
“Save us, great lord”
The man’s face returned to normal, he looked down the weeping woman under his feet then at the so called, demon, then at the surrounding peasants.
“The night is nigh! Don’t you all think it is a bit cold here? Why don’t we have a … little heat”
“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” the crowd cheered, not minding some tiny action in their dull lives.
The boy’s heart sank to his legs and started beating like a broken pendulum.
On a wooden stake, a naked woman was tied, hands behind a fair piece of pine, tied to her was a small demon, his tail swiping furiously, try to cut anyone who entered its premises
The woman’s face was swollen blue from the hard beating she just received, her tear ducts stopped working a while ago, her eyes locked to the demon tied to her chest with a look of pure sorrow.
Men and women looked in awe as the demon kept screaming and wiggling, the inquisitor watching with a mad gleam in his eyes.
Then the wax man nodded, and suddenly… warmth.
The mother and child were surrounded by fire, the boy looked down and saw the flames open its mouth and eat his dazed mother’s feet.
And the flames went up
Then the boy grimaced
Then the fire was at her waist
Then the woman went conscious
Then the fire went up
Then the woman looked her son in the eyes
“I’m sorry Noa, I love you, my baby”
Then the fire went up
Then the boy looked at his mother in the eyes
“I love you too mom”
Then the boy hugged her tight, he didn;t know what to do, after all, the boy was just, a boy
Then her tears fell on the boy’s face
Then the fire went up
Then her soul left the charred body
Then for the first time in the boy’s life, in fact, in both his lives, The boy shed tears, he cried from the bottom of his soul.
The boy's heart died
The boy’s soul tainted
The boy’s light perished
The boy’s innocence, again, was lost for a last and final time.
The boy expected to open his eyes to the stylish devil, but all he got was a voice ringing in his head
“The fires likes, the fires wrong you no more, for you are now a friend of the fires”
And the boy's vision went dark
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The moon wiped its tears and went to bed, and the shy sun slowly knocked on the world’s door.
In the large black patch in the middle of the village, from under the ashes, a hand emerged, the black burnt skin covering the untouched meat.
A black figure silently stood up monotonously, looking down beneath its feet.
The figure moved a few steps beside the ashes, up to a guard who lost his battle with ale, a small hand of black and red reached out for the guard’s coin pouch, alerting the sleeping man. The guard’s eyes shot open, only to lose its light as a sharp bone installed itself inside the guard’s throat.
A boy with charcoal skin stood up from a crouching position, cleaning the blood on his tail with a quick lash to the air.
The boy emptied the already empty pouch, and walked back to the black patch and bent down, collecting ashes in his newly acclaimed pouch, ashes, of his last love.
The sun finally had permission drop the first of its rays on the land, as the shaking forest welcomed its newcomer with fear.
On that day, the boy died again, and a true monster was born, a monster that eventually engulfed the entire world in fire, all for the sake of one dead peasant widow in some remote village.