Thraxx awoke, his senses slowly creeping back to life in Gerard’s frail form. The choking taste of smoke clung to the back of his throat—disgusting. But, he supposed, a necessary consequence for the ritual to be sufficiently theatric. He cleared his throat and spat.

Thraxx stood. His situation was truly distasteful. A ring of bodies lay before him, broken and bloodied, and the house around him was burnt beyond repair, with an open roof letting in the morning light. He was filthy and poorly rested. The cold was uncomfortable, almost as detestable as the heat he’d come from. Leaving his body in a state like this, that bastard child truly had no manners.

Ah well, he was already in the process of getting his comeuppance.

Thraxx grabbed the split tome from the floor and stepped over the threshold of the burnt home, shivering involuntarily—surely from the cold, an involuntary impulse tied to this mortal body. The skeletal remains of a village jutted out of the snow like the charred bones of a great beast. Nothing he wasn’t used to, of course, but a reminder that his new mortal brethren may not be so different from his old demonic kin.

He shivered once more. A nice confirmation that it truly was just cold. Thraxx held his hand before him, focusing, willing a roaring flame to burst forth from his palm. A weak orange glow flickered to life, ember motes drifting feebly into the wind. He tried again, with the same result.

Perhaps it was this new form. But no—magic was shaped by the soul, not the body. That couldn’t be the reason. The kid had stuttered something about magic fading. Yet another vexation.

“You there!”

A voice rang through the torn village. Thraxx looked over, spotting a man on horseback approaching, his mount’s footsteps cushioned by the silence of snow. The rider cantered over.

“Boy, are you alright? Are there any more survivors?”

Thraxx eyed him suspiciously. The man was dressed clean, dressed in well-made clothes and tightly groomed.

“It’s only me, “ the voice that came from Thraxx’s throat felt alien, weak. He focused on speaking from deeper in his chest. “The others were slaughtered, one after another, like cattle. It was marauders traveling westwards, the village was defenseless. I was out hunting, checking traps. By the time I came back it was too late. I tried to tend to the wounded, but by nightfall, they had all passed,” he lied.

“How terrible it is to have witnessed. You need not put on a brave face before me, boy. Let your tears flow freely.” The man extended a hand down from his horse. “Come on boy, let us go find you a hot meal. You’ve been through enough.”

Thraxx took it and clambered onto the back of the horse, clutching the book tightly, careful to hide the etchings on the cover. “Thank you kindly. I was truly without hope. What brought you here?”

“A scouting mission. I’ve been tasked with finding the current boundaries of magic, a service to my city—an honor, truly.

I confirmed the boundary three days ago and have been headed back since. I suspect the last traces of magic will be gone from here within the year.”

“Which city is that,” Thraxx said.

“Kaeyr, the greatest city this world has seen. Magic is still vibrant, more so than ever. The nobles live on floating islands and even the poor live a life of abundance.”

“Sounds an interesting place,” Thraxx murmured. The tall tales failed to pierce his natural cynicism. He supposed they were platitudes meant to distract a distraught boy.

As the horse trotted through the snow-covered remains of the village, Thraxx allowed himself to relax a little, learning into the warmth of the noble’s back and listening to him wax poetic about Kaeyr. The human body’s instincts were amusingly simple—cold, thirst, hunger—not the same rapturous hunger for souls demons often felt, something more cloying and incessant, which now demanded his attention.

“I must say, it’s quite a stroke of luck I found you,” said the noble. “Had I come by a day later, you might have been buried under snow.

“Luck indeed,” Thraxx murmured.

The ride continued onwards, Thraxx feeling weaker as the hours crept on. Not only had Gerard started him off in his wretched place, he’d also given a body hungry and exhausted from hours of struggle.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

By midday, the snow had stopped and the pair arrived before a simple wooden inn, sitting quaintly beside the snowed-over path. Only the desperate would choose such a building to shelter in. Thraxx suspected the noble would never stop at such a place by choice, but in this moment, Thraxx was truly desperate.

They dismounted, the noble tethering the horse to a post outside. “Come now boy, let’s get you inside. There’s warmth and food, you could surely need it.”

Was that pity? Thraxx felt disgusted. To be pitied, how vile. Perhaps he should trick the noble into giving his soul away as well. Proper recompense for such detestable sympathy.

But Thraxx was tired. He said nothing, taking the nobles help to dismount, and followed him inside.

The inside of the inn was basic but comfortable. The fire in the hearth projected heat that Thraxx felt awful to be appreciative of considering the heat he’d come from. The inn stank of stew, an eternal medley of root vegetables and salted meat that never left the pot, which by the rumbling of his stomach, Thraxx’s new body clearly yearned for.

“Have a seat by the fire,” the noble said, guiding Thraxx to a chair near the hearth. “I’ll speak with the innkeeper.”

Thraxx sat.

Good. It was natural for him to be served. Let his underlings talk to the commoners.

The noble returned a moment later, taking a seat across from Thraxx. “They’ll bring some stew in a moment. It’s not much, but it’ll warm you up.”

The noble was clearly proud of his benevolence. He seemed desperate to project an air of nobility and justness. Maybe it was exploitable, this need for validation. Perhaps he was of a lesser house. In fact that was surely it being sent to such a far flung corner of the world with no entourage. Thraxx made the decision to withhold thanks.

When the stew arrived, steaming and fragrant, Thraxx dropped his pretenses. He savagely shoveled carrots and potatoes down his throat as quickly as possible, slurping the stew’s liquid with no abandon.

A second bowl soon shared the same fate as the first.

“This city you mentioned, Kaeyr, it sounds wondrous,” Thraxx started.

“It is,” replied the noble. “I am blessed to hail from such a fine land.”

“Are all its people as just as you are?” asked Thraxx.

“The people are kind and fair. But in all places, surely you know, there are those with dark hearts and those with light.”

“What do you mean? What sort of darkness?”

“Well… thieves, criminals, wretched addicts. Many it’s not their fault. But no place has perfection, that’s for the Gods alone. Kaeyr is better than any place else, that I can assure you.”

“Sounds a good place to start a life when one has nothing left,” Thraxx looked at the noble expectedly.

“I can think of no better. I…” the noble caught himself as he looked at Thraxx’s pleading face. He steeled himself and resigned to his duty, “Perhaps, if you’re willing, you could join my journey back and witness its wonder yourself.”

Thraxx hesitated, just long enough for the noble to believe that he was considering the offer. In truth, there was no hesitation. Food, shelter, knowledge, all out of some naive noblesse oblige - he’d be a fool not to take it. Whether he got to Kaeyr or not made no difference.

“I don’t want to impose,” Thraxx said quietly, his voice tinged with reluctance. “You’ve already done so much for me. But… if you truly think it would help…”

The noble’s expression softened, his pride swelling at the thought of being a savior. “Nonsense. It would be my honor to escort you to Kaeyr. Besides, I could use the company on the road. Traveling alone is a lonely business, and you seem like a bright young man. I’d be glad to have you along.”

“Thank you,” he finally said, trying to disguise the smug smirk threatening to emerge from his face.

The noble smiled a kind smile. “Think nothing of it. We’ll set out on the morrow, for now we can get you some rest.”

The noble patted him on the shoulder and left to speak to the innkeeper to get them rooms.

Thraxx soon found himself upon a straw mattress staring at a wooden ceiling. Orange motes drifted from his outstretched hand as he pulsed magic again and again. It was stronger than before, maybe he could spark tinder, but still laughably weak. How in the hells was the boy able to summon him?

He stared at the split tome, pledging to begin studying it tomorrow.

Sleep caught up to him quickly, a sensation he hadn’t felt in millenia, before his memory even began. Yet he slept soundly through the night until he woke up burning.