-Grigut-
To the north, above the southern border of Ohio. A forest burns. Creatures run from the flames in mass, from the smallest of critters to the largest of beasts and monsters. All fear the flame.
Standing in its center, standing amongst a field of burning ash and death, a figure strides forth atop the back a massive canine. Red of skin from head to toe and full of muscle, he raises his club and shield, banging them together as he calls out with a roar, beckoning his forces forward as they chase after the flames, jumping upon any fallen creature they can catch that was too slow to outrun the burning death nipping at their heels. Creatures and monsters alike, left burned and injured by the raging fires. The tide stab into their bodies with small knives and beat them with makeshift clubs and rocks, tearing them apart and eating them as they still breath, as they still fight and struggle for their lives. Many of the tide die in these final deathly struggles, thrown aside by flailing limbs or crushed beneath massive bodies. The tide does not care. The tide does not stop. All will be consumed, even the corpses of the fallen shall not be left behind.
Many hours later the forest lays still and burned, every inhabitant that used to call it home having ran for their lives or been eaten. There is nothing but ash and bones left under the feet of the gathered masses. Their little green bodies filling the area where green trees used to reside and rule. Where life used to be full and vibrant. Ash and ember fall like snow here and covers their green skin. Here, there is only death.
The crowd parts as the figure walks through. Walking forward with his head held high as he towers over all of those around him, like a man amongst children. Behind him follows his loyal mount, a beast of fur and teeth and claw. A beast fit for a king to ride. Atop his head lay a crown of bone, a single horn growing forth from his head and pointing ever forward in defiance.
He is a King, and these are his people.
They cheer as he walks forward, his every step accompanied by the stomping of feet and the banging of weapons. He stops before them and raises his hand, shield held high. Everything stops and there is only silence.
He speaks, not in the words of man and their demon, or of the songs of the colorful fluffy ones. He speaks in his language. The language of his people. The language created by his decree as king.
“My brothers and sisters! Sons and daughters! Listen to me and hear, hear me and know! We are strong!”
He bangs his weapons together. And the others answer. The silence destroyed by their own arms clashing.
“My brothers and sisters! Sons and daughters! We grow!”
He stomps. And the other answer. The very earth shaken by their tiny feet.
“My brothers and sisters! Sons and daughters! We shall have revenge!”
He steps forward. And the others scream their voices bloody.
“My brothers and sisters! Sons and daughters! We. Shall. Become. Demons!”
He spreads his arms, weapons held for all to see, his body of muscle and blood red skin on full display. And the others kneel. Knees bent in honor to their king, but eyes held forward. Always held forward.
He smiles, fangs of sharp yellow teeth on full display as he takes it all in. The destruction, the death, the power, but most importantly, his people.
“My people! Know that today is another day that we yet again grow stronger. Another day that we grow closer to the days of peace. Another day that we get closer to destroying all of our enemies. The day when all who would stand before us will lay dead at our feet and be reduced to ash and bone! The day when there shall only be our people, and the food. The day when we will be free to build our nests and live happy lives without fear of the Demon! For we, shall become the Demon!”
He throws his weapons to the ground and stands with his hands held bare.
“Those who are ready to grow. Those who are ready to become Demons. Step forward!”
At his command, they listen and obey; five figures rise from amongst the masses of thousands. Their bodies compelled forward by his command, their blood boiling with knowing that among the thousands of brothers and sister, sons and daughters, that they are the only ones who are ready. They come forward and stand before their King.
He looks down upon them, standing several heads taller than them and watches as they kneel before him. They face forward, always forward. And he nods with approval.
He examines them and smiles, “My sons. My daughter. I am proud of you.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He raises his hand and bites into his flesh, drawing crimson blood as thousands of eyes watch in revered silence. “Drink my children, drink and become Demons.” He brings his hand to their lips, and they take in his blood until all five have had their share.
He raises his arms, and they rise, “My sons, my daughter. I order you. Grow. Become powerful. Become Demons! And fight for your people!”
Their King speaks, and his people listens and obeys.
Before him, the five begin to grow. They scream as their blood boils within their bodies, as their bones snap and grow and heal, and their fangs and claws grow, harden, and sharpen. As a deeper intelligence is born within their fragile minds, and for the first time in their short lives, they are able to think, to feel and understand, to learn.
They kneel, practically collapsing to their knees, blood pouring from every orifice and steam rising from their bodies. The largest amongst the five coming forward as they all look up to their King. He speaks for his siblings, smiles of sharp fangs running across theirs faces and bloody tears filling their eyes, “Father. King! We Grow! We become Powerful! We become Demons! We Make Father Proud!!!”
Their King smiles, pride filling his chest. “Rise my children, take up your rightful places by my side.”
He speaks, and they obey.
Moving over to his mount, he climbs atop it back and his son hands him his weapons with reverence.
He looks over his people from on high, the kneeling masses of thousands, all looking forward, always forward.
“My people! Today is a day that new demons are born! Rise! Rise my people and see the heights that you have yet to reach. The power that shall one day be yours! Rise my people and take up arms! We shall grow. We shall become powerful! We shall become Demons. And we shall have our REVENGE!”
The masses rise and cheer, being driven into a frenzy with every word spoken, every command given. Voices call out, weapons clang together, feet are stomped, and the Earth shakes from their might.
“Forward my people! We shall gather our scattered tribes! We shall slay our enemies! And we shall eat, their, flesh! Forward!!!”
Their King speaks, and they obey.
The tide moves south, always growing and never stopping.
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-Sky-
Fire, fire everywhere. Trees burning and being reduced to ash. A tide of death pushing ever forward and growing with every step. Getting closer and closer. Everything runs and flees from the fire and death. Creatures, monsters, and people. My people. They run and flee, but so many are cut down. So many fall to the flames. So many are devoured; ripped apart and eaten. Torn with blade and teeth and claw. My people scream. They are running south. To me.
My eyes open and I scream, tears running down my face. Crawling frantically out of my nest, I burst out of my room of treasures that shine in the light of my lantern, and run to the bathroom, throwing open the toilet just as I vomit. My body shakes as I hold the bowel of the toilet, tears streaming down my eyes as I again empty the contents of my stomach.
There is noise outside, I barely register it past the ringing in my ears and the sound of pouring rain outside. The shouting and the knocking on the door doesn’t stop, and eventually they let themselves in, running into my home while yelling for me until they stop at the door to the bathroom to find me sitting there.
“Ma’am, Missus Sky are you alright!? I heard you scream.” Asks the guard, Mr. Lance, as he looks me over.
“I… I will be alright. I apologize for the disturbance, Mr. Lance. Being so late at night.” I tell him as I wipe some nastiness from my lips. I don’t bother trying to stand, my legs are still feeling weak, and my body still shakes.
“Are you feeling unwell? Shall I go to fetch a doctor for you?” He asks, his worry clearly showing through his normal stoicism.
“I will be fine Mr. Lance. I had a vision. It was too much for me; I had never had one before. Only the most powerful of my people's shamans ever have them…” I try to pull myself to my feet and he moves to help me, offering me his hand, which I accept.
He looks a bit apprehensive and skeptical, but he eventually asks, “A vision? Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad dream? I know that you’ve been lonely without Missus Lain here.”
I shake my head, “I know what I saw, and I wish I could just call it a bad dream. Fire and Death shall come from the North. A tide is coming, and they will not be stopped. They will slaughter and consume everything, and what cannot be eaten will be burned away. They are coming for us and my people. I need to speak with your people's leader! Please!”
“I’m sorry, but the General is sleeping... It’s the middle of night. Please Missus Sky, go back to bed and rest. In the morning, I will deliver a request for you to meet with the General. Please, unless you need to see a doctor, please return to bed and rest. We can handle this matter in the morning. No? Besides, it wouldn’t do any good to wake the General and meet him in your sleeping wear.”
He offers me his hand again, and after a moment's consideration, I take it. “You, you're right. It would hardly be right to disturb him in the middle of the night… I can meet with him tomorrow?”
He leads me out of the bathroom and back towards my bedroom, “I will do everything in my power to help ensure that you get that meeting. I promise you. But for now, please, rest. You look exhausted and are hardly in any condition for an important meeting.”
He lets go of my hand as we reach my door and I look to him, “Thank you, Mr. Lance... I will. Thank you for all your help.”
He gives a short bow, “It is my pleasure, Princess. Please, have pleasant dreams.”
I give him a nod and he turns to return to his duty. Slowly, I walk back into my room and shut the door behind me, before returning to my nest, stopping at the side table to look at the necklace gifted to me by Lain. It is resting on its place of honor for the night for when I sleep, waiting to be worn again in the morning. Gently, I stroke the beautiful gems adorning its silver chains and think of Lain. Oh, I wish you would come home soon. I miss you so much…
Eventually, I turn off the lantern and crawl back into my nest of pillows and blankets, closing my eyes as I immerse myself in the scents of me and my lover. I try to think only of her as my mind slowly drifts back to sleep, but I am unable to forget the visions that I saw. Until my mind finally goes to rest, I see it all. The fire, the death. Fields of ash being trampled by tens-of-thousands of feet. And of my people fleeing for their lives. All of them running towards me, guided by instinct to return to the side of their Empress.