Deviation Actions
Description
~The Broken Warrior~
Damion walked into the kitchen, seeing the little oddity and Sophie as she placed a crown of Daisy’s upon the child’s head as she wore her own crown of flowers. The sound of bubbling laughter filled Damion’s ears as he took in the unusual yet pleasant sight. He almost hated interrupting their peace when Sophie looked up at him, the child instantly freezing up in his presents. Sophie walked up to him with a gentle smile, taking his hand as she guided him to the stool next to the child’s. He watched as Sophie began breaking eggs in preparation for making an omelet.
“Did you eat?” He question, as he tried to ignore the burning of his churning stomach when watching her fix him an omelet the way he like it, the scent of egg yolk hitting the hot skillet as she layered it with toppings. The dog was a nice distraction as Ruby entered the kitchen, sniffing the air before laying her head against Damion's thigh. Her eyes becoming rounded as a claw hand stroked her head-- undoubtedly hoping he'll 'drop' a scrap or two of his breakfast on the floor when he received his plate.
“Not too long ago.” She added chopped mushrooms to the pan, “Yours will be done in just a few minutes.” She quickly filled the coffee pot to start a fresh brew. Damion’s chest always warmed at her gestures of kindness and consideration for him.
Seconds ticked by before Damion’s curiosity got the better of him, his eyes glancing to his right to study the white demon. He had never seen an oddity before, or that it was possible for one to be physically so young. Were all of them so young like her? How many were their? He had heard legends about their palled enemies, but began to doubt the stories. His staring must of upset her though as she reached for the table knife in a nervous grip. Her coral eyes staring right back at him, like an animal waiting for the attack.
From what he could read from her body language this child, like Sophie, had learned hardship. He did not move, as he tried to ease the child. “I will not harm you little one. You have no reason to fear me.”
Her milky lips thinned, trying to decide if this soul collector was different like her guardian, or like the others that hunted her. Just then, a warm hand caressed her tense shoulders. She turned to see that it was the kind human, before she spoke softly to her. “You can trust him sweetie. He won’t hurt you.” Though the child barely new this mortal, there was something about her that made you want to trust.
To, want to let your guard down.
The child released the breath she was holding, loosening her hold on the silverware, before returning to the basket of flowers to work on another crown. A blush dusting her cheeks when Sophie brushed her hair with her fingers before returning to the cooking pan.
When Sophie had finished cooking the omelet, sliding it onto Damion’s plate, she gave him a tender kiss upon his brow before placing the silverware next to his plate. It took everything he had not to devour it like an animal, and instead reached for his table knife and fork silver. Each bite more difficult than the last to eat it slowly, less he make himself sick. He nodded his gratitude when she placed a hot cup of black coffee next to him.
Sophie reached for an orange in the wooden fruit bowl, slowly peeling its shield away to reveal the treat beneath. She glanced from the child to Damion, seeing the differences yet similarities between the demons. “Can I ask you something?” She questioned before placing a juicy segment between her lips. When Damion paused in his eating, giving her his full attention, she continued. “Why did the other demon’s attack her? And what exactly is an oddity?”
Damion straightened in his seat, before taking a swig of his coffee to wash down his breakfast. “Long ago, before I was reborn a soul collector, there has been an order from the dark lord. That if we ever encounter demon’s much like ourselves but with skin fair as snow we were to eliminate them on sight. They were given the name ‘Oddity’ for they remain a mystery to us.”
She became appalled. “That’s terrible! What did they ever do to the dark lord to deserve annihilation?” Before Damion could answer, another interrupted.
“Hmm something smells good in here.” It was the cowboy collector, as he walked in with that western charm that could swoon any woman. However what caught Sophie’s attention was the firm hold the gaucho had on the scruff of Rook’s hoodie.
‘What did you do this time brother?’
She quickly hid her discomfort with a smile. “Would you like me to fix you an omelet good sir?”
The gaucho took his hat off, showing off a head of soft wavy hair, before placing his hat over his chest in a gentlemanly manner while releasing the boy. “No ma’am, but I hope it’s not too much trouble for a cup of coffee.”
“It's no trouble at all,” she chirped. After pouring a steaming cup, and presenting it to the cowboy, Sophie noticed the injury on his arm from earlier. “Will you be alright?”
The gaucho actually looked bashful while putting his hat back on and taking the mug from her. “Oh this ain’t nothing to worry about.” As he took a drink, his free hand quickly caught the back of Rook’s hoodie again to prevent escape. Yet he carried on the conversation, “To answer your question, there is a legend the dark lord believes is involved with the oddities.”
Her eyes rounded at the sound of a story coming. “Really?” She ignored her brother’s pleading stare while leaning against the breakfast bar, continuing to eat the slivers of orange while sharing her fruit with the albino child, Damion listening intently as well.
Looking down at his mug, “The legend says that a being that possesses the powers of light and darkness will rise up and over throw the dark lord; reining complete control over the soul collectors as their new lord and master.”
Sophie glanced at the little oddity. She had to admit there was an air of angelicness around the pearly white demon. “So the dark lord believes oddities harbor both light and dark in them?”
“He doesn’t believe it. He knows it.” The gaucho looked down at his little ward; the affection and protective instincts a devoted father would have were clear to any who looked into his citrus eyes. “I’ve seen what she can do…that’s why I protect her, even from my own kind.”
Now Sophie was really curious. “How did you come across her?”
His eyes seemed to light up from the memory, a chuckle escaping his lips. “More like this little scamp came across me.” The little oddity bowed her head, a blush brightening the tip of her ears. He rubbed his chin in thought, trying to calculate the time when his life had changed forever.
“Let’s see…I was a 137 years old when I surpassed my mentor, which allowed me to come and live here on the surface…Ah now I remember. It was 32 years later when I became 169 years old; unfortunately I was still a “stick in the mud” at the time. I was riding through the dessert, looking over several towns that were just beginning to thrive in the west. Then, one day when I went to buy supplies in one of the towns, I overheard cowboys that came from across the terrain, herding their cattle, saying that they caught glimpses of what looked to be a white demon trailing them—saying how their food would be stolen right from under their nose if they dare fell asleep, amongst other mysteries that remained unsolved for the cowboys.”
Damion could see the clues pilling up. “You believed it to be an oddity.”
“Too right. I tagged behind the next cattle drive, keeping my distance and watched for any signs for the demon to show up.” He gave his ward a sly smile. “But, I underestimated the little food thief, as I found my own roasts over the camp fire would be missing every time I kept my attention on the human’s camp instead of my own…Well you can imagine my frustrations and hunger after I was robbed a third night in a row.” He moved his hands, as he attempted to illustrate the next part of his story. “By the fourth night, I set a trap using the old faithful, snare rope as my ploy. I set in position, lying in my hot roll to trick the creature into thinking I dozed off. It didn’t take long—a snap of a branch set off the trap and I caught the little thief.”
The gaucho paused in his story. Sophie could have sworn she saw a shadow of guilt in his eyes before it vanished, and he continued, “I set my sights on the white blur that tried to escape in vain as the rope kept it from escaping, dodging my bullets before ducking under a patch of tumble weed. I slowly approached the brush, before yanking the rope to pull the oddity out, my pistol cocked and ready, intending to follow my orders…and then…”
Sophie’s heart was pounding hard behind her breast, her hands trembling slightly at the intense moment. “And then?”
“I saw the roundest pinkest eyes I’ve ever seen staring up at me. I can’t explain the feeling I felt at that moment, as I saw not a deadly demon but instead a trembling, hungry child wearing scraps of clothing, her hair full of tangles. I knew she was an oddity by her stark white skin, her little horns and the undeniable power that she kept tightly wrapped around her, but I still couldn’t pull the trigger. Never, in my life have I ever disobeyed an order…yet…I’ll never forget how helpless she looked, curled up in a ball, her watery eyes begged me for mercy. I found myself lowering my gun, and reached for my dagger hidden in my boot instead. Poor thing thought I was going to cut her throat and began kicking and scratching at me. I had to hold her down to keep her still, but that got me bit on my arm. Hard, I might add.” The child ducked her head further.
He lifted his left arm to show the underneath, and there it was: an oval shaped scar with four indents where fangs had been. “Little runt wouldn’t let go, so I tried to calm her down quickly, cutting the rope from her ankle and tossing my weapons aside, and remained still. Eventually she let go, crawling back out of my reach and we just stared at each other, the little thing was trembling worse than a leaf in a storm. Instead of trying to understand my actions I got up and gathered my belongings instead, riding off leaving only the campfire, my dagger, and the cooking roast thinking that was the last our paths would cross. However—” the gaucho ruffled the child’s hair mindful of the crown of daisy’s she wore, “—the runt was worse than fleas on a dog and tagged along. No matter what I couldn’t shake her and somewhere along the way she grew on me. We’ve been on many adventures ever since; she’s even saved my life a few times.”
Sophie smiled for the odd but undeniably adorable pair. “That’s amazing. How old is she?”
“We’ve been inseparable for fifty years now since that cold night in May, but I don’t know exactly how old she is.” He laughed at the look of Sophie’s face, her mouth forming an ‘o’ completely stunned that this small demon-child was older than her. “And I’ll be reaching my 219th year soon. Amazing how time flies by when you’re immortal.”
The little demon stood up on the stool, presenting her guardian with the flower crown she made. The gaucho lifted it up to his nose to inhale the sweet scent before giving the crown back to her. “That’s mighty sweet of you darling, but males don’t wear flowers.” The pout she gave him nearly broke his resolve. “—But you know who would look really perty in it?” It was adorable watching the child’s face light up, a look of plea shining in her eyes for permission. The demon glanced Sophie’s way, “I believe my ward wants to introduce you to her friends outside.”
“Oh! They can come in from the cold if they want—”
The cowboy chuckled good heartedly for her consideration, “I’m afraid they’re too big to come inside, and I wouldn’t wanna make your nice home smell like a barn.”
The child grabbed two crisped red apples from her basket, hopping from the stool before eagerly tugging Sophie’s hand to follow; the human giggled at the enthusiastic demon-child. She glanced at Damion who with a tilt of his head encouraged her to go. He knew how much she enjoyed animals and children, knowing she couldn’t resist he gave her his permission. Unable to deny the white child’s request Sophie followed behind her out of the kitchen; the Doberman trailing right behind them.
The cowboy’s parental instincts piped in as he quickly spoke, “I’ll be out there in a few minutes, darling. And don’t forget your boots this time!” He sat in the empty stool, the rookie still in his grasp as he turned to face Damion with that calm smile on his face. “You and I have a different issue to talk about, and our time is running short.”
Damion sent a glare at Rook, who had a look of guilt and panic on his face. He knew something was up the moment the gaucho literally dragged his student in the kitchen, but refused to make a scene and worry Sophie. Eyes narrowing the mentor accused his apprentice, “What did you do this time?”
Instead of letting Rook try and talk his way out the gaucho linked their minds for a more private meeting between the demon trio.
‘Your student here bit off more than I think he can chew.’
‘Holy shit! What the fuck are you doing in my head?!’ Rook frantically cursed, nearly jumping from the invasion of his mind.
The boy’s internal shouting had the older demon cringing from the harsh echo, the gaucho gripping the boy’s hoodie more tightly instead of socking him on the shoulder for his head ache.
Blood trickled from the cowboy’s nose before it was quickly wiped on his sleeve, ‘for god sake’s boy, us your indoor voice!’
‘Why did you link our minds?’ Damion internally questioned.
‘The walls currently have ears, and this is the next best solution. Wouldn’t want them to hear what I got to say…Like that your student just took your place to challenge your teacher.’
Fuming, Damion yelled at Rook forgetting to keep their conversation telepathically, “You did what?!” When he didn’t answer him, Damion shot up from his seat, yanking Rook by the front of his hoodie, leering over him. “Are you insane?! My teacher has had training for over five centuries! Five! You’ve only had two months at the most, and have yet to defeat me! What the hell makes you think—!” Damion gasped in pain when the little shit sucker punched his bruised ribs, making him release his hold and staggered back to cover his side.
Rook, hunching his shoulders said, “That! Right there! Is why I’m doing this old man! If I can hurt you with a cheap shot like that, you don’t stand a chance against the old goat in your condition!”
Damion was about ready to show the prick just how ‘weak’ he was, when he was interrupted by a cough in the background by their forgotten guest. The gaucho’s brow was twitching irritably for being ignored.
‘As I was saying… it would be wise to strap some armor on the boys chest—wouldn’t want to damage that precious organ when he just got it back.’ When both demons’ eyebrows shot up at him, he snorted saying, ‘Oh don’t be so surprised. I have the ability to read minds, remember? When I first came upon the boy I searched his mind, and found some interesting information.’ His gaze locked with Rook’s. ‘For instance you go by another name…Oliver.’
Rook began to panic; his secret was in the hands of a stranger, which he had no idea what he would or could do with that kind of information. The thought of someone rummaging through his head—his personal memories, really got under his skin. ‘Get the fuck out of my head, you bastard!’
‘Watch your language little brother. My advice to you: If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging. And I’m trying to get you out of the hole. I’m not your enemy Rook—why do you think I’m using telepathy to tell you all this? So the others don’t find out about your secret and drag you back to hell and break you…You made the old timer promise if you win this fight that he had to keep quiet about my little oddity. For that I thank you, and I’m seeing to it that you keep your word and win this fight.’
‘Do you really think Rook can defeat him?’ Damion asked.
The cowboy sent a smirk his way, ‘who knows~…You defeated the old timer in half the time…maybe your student will surprise you. Just have a little faith in him, and let him try. There’s a saying: If you get thrown from a horse, you have to get up and get back on, unless you landed on a cactus; then you have to roll around and scream in pain.’ He laughed out loud at one of his ridiculous quotes, though Damion and Rook didn't see the humor in the gaucho's strange sense of humor.
“Well,” the gaucho said while breaking the connection, “I’m gonna go get some air." 'Remember my advice about the chest plate.'
"… and Rook,” He held his hand out to him, Rook taking his hand attentively, “good luck. You’ll need it.”
The gaucho strolled back to the living room towards the coat rack that held his thick leather jacket, slipping it on before he braved the blistering cold outside. However the image that greeted him brought a smirk to his face, seeing his little oddity showing Miss Sophie his black stallion and her white mule that were covered in thick wool blankets.
It still felt like it was yesterday, when he strolled into one of the small towns, his little companion resting on top of his shoulders as she wore his hat to shield her from the blistering heat. His old mare had died, and they were in need of another horse. He ended up buying a wild bronco that the stockman named, Ace, for the mark on its head, saying that horse was one of his finest steeds but no one could tame the wild stallion…The gaucho always loved a challenge, and after that long and thrilling ride over dominance with the bronco, he had earned himself a fine horse. When he had his horse saddled and ready to go, he noticed his ward take interest in a pretty white mule that had gotten the name, Little Bit. He decided then that his ward had earned herself a mount, and had purchased the perty equine double what it was worth including riding gear. He still remembered the joy on his child's face when he told her, Little Bit was hers.
‘There’s nothing better for a soul than being outside on a Horse.’
He was brought out of his daydreaming when something caught his eye. A scowl marking his face when he saw his kid without her boots…again, yet the cold didn’t seem to faze her. If anything she seemed to like the colder climate compared to the scolding dessert terrain. His adopted child sat nestled on her white mare, the animal wearing the crown of daisies that hung from its one long ear. The child stoked its Mohawk of a mane while the alluring young lady fed his steed a crimson apple, and stroked the gigantic beast’s soft muzzle, while her Doberman sat right by her feet.
He walked over to them, with only the sound of crunching footsteps upon the snow to alert the mortal of his presents. When she turned his way, she smiled kindly at him, “Their absolutely beautiful,” she praised, moving her hand to stroke the mustang’s thick neck muscles. “But why does a soul collector need a horse?”
The gaucho absent-mindedly stroked the Little Bit’s neck when she wouldn’t stop nudging and nipping his arm to get his attention. “Besides good companionship, they carry us around during the day so that we don’t look conspicuous. It’s also a great energy saver riding them instead of draining our powers, especially across the long terrain with all of our belongings.”
That last part caught Sophie’s attention. “Your homeless?!”
A puff of fog escaped his lips when he smiled at her, “More like travelers. We sleep under the stars every night, and go where we please. I protect the travelers and small towns of the land. Since there’s little population where I’m from there’s less soul eaters—their more attracted to growing places like here.”
Sophie hummed in thought as she continued to stroke the gorgeous mustang. It’s coat was black as night yet soft as velvet, with an upside down heart on its head, but it was its deep red eyes that drew Sophie closer…there was something off about them.
She missed when the gaucho whispered in the little oddities ear, “You think you can create a barrier around the greenhouse darling?” A subtle nod was his answer, the child closed her eyes before a tingle ran up his spin—her powers crawling to surround the greenhouse, so nothing would be able to see or hear what was going to happen from the outside. It still amazed him to this day how powerful his child was. If Rook had any chance of winning, he couldn’t have any distractions. Now the gaucho just needed to keep Sophie distracted until the fight was over; she didn’t need to see how violent their kind can be to one of their own, more importantly her brother.
“…Do you wanna ride him?”
“W-what?!” She squeaked, when he distracted her from her thoughts. “I don’t know how to ride horseback. Knowing my luck I’ll fall off.” She chuckled nervously when the cowboy had a familiar cheeky gleam in his eyes.
“Nonsense, Ridin’ a Horse is like dancing, you gotta feel the rhythm and move with it.”
“I can’t dance either—” His hands began to move, “W-wait a second!” Strong arms lifted her up on top of the stallion, “Eep!” She held on to dear life, her thighs squeezing the horse’s side, while hugging the beast’s neck –thankful the animal wasn’t skittish and buck her off.
She squeaked, “Too high—this is very high!” The cowboy dared to laugh at her, “Y-your evil!”
“I prefer cunning. If you can take to the sky with your soul collector, you can ride a horse.” He clicked his teeth to get his horse walking in a circle, while he held the reins in the center with Ruby standing right beside him. His little ward leaned forward to lay against Little Bit's neck, enjoying the show.
Though Sophie's helpless squeaking was entertaining, the cowboy had to give her some pointers. “Sit up straight and move your butt with the horse.”
She stuttered, nearly biting her tongue from the bumpy ride, “W-what if he b-bucks me off!”
“That would never happen. Ace knows better than to buck anyone off, without my command.”
His confidence in his steed gave Sophie the courage to sit up straight, her hands gripping the horse’s thick mane, while she moved with the powerful beast. Soon she found herself at ease with the rhythmic pacing, even when the horse’s strides became faster. Her helpless “Eeps” had become uncontainable laughter as she let go and enjoyed the ride.
*~*~*
Damion walked beside Rook as they headed for the greenhouse. His apprentice was constantly checking to make sure the straps weren’t lose on his steel breast plate that was strapped around his chest, hidden underneath his hoodie. His mentor could feel the anxiety rolling off the boy, sweat gathering at the nap of his neck and brow, his heart pounding wildly. As long as the others didn’t concentrate to hear for a heartbeat, Rook’s secret was safe.
Damion spoke, “How are you feeling?”
Rook replied honestly, “Like I’m going to fucking puke.”
“Hm,” Damion said as he looked ahead, “That’s a good sign.” He remained silent then as their destination was upon them. Before they entered through the door to the green house Damion questioned, “Why did you chose to have the fight in the greenhouse?”
Rook looked up at the large dome ceiling. “More room to fly if needed.”
“A wise move for aerial attacks, however this is Sophie’s greenhouse. If you destroy this place beyond repair, you will face the consequences.”
The rookie smirked at Damion attempt at a joke. “Yeah, yeah fight the old goat, end it quickly, and don’t break anything in here; anymore advice old man?”
“As a matter of fact yes,” Damion glanced across the green house and spotted their target standing in waiting, his apprentices standing from afar, “notice the broken horn on our teacher?”
Rook followed his gaze, “Yeah I remember. I still can’t believe you actually snapped it off and stabbed him with it. ”
“It’s because of my quick thinking that I earned my rank and chose to live up here. If you want the same thing Rook you’re going to have to go for his weak spot and put everything you have in it to bring him down.” Rook listened closely as he kept his gaze locked on the old goat. “Make no mistake, my mentor is still a formidable foe, but if you can get in close enough and attach that spot you have a chance. It won’t be easy. He protects his broken horn by keeping his opponent at a far distance, and he is skilled in the art of the long spear, not to mention that he is skilled with his spells. Don’t go rushing in—get him to drop his guard and attack. Do not stop until he is down, understand?”
“Cristal.” Rook said before walking forward. There was no turning back now.
The old demon glanced their way when they came into sight. “So you have decided to show up after all.” He moved to stand in the center of the garden where there were no plants or tables in the way. “Good. Let us finish this.” Smoke swirled around his willow hands before his long spear appeared, the heavy weapon falling into his hands, while its fine haired tail settled into place that helped balance out the weapons spear point.
Rook stepped forward, summoning his own weapon as his double sword appeared in his hands before he separated them.
“The rules are you keep fighting until one of you is down,” said Damion, “and you will both keep your magic to a minimum.” This place was his gift to Sophie; he would not let them destroy it.
“Acceptable,” the old goat said, “Not that I will need any magic to take this boy out.” His eyes raised to met Damion dark glare, “and when I win this fight, you will cast that human out once and for all.”
Damion eyes flashed red, “That is not part of the deal!”
“Oh but it is. Your student raised the stakes without your knowledge. I win; you lose both your student and precious human. If I lose—which I doubt—I will breathe no word of what I have witnessed here to the dark lord.”
Damion’s eyes were murderous when stared at Rook. How dare Rook take that kind of risk! How dare that old goat for trying to separate them!
Rook tried not to flinch under his gaze. “I know! You’re going to beat my ass after this, but I need to kick his ass first!”
Damion pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache beginning to form. “For all of our sakes you better you prick!” A eerie silence filled the room before Damion breathed the words, “Begin.”
The seasoned warrior took his stance—expecting the rookie to come blazing head-on. However Rook did quite the opposite, backing away from his spears reaching distance, instead. There was a calculating glint in his eyes as Rook tried to stay calm and focused.
So the boy has learned to strategies…It still won’t save him. The older demon took a step forward—Rook taking a step away again.
The older demon taunted Rook, “How will you ever defeat me if you never stand your ground?” Rook still didn’t charge in blindly, so the demon decided to make the first move. “Very well then, I will come to you!”
If this is the game the brat wants to play, he would play along. The senior disappeared as a black blur only to reappear right in front of Rook, his height suffocating his space as his spear thrusted forward towards Rook’s gut.
Out of sheer reflex, Rook scissored his swords—thrusting them down on the spear point, stopping the attack.
An arrogant smirk spit across his face when he saw the mild surprise in the old goats eyes. ‘He’s not as fast as, Damion.’ He could do this!
“Don’t get cocky!” The demon pulled his spear away, causing Rook to tumble forward. He just narrowly escaped the old goat’s claws as they made a swipe for his neck, only to hit air when Rook bend his knee and spun away. Rook tried to recover his stance, only to have it shakened again when the goat kept thrusting his spear at the boy’s legs, torso, and face.
He blocked a blow to the face, only to feel a sharp sting to his ankle. With a yelp, Rook lost his balance and fell to the ground, before being forced to barrel roll when a spear point came raining down on him. He at last gained distance and shot back up on his feet again, his lungs batting to catch a breath, while he kept his blades up. His former teacher was once again in a relaxed stance, while looking completely bored with him.
Rook bared his teeth until his fangs grazed his lower lip, a low feral growl, like that of a bobcat, emitted from his mouth. ‘The fucker is messing with me!’ His blood boiled, while his heart beated erratically with pent up anger.
“Remember your training Rook!” He heard Damion shout, trying to stay calm and collected for his student. It worked as Rook took longer breaths. He forced himself to calm down, knowing the old goat was trying to bait him to be on the offence, like Damion said he would. His eyes glided over the beautifully crafted spear, and knew if he stood a chance he needed to get that spear out of the older demons grasp. Light reflected across his face, temporarily blinding him from the old goat’s next attack.
Rook dodged in time, his reflection looking right back at him before the spear went flying past his head; the weapon imbedding itself into the grass. A burst of adrenaline coursed through his veins. The demon was without his weapon—leaving him wide open, Rook bolted forward with his weapons raised!
Silver sliced against flesh—blood splattering across the ground. Rook dropped one of his blades, in exchange to clutching the gash on the opposite shoulder—gritting his teeth from the sharp pain as he watched that damn spear levitate back to its master.
‘Stupid!’ He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy!
The seasoned warrior claimed his weapon again—swinging the blood off its blade. “Pathetic,” he muttered. Was this the best his star pupil could do with this amateur?
‘I am clearly going to have to break him down and start from scratch.’
“Time to end this,” he spoke before the demon charged the rookie. He wasn’t one to attack head on, but he grew bored with the boy’s poor display of fighting skills.
Rook bolted back, running through the aisle of berry bushes, losing his enemy in the large shrubbery. Damion’s feet felt like lead as he watched Rook run into the tall brush columns, the urge to go after and protect the boy was strong but he couldn’t interfere anymore than he had. His fists clenched tighter, “Come on Rook.”
Sweat trickled down his face, running for his life. “Damn it! What am I going to do?!” He was bleeding; one blade short, and worse—was running like a coward!”
“Think! There has to be a way to beat him!—” Just then a blade sliced through a black berry bush in front of him. On pure instinct, his wings sprung forth, taking to the skies to doge the attack that would have taken out his legs. From above he could see the old demon on the other side of the bushes, his own wings taking him off the ground. In a flash he was in front of Rook again, his blade poised to strike. “Is dodging and running away the only things you’ve learned?” He swung his blade, only to be blocked again by Rook’s own blade. But the force behind his swing sent the boy flying into the glass ceiling—shattering one of the many window frames decorating the dome. Snow and fragments of glass littered Rook’s back, that would have penetrated his back if it weren’t for the breast plate he was wearing.
Just then an idea came to him, he held onto the metal frame to keep his balance. Shaking it off, Rook hovered in the air again, “That all you got, old goat!” This time, when the warrior charged with his spear aimed at his chest, he didn’t doge—didn’t run. The sharp blade zeroed in on his chest, his hoodie shredding open, but the armor held strong with just a hollow scratch! He dropped his remaining blade to wrap both hands around the shaft of the spear.
Once again he managed to surprise the soul collector. “Armor? Clever but it still won’t help you!” He barreled them both like two eagles with their talons locked together—making Rook loose his grip of the blade. He swung the tail end at Rook’s head, sending him to crash to the ground when the hidden metal boule connected with his template and eye, the force knocking his weapon out of his hand to fall to the ground below.
The rookie was splayed out on his side on one of the many greenhouse tables; flower pots shattered and plants scattered from the impact. Still the boy tried to get up, rolling to his stomach while his knees tried to lift him—his hands searching for stability among the shattered plant pots, shifting dirt and de-rooted plants and held them in a desperate grip. His whole world was spinning from that hit, his tongue feeling numb, not even tasting the blood in his mouth. He could hear the warrior landing right behind him, slowly approaching him.
“I believe I am the victor,” boasted the old goat before he forced Rook onto his back to see his face bleeding and swelling.
The demon stole a glance Damion’s way, “What a pity. I expected much more of a fight from your apprentice.” He didn’t miss the burning rage in Damion’s eyes, the way his fists tightened—no doubt wanting nothing more than to lop off his head. The only reason he hadn’t was because of the rules of the bargain.
‘And soon enough you shall be purged of this behavior and forget all of what occurred here with that human,’ the demon thought coldly before his gaze returned to Rook, who was trying to rise again.
He closed the gap between them, grabbing a handful of Rook’s hair and jerking the boys head, forcing him to look straight into his eyes, “Anything you wish to say before I drag you back to hell? Begging for mercy perhaps?”
A pathetic strained gurgle was all he heard from the boys lips, and decided to indulge the boy this once and lowered his head; his long peppered bangs almost touching the side of the rookie’s face. “Come again? Speak up boy?”
His eyes held a menacing gleam when he spoke, “Suck my devil fruit!” Using his levitation spell, Rook flung a flowerpot at the back of the old goats head—connecting with the demon’s broken horn; the surprise attack forcing the demon’s eyes to clench shut and his mouth open in shock and pain. With crushed habanero peppers in hand, Rook seized his chance and shoved the searing peppers into the demon’s mouth—smearing the pepper juice across his face and eyes.
All Rook could hear was Damion shouting, “Get him Rook,” before he launched himself at his enemy—keeping his hand latched around the demon’s mouth and nose while he twisted his body until he was on the old goats back—his legs wrapped around the demon’s waist like steel. His free arm moving to deliver a nasty hook that connected with the broken horn—making the seasoned warrior nearly buckle beneath him.
He tried to knock Rook off, and spit out the peppers that were scorching his mouth and throat. He elbowed the boy in the ribs that resulted in the hand tightening around his mouth and nose before he felt another punch to his horn. This time he couldn’t stay on his feet as the agonizing pain shot down his entire body. He frantically tried to pry Rook’s hand away from his face again, desperately needing air, but Rook wouldn’t budged—continuing to rain his fist down at the base of the demon’s broken horn; breaking bone fragments. He fell to the ground, his mind threatening to black out as the boy continued to batter him. Every punch more agonizing than the last that coursed through his nervous system, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when dark spots entered his sight.
Only when he had the old goat on the ground did he release his hold over his mouth, but he wasn’t done. With a cruel grip on the back on the old demon’s head Rook forced his face more into the gravel—his knee buried in between his shoulders as he continued to throw punch after punch at the demon’s horn and template. All he could see was red as he felt a rage he’d never known before fill him. Before he could send another blow to the demon’s head, a steel grip stopped him. He growled at the one who dared to stop him, only to be surprised to see that it was Damion who had a tight grip on his fist.
“Enough. He’s down.” He watched Rook pant heavily with sweat covering his face; he eyes glowing crimson red before he shook out of his hold. An uneasy feeling gripped Damion’s gut seeing Rook like this. For a moment, he believed Rook was actually trying to kill their former teacher.
“I ain’t done with him yet!”
Damion knew he had to pull rank to get his apprentice under control. Pulling Rook off of their senior he yelled, “Yes you are! You won Rook, that’s all that matters.” Pushing him away, “Get yourself cleaned up.”
The crimson glowed brighter in the boys eyes, and for a second Damion though he was going to attack him. After a long pause Rook finally back away, but not before spitting at the fallen demon.
Damion didn’t know what to think or feel at that moment. A part of him was relieved that Rook had won and prevented him from losing Sophie, but...just then seeing the boy like that…it felt wrong seeing Rook with that cruel smile. He was roused from his thoughts when the sound of his former teacher coughs broke the silence. There was a small puddle of crimson collecting at his head as his broken horn continued to ooze blood, a gash above his brow leaked across his face while he continued to breath with every agonizing breathe.
For some reason it didn’t please Damion like he thought it would seeing his former teacher like this. Yes, he loathed him, but at least the demon had enough honor to stop when Rook was down instead of continuing to beat him to death.
Damion looked around, finally spotting the almost forgotten audience with them. The two apprentices showed absolutely no concern for him—didn’t even try to assist him as they continued to stare coldly down at their fallen teacher. No doubt thinking now was the time to challenge their teacher and up their rank from rookies.
‘Pathetic cowards’
Then again that was how they were all taught to fight and live. Only now did Damion see the true cruelty and wrongness of it all, and how far he’s strayed from it to this life now with Sophie. His eyes traveled back down to rest upon the old demon.
…To have no one to care for you and help you stand back up on your feet was truly a tragic sight.
But tragic or not, this demon tried to take away something precious of his. With that bitter thought in mind, Damion left his former teacher there on the ground to follow after Rook to help attend his injuries.
The potent inferno that consumed the demon’s mouth and throat surpassed hells scorching breath—it burned his eyes and skin and was getting worse every moment he laid there, bleeding.
He had to get up…Knew he was too vulnerable in this position.
Stretching out his trembling arm he summoned his spear to him, using it as a crutch when he struggled to his feet. The demon’s whole world was spinning—his equilibrium completely off balance as he struggled just to stand. His tongue felt thick while it continued to throb and burn; making it difficult to breath.
He felt a familiar presence behind him. Tilting his head to the side, he saw his male apprentice—his stance ridged with his hand resting at the hilt of his medieval dagger that was sheathed on his belt. The seasoned demon could see the intent in his apprentice’s eyes—his plan of over throwing him, and no longer be labeled as a rookie. The old demon quickly spotted his other apprentice where she continued to stand with her eyes on the ground, like an obedient apprentice should be.
Icy blue eyes stayed locked on him with calculating ambition, “Teacher?” He spoke stoically, his hand tightening around his weapon.
The old demon turned to face him, wiping the blood from his eye before standing taller while he masked his pain. Baring he fangs he spoke in an ominous strained voice, “If you dare to challenge me, I suggest you get it over with! But I warn you, an injured animal can be twice as dangerous when threatened.” He lifted his spear and shifted his feet, ready to fight his own student. “Care to test me, boy?”
Seeing the fire in his mentor’s eyes made the demon falter in drawing his weapon. After a long pause the blue eyed demon backed down, his eyes casted back to the ground, “Forgive me, teacher. You’re orders, sir?”
“You too will retire for now until the sun sets. We must be ready if the soul eaters have, indeed, become strategists.” His breathing became labored the longer he stayed on his feet. “Leave me be, until I call for you.” He attentively watched as his female subordinate instantly obeyed and walked past him, grabbing the other rookie by the bicep to get him to follow her out of the greenhouse. Only when he was completely alone did the senior drop his guard and find a hidden place amongst the greenery while he recovered. He found it becoming more difficult to keep his eyes open from the sting of the pepper, and only worsened it when he tried to rub it out of his eyes. His eyes squinted around the vast green house until he found an acceptable place to rest beneath one of many pear and apple trees, the berry brush making for perfect cover until his wounds healed.
He leaned against the trunk, falling to the floor, with his long willow legs stretched out as he applied pressure to his battered horn that throbbed like a loud drum in his head and ears.
‘How did this happen?’ He thought, while his head began to swim again, making him feel nauseous. Never had his pride been shattered like this. After his defeat with, Damion seventy-three years ago and the loss of his horn he had to fight harder, fly faster, and think sharper so none would attempt to pick him off. He had survived his lose and became one of their best…until today. To be defeat by a rookie at the age of two months…it was tempting to just take his own life then have his humiliation found out. There would be no chance of survival for him this time if the others ever discovered, and he was too tired to start all over again from the beginning.
His teeth ground together tightly to the point of nearly breaking as his hand gripped at the base of his broken horn, the reminder of everything he had lost.
*~*~*~*~*
Sophie didn’t know how long she had been riding around in circles, but by the time the beast finally stop her cheeks were cherry red from the cold and aching from laughing so hard. She gave the kind cowboy a breathless, “Thank you,” when he helped her slid down his horse; holding on to her elbow until she stood on stable legs again. She stroked the graceful beast’s neck, while giant puffs of fog burst from its snout.
Speaking between breaths of air, “I never knew…horseback riding…was so much fun.” Another giggle bubble behind her lips as she calmed from her adrenaline rush.
The gaucho couldn’t help but smile, her happiness was contagious, “And it was my pleasure giving you this experience, ma’am.”
“—Oh please, call me Sophie. There’s no need to be so formal with me.” She rubbed Ruby’s ear when her dog leaned against her leg. But it was those intelligent eyes that stayed locked on his that caught the gaucho’s interest. One peek into the animals mind and he knew that this was no ordinary dog, but an Alligare. It seems Damion has been taking extra precautions when it comes to protecting his woman. Question is does she know? As far as he could tell, the Doberman held dark demonic aura that equaled its masters and was still able to hold this form.
She roused him from his thoughts when she noticed his ward slouched on her mule. Sophie walked up to the mule, and saw that the little oddity looked exhausted. “Are you alright, sweetie?” Her reply was a small yawn, as the demon child curled up against the mule’s neck, looking ready to fall asleep right here.
The gaucho was by her side, reaching for the child. “I got her.”
‘She must have exhausted herself holding the barrier for so long on such a large area. I shouldn’t of pushed her limits.’
Not wanting his child to plummet to the snow, her protector gently took her into his strong arms. The child curled up more against his warmth, and released a content sigh when he cradled her head, his clawed thumb carefully stroking her template, while he laid his cheek on top her crown.
Sophie watched the way he held the child with such care and tenderness, it was unmistakable. ‘This demon had to have been a father when he was human…but what would make such a kind man agree to the dark lord’s contract? What regrets did he have that made him take this path?’Her heart lurked in sympathy, and knew it was pointless in asking him. He would have no memory of his past, and couldn’t answer any of her questions.
Her gaze settled on the cloudy sky as she slowly released a foggy breath. Would her brother be the only Soul Collector to escape the contract? Or was their another way to help those that wanted their freedom back? She could only hope.
Just then something caught her eye at the top of her green house, that shouldn’t be there. “…Is that a broken window?”
The gaucho followed her line of sight and grimaced when he saw one of the glass windows shattered at the top. His elegant pointed ears silenced for any sign of a continuing battle, and heard only silence. “Looks like the fights over, “he muttered.
Her brows drew together, absorbing what the soul collector just said. “Fight?” She could feel her heart beating hard against her breast plate as every worse scenario came to mind of Damion fighting the other demons.
‘Oh god, Damion!’
Hurt, accusing eyes looked back at the gaucho beside her, his eyes looking back with sorrow and hopefulness that she would understand why he didn’t tell her what happened right inside her home. She didn’t say a word to him as she dashed to the front porch, nearly slipping from the snow and shoved her way past the wood oak doors. ‘Please be alright!’ She ran as fast her legs could take her--not paying attention to the two rookie's that stood in the shadows of the living room, as they stared blankly at her; making a mad dash down the hall and a sharp left to the kitchen, Sophie literally crashing into a wall of muscle. She would have fell on her rump if not for the arm of steel that wrapped protectively around her back and stabilizing her.
Damion held her close while she rubbed at her nose, whispering an, “ow,” under her breath, before emerald eyes peeked up at him. A relieved breath that she’d been holding fled her lungs, when she assessed over Damion’s body and found no newly attained injuries. She flung her arms around his waist, her shoulders trembling further when she felt the weight of his comforting arms around her.
“What’s wrong, Sophie?”
She removed her face from his chest, wiping the corners of her eyes. “I-I’m fine. I saw the broken window, and thought something happened to you.”
She leaned against Damion’s hand when he cupped her face tenderly. “I’m fine, little one…its Rook that needs attending to.” Before she could ask him what he meant Damion walked over to the kitchen table where Rook sat, giving the boy a make shift ice pack to help with the swelling.
Her brother was hunched over as he sat on top the kitchen table, his shirt was removed and she could see his skin covered in fresh bruises. “Rook,” she gasped when she saw the nasty dark purple bruise around his eye. She was immediately by his side, and saw the skin on his hands littered with cuts and was blistering red, “What happened to you?”
He smiled through the pain, “I’m fine shrimp, really…though I didn’t know devil fruit could burn so much.” He winced when he tried to flex his hands, the intense heat was slowly building on his skin and it was even worse in the cuts on his knuckles.
She gave him that peeved look as he tried to write off his pain as if it was nothing. “You are certainly not fine!” She went to the cabinet, searching through the varieties of jars before she found the one she was looking for. She filled the kettle and put it on the stove, before using a spoon to scoop the fine powdered herb, “Devil’s Claw” into the pot. This herb did wonders for reducing inflammation and was nature’s pain killers.
While she waited for the herb tea to boil she got a jar of milk from the ice box and looked for a bowl from underneath the island that would be big enough to put Rook’s hands in. “Here,” she instructed him, as she placed the bowl onto his thighs and filled it half way with milk, before placing his hands into the bowl, then went to get the first aid kit. He released a relived sigh as the milk instantly began to take the edge of the pepper’s oils.
‘Too bad the rest of me still feels like hammered shit…I can’t believe I lost it back there.’ He didn’t regret what he did. He won the battle, that’s all that mattered. It was just a little frightening how he became blood thirsty…how he lost control and, had even for a moment, wanted to hurt Damion too. ‘Come on Rook. Keep it together.’
A grunt escaped his lips when Damion held the ice pack over his eye for him since his hands were soaking. Peeking up at him with his good eye he asked, “You pissed off at me, old man?—Ow!”
“Oh don’t be such a baby and hold still, “chided Sophie as she went back to stitching up a deep gash on his upper left arm.
His teacher remained silent for a moment before he spoke, “You’re lucky I’m not thumping you over the head for what you've pulled today…but you did well, Rook.”
Her brows furrowed as she tried to keep up with the demons conversation, “And what exactly did you do, Rook?”
The cocky demon gave her a toothy grin, despite the pain he was in. “I won my first fight. If you think I look bad you should see the old goat.”
(cliffy X3 hey I know its been a while, but I’m finally free from the pumpkin patch, so I got my weekends back! But I did make $1,100 face painting ^U^ I’ll try and update soon!)
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(Hey guys I gotta make a part 2 for this ch. -.- I hate having restrictions to 19 pages per submissions.
Part 2> Ch. 19 B2 The broken warrior Part 2
