Reflections

[Arawn]

Prologue

The fumes of strong spirits filled the air and dancing firelight revealed a jovial human camp scene. A caravan had stopped to rest for the night in a grassy clearing. The men and women were having a night to themselves, singing loudly to the heavens. All the children had been put to bed early and the troupe decided to celebrate their reaching such a hallowed region of their native continent. The sky above Tevir Woods was alight with stars and other cosmic bodies that night, shining down at the campsite. Since the younger members of the group were presumably resting in their tents, the men were free to explore baser instincts. Thighs were squeezed with growing abandon and the fire seemed to crackle with approval. Music played from roughly crafted instruments to mix with the laughter and growing moans.

The party of twenty, boasting seven able-bodied men, had been traveling for weeks to visit the Tower of Ecclesia, which now stood high above them, concealed for the moment by the gathering darkness; its silhouette had only just melted into that sea of black. They were camped at the base of the mountain that served as its pedestal, perhaps only a day’s constant upward march from their goal. Their pilgrimage was one of dual purpose. The tall, narrow edifice high above them was a beacon of grace to the acolytes of the Church of the Ethereal Sway. Many traveled far and wide simply to kneel at its doorstep and pay their respects. Yet, there was another reason for the humans’ interest now. Rumors had spread that the tower’s curator and resident priest had deemed it time to open his doors and allow entry to those he deemed worthy. This was of particular import because the Tower of Ecclesia had long been believed to house a most powerful artifact within its walls. Many with less than full allegiance to the church now sought to reach the holy tower. Curiosity and a thirst for the supremacy of their clan had forged this caravan.

Those singing and petting around the campfire spared no thought to their intentions upon reaching the Church’s construct, however. They were in the moment, caught up in the elation of having their destination in sight and mixing it with strong spirits and animal passion. They thought neither of the considerable noise they were making in these unfamiliar woods, unaware their lack of foresight had brought with it unwanted attention. From the thick brush that surrounded the well-lit clearing, a stalker’s red eyes bore witness to the humans’ lascivious interaction with a mute hunger. A cruel tongue passed over long fangs. The thrill of murder was enhanced when his prey behaved as animalistic as ever.

“Always faithful to their cruder natures,” he hissed in the cold night air, “like pigs reveling in muck. Hardly any trouble at all.”

Noting that drink was threatening to put some of his victims into wake-less stupors soon, the unseen shadow emerged from his refuge and took several steps into the clearing. It took a couple of seconds for anything to happen, but one woman quite nearby finally managed to remove her tongue from her intoxicated companion’s mouth long enough to notice their uninvited guest, scream at the top of her lungs, and faint unceremoniously on top of her mate. This provoked the others to turn and gaze upon the intruder. Standing a commanding seven feet tall, the demon’s humanoid body was covered entirely with thick, snake-like red scales that shown like rubies in the firelight. His face seemed a thing out of horror stories, menacing fanged grin on a rough visage topped by backward curving black horns. The humans seemed to struggle to move their inebriated minds from a state of lust to alertness.

“Come now,” the demon spoke with a guttural voice that chilled them to the bone more effectively than the harshest Salvic winds, “surely you can conjure the lucidity to make this sporting.”

Sobered alarmingly by the threat in this monster’s tone, the closest man’s hand reached for the dagger sheathed at his belt. Before his fingers touched hilt, the demon had raised his massive claw of a hand and manifested an orb of brilliant flame from thin air. The man had time only to gasp as the fireball raced to incinerate his homely face. The black stump of a neck left in its wake was more than enough to convince the rest of the women to join the first in screaming, though they chose to run rather than sprawl themselves at this horror's feet. The men stumbled to their feet as their assailant lifted the first unconscious woman by the hair like a rag doll, her flaccid limbs hanging sinisterly as he ran a razor-like digit horizontally across her mid-section. Crimson blood oozed from the straight line and once it spanned from one side to the other, the demon shook his comatose puppet until the gash widened itself and exposed the unfortunate female’s entrails to the night air. She would never wake.

“You'll die for that, you bastard!” one of the men shouted disgustedly, and they all rallied to charge with blades drawn and war cries splitting through the night.

The demon, unfazed, tossed the woman’s corpse aside as if she were a toy he’d quickly grown bored with and raised a solitary finger to hover before his cruelly shaped mouth in a mock call for silence.

“Hush! We don’t want to wake the children, do we?”