Daevas -I- ✔️

Chapter 1.1: Perchance a Demon

*This is a rough draft ///Under Revision//// *

The night was quiet, yet the wind whispered the promised words of death. The unfortunate souls who decided to linger well into the night were damned. This was their time to feed.

Ari's gaze was set upon the sky, letting the cold raindrops plummet onto his face. He shook his blade free of black blood and pushed onward. The weight of the rain bearing against his cloak slowed him in more ways than one. Without their scent, he would not be able to track the rest down.

"Ari, the others?" Freir boomed as the downpour worsened.

"They have gotten away from me!"

He searched for Freir's face in the darkness, to no avail. The clouds blocked the light of the moon, leaving him in a perpetual darkness so profound he could not make out his own hand from in front of his face. It spoke of an ominous night.

"Let us find shelter. Outside is growing to be more and more disadvantageous," Freir bellowed. "Rein will come to the same conclusion."

There were no towns or inns around for many days. After all, they were in demon territory. All that he could make out was an old, rotting home in great disrepair as lightning streaked the sky. The wood of the beams were decaying from the inside and could collapse at any given moment. In truth, that was how Ari's legs felt.

Once inside, Ari fell to the floor exasperated. Blood oozed from a cut he took to his left side and another on his ankle. He hissed before exhaling, distracting himself from the onset of pain.

The cold dampness of the room brought out the smell of mold, decay, and death. It came from the walls, dripping into the hardwood floors and crept onto their skin, burying deeper and deeper into their bones like a maddening sickness. That is what the Taint did.

Ari managed to drag himself near the hearth as footsteps approached. By the weight of them against the wood, Ari knew they belonged to Freir and relaxed. Freir was armorless with worn, wet clothes sticking to him like a second skin. Water continued dribbling from his graying red hair leaving Ari with the image of a drenched, hefty cat. He was a stocky man in comparison to Ari's smaller, leaner form.

After two fruitless attempts at rubbing sticks together for a spark, Freir slammed them down and rummaged through his pockets for his tinderbox. Soon a fire was lit in the fireplace giving way to much-needed warmth and light.

"Keep your wits about you, boy. They are out there. They are near." Freir's lip curled which caused the long, diagonal gash going across his face to disfigure him even more.

The trees banged against the frangible walls of the house. It spread caution and weariness throughout the emptiness of the room. Already the noise coming from the rain made listening for their approach impossible. Now, it was the wind they must battle with.

"We are like chickens in a hen house surrounded by wolves," Ari murmured as he sat upright.

Ari moved his wet, black hair from his face and did his best to rise once more to remove his armor. His armor clinked and clamored with the movement, but He went on and unfastened pieces bit by bit until they dropped to the floor. It caused Freir to put his hand up, stopping Ari as his last piece of armor fell.

Plip.

Plop.

The sound of the drops of water dripping from Freir's hair down onto the floorboards resounded through the room. It was too quiet. Ari steadied his breath, reaching for his sword. Slowly, Freir crept to the door and pressed his ear against it.