The Innocence of Teacups

A week past by and all symptoms of his experiences being a demon were still fresh however manageable to cope with. If you were to look at him now you would never guess he’d been a demon. He knew only too well, however also knew hiding from the world at Vulfgang Heights would be cowardly. So he was walking through the black cylinder tunnel, letting Alaric guide him to human life.

“Can’t we use a portal instead of going through this creepy tunnel?” he asked as he looked about him for giant hands. He kept a firm grip on Alaric’s arm, knowing if he let go he might get dragged away.

“Portals can only be opened in certain spots. Long ago Father banished portals being able to open in and around our castle. He said he didn’t want to risk random spirits or vampyres turning up on our doorstep.”

Made sense. If he had a home he wouldn’t like to know that strangers would be able to magically pop up on his doorstep.

When they came out onto the sheep filled field, Alaric conjured a portal which would take them to Freyr’s manor house. He stared into the black void gathering his nerves before he went through. What he would do when he saw Freyr was a mystery all he knew was he must see him in order to make a decision.

Through the portal onto the altar. He leapt right off the revolting stone slab and stood rubbing at his arms.

“Don’t sin,” came as a whisper then as a bat Alaric flew round his head then flapped off into the depths of some trees, leaving him alone to face Freyr.

He walked the woods slowly, wrapping his black cloak tightly round his shoulders longing for this night to be over. It was awful not knowing what he was going to do. Thinking of Freyr made him burn up with anger.

“Betrayed betrayed betrayed,” he whispered to himself as he came out of the woods and stepped onto the driveway.

No noise came from the house nor were there any lights coming from the windows. However there was a light shining through cracks in the stable walls. Most likely Freyr was in there. Okay time to face that sleazy merchant who had taken him in with intentions to use and destroy him. No more hiding.

Anticipating seeing Freyr right away he pushed open the stable door all set to scream and rant but no ex-master was within the stable. Instead he was greeted with Silver whickering; happy to see him. He went over to the horse and stroked through his thick unruly mane.

A few candles in lanterns lit up sections of the stable. Books were strewn all over the floor while all their stock was flung carelessly in mounds of straw. His attention was drawn to black hilts of his old knives. He gave Silver one final stroke then stepped over to his knives and brushed straw from them. Tools for an assassin. His reflection scowled at him from a glistening blade.

Heavy footsteps came from outside. He gripped the hilts tight and slipped over to the cart, crouching behind it as Freyr strode into the stable. He breathed softly hardly making any sound as he held back an urge to fling himself at Freyr. Hack through his skull into his treacherous brain.

“Nothing tells me anything. Useless!” Freyr yelled as he tossed a book at a wall. Next Freyr kicked out at a mound of straw. “How dare those demons do a disappearing act right after... after... Curse it!” Freyr dropped to his knees and opened one of his books, scanning pages with distressed eyes. “I’ll bring Eagle back even if it kills me.”

A part of him wanted to reveal himself to end Freyr’s suffering. When he was about to let his kind nature win over he reminded himself of the mad look in Freyr’s eyes when he’d shackled him to that altar. It wasn’t as though it had been a random act. Premeditated. A premeditated act which had been planned for at least fourteen years. As much as a part of him wanted to tell his old master everything would be alright there was no way. Freyr had ruined them.

How dare Freyr want to bring him back? The nerve! Lightly he side stepped, inching along the cart, keeping to the shadows. He could end Freyr so easily. He tensed his grip on his knives. Could end him right now... but no there were ways other than death to get even. Besides killing Freyr would change nothing. He backed right into the depths of the shadows. Wealth meant lots to Freyr so he’d hit him where it hurt.

With much stealth he crept through the stable listening to Freyr’s murmurings. It would be a shame to leave Silver behind. Hopefully his crazed ex-master wouldn’t try to eat him or something gruesome like that. Approaching the stable doors without being detected was easy enough; he’d been taught well by the best. Skulking in shadows was his speciality.

“I’ll find him, I’ll find him,” he heard Freyr muster to himself as he padded away from the stable leaving his life with Freyr behind.

On returning to the altar he found Alaric stood on top of it with folded arms. “You’ve sinned.”

He attempted to impersonate Alaric’s grin. “Teach me.”

“Dark magic?”

“Yes.”

“For what purpose?”

“I intend to be the most successful merchant in both Kazara and Zoticas and in the process steal away Freyr’s most valued customers.”

“I like the sounds of this. However I do wonder why you would be in need of dark magic.”

“I know he doesn’t do things by the book so need some dark magic to aid my enterprise.” His grin dropped. “I’m so confused. I can’t simply kill him but neither can I forget and let him get away with what he put me through.”

“Then I think your plans are quite fitting.”

“Did you find out about Sasha?”

“He’s not in the village neither is his tombstone.”

“I think I’ll go to Azure City. I enjoyed myself there when I wasn’t being hounded by Lev and there won’t be much chance of me bumping into Freyr.”

“What about Lev?”

“I’ll take the risk. Besides Kalama is bound to have reported me as an evil demon living in Nocta Umbra.”

“There’s a portal I can open to get you close to Zoticas problem being you’ll come out in the midst of Spirit Land. Would you rather walk?”

Walking would take days and he didn’t fancy tackling Violet Mountain. “You best open up that portal.”

Spirit Land.

They stood upon a river of white dead earth which looked as though it had been scorched by fire long ago. All that grew here were trees that appeared dead seen as they were white too and never sprouted leaves. He stroked a knife hilt with a thumb while his eyes scanned decrepit land for life. Spirits should be frolicking in the moonlight but he could neither see nor hear scuttling legs.

“Gone,” whispered Alaric on pacing round a tree.

“Gone where?”

“Somewhere other than here. At least you’ll be able to get across easy enough. Watch out for holes in the ground.” Alaric came over to him and gripped both his wrists right on the pulse. “One night I will come to start teaching you about dark magic.” Alaric was just about to leave go of him when he added as an afterthought. “When I next turn my sixth sense onto you I best not find you have gotten yourself into another fix.” Pressure was released from his wrists and his friend was gone. That prince sure did come and go.

Still holding his knives he travelled along chalky terrain. It was a bother he hadn’t been able to grab his sheaths. Carrying naked knives around would make him look threatening. How was he going to gain access into Zoticas without any coins to pay the fee? He mulled over this question as he swerved a gaping great hole in the ground. Paying fees there were much grander worries besides paying for things in the universe like being turned demon or held captive by Horn Hunters. He jumped a smaller hole and landed in a cloud of white dust. How liberating to be travelling in his true body all by himself with no one telling him where to go, what to do, or who to be.

His walk in Spirit Land seemed to pass quickly and he was soon treading over brambles and through shrubs onto a sturdy road which should take him to the toll booth. He must be going in the right direction because there were those tree sculptures. Hello art. Yeah living amongst like minded people who appreciated art would suit him fine.

In the light of dawn he turned his knives round in his hands as he walked. With these two he had taken lives. His stomach tensed. No more killing. He would sell these supposedly expensive blades in order to gain some coins to start himself up as a merchant. Seventeen might be a bit young for starting up on his own. That maybe so however he would rather swerve serving a new master. Masters betrayed.

WELCOME TO ZOTICAS

Right time to try persuading the toll collector into... what was that in the middle of the road? He raised his blades to his face in a protective stance and edged over to a woman’s head sat in a puddle of blood, dripping sinew. Grosse. He winced. On the back of the welcome sign two guards’ corpses were tied. Their arms were nowhere in sight which brought up morose questions: Who would take someone’s arms and what would they do with them? Backing away from the welcome sign he took a peek in the toll booth and blanched. The toll collector was sprawled across her desk headless.

Why wasn’t anyone checking out these murders? Anyone could waltz into Zoticas. Someone had. Not wanting to be the only living person on the scene when guards came calling he hurried along the road. At least gaining access into Zoticas was easy.

Now how to get to Azure? It was hard to remember the way with all these roads and paths when he’d only visited once before.

“You look archaic,” said someone on the road making him jump. How strange to have another human speaking to him. Archaic? Oh yeah his clothes must look odd. “Is there a fancy dress party going on somewhere?”

“Yeah in Azure. I’m going as a vampyre, only I’ve gotten lost.”

The someone on the road pointed out which way would get him to Azure and told him some directions which he tried to absorb. Soon he was backtracking along the road, keeping his cloak wrapped round himself to avoid people staring at his unusual clothes although the cloak wasn’t exactly normal being grandly long, blacker than night, with an ostentatious red lining . The first thing he’d have to do when these knives were sold would be to buy some new clothes which was a bother but he couldn’t stand people staring.

Familiar small white houses built up around him which got larger and larger the further down the road he got until the road opened out into streets where city folk bustled about their business. There was an apple seller pulling his cart along, tempting anyone who got in his way with a shiny red apple. One woman was holding a large sheet of parchment advertising a play, she waved her poster around while calling, “The Sorcerer’s Lantern tonight at Blue Jewel Theatre!”

As he wandered around watching the world go by he wondered if Sasha was getting back to normal. He really wanted to find out if the Sapphire Knight was in barracks doing whatever Sapphire Knights did. Problem being he wouldn’t be welcome at barracks and it would make for a risky venture going anywhere near the place. Despite misgivings about visiting barracks he was well on his way towards them seen as his feet took him past The Juggler and along the road his and Freyr’s carriage had taken to Lady Lev’s party.