The sky was clouded in thunderous grays, and even in the midst of noon it felt like dusk, the air and world washed clean of color. Twigs and leaves skittered along blocks of cement sidewalks and down the asphalt roads. Farther out lye the commissary, and down along the polluted riverbank the dingy tops of ribbed roofs could be seen, constrained by brick walls. Carris’s eyes purged the surroundings for movement. None- not yet. But soon.
The Demon Prince’s claws tensed. A group of demons behind him shuffled their trunk thick legs, peering out the bushes, awaiting Carris’s directive. Ijin had not misdirected all of them yet, so many still remained under his command. Carris peered further into the village, the faded star light enough to clarify every detail of the situation.
A small multitude of poverty ridden angels crowded the town gate, despondently singing. Carris noticed their eyes with tears, their exchanges of comfort. Something was going on.
One man turned from the brick wall, noticing something out of the ordinary. His jaw dropped, his arm quivering, “Death!!” The man cried, pointing at Carris, “The Reaper of Death is here!! He caused this!”
Carris swung himself over a roof, climbing with a spider like agility till he had a good outlook of the surrounding development. The angels were running around and screaming now, and within moments Carris glanced back to see his own demon army collapsing into piles of dust. He had not directed any of this, and he knew who had evaporated his warriors. Ijin. It was only in that moment that Carris stopped, in between the paralysis of always asking Ijin for direction and the energy of Trixie naming Carris’s own power to his face. He could grovel to Ijin.. or he could take action.
Carris took action.
In the crowd of angels Ijin grunted and quickened his pace, dodging the continual explosive blasts Carris was now throwing after him. Ijin frantically examined his predicament, biting out curses. The Demon Prince flew from above, landing directly in front of Ijin.
Ijin’s lips curled into a sickly snarl, and he drew his cloak up around him like a cocoon. In fury, Carris’s silhouette came to life in an aura of conflagration, and with a violent ‘swoosh’ of his arm, an enormous blaze of inferno spattered forward yet barely grazed Ijin’s barrier. “Destroy the Reaper!!” Ijin commanded the few demons he had guarding him.
The Demon Prince roared in retaliation, tearing away his own cloak and flinging it at Ijin’s face. Carris flicked his fingers- one, two, three, four, and five, and from each a bolt sprang forth and exploded Ijin’s backup support to ashes as Ijin had done to Carris’s support. The reduced army of Ijin tried to run, but didn’t make it far. Carris summoned a voluminous sphere of energy, and the rest of them went up like flesh balloons that sizzled and popped in flames. Ijin used the distraction to move away and move fast.
Carris rapidly retrieved his cloak from the flames and glared up at the town’s border, where the angels had gathered to cry before running away. That’s when he saw her. Siasma, his mother. Blood dripped down the cement wall. All that was left of Siasma was wrinkled lifeless skin, and long wavy gray hair that had only been stained with color the day before. He cursed her, and turned to charge away. How could he mourn someone that stole from him, fetishized him, dictated him.. someone that never taught him what a Mother was supposed to be? Carris’s arms spread outward as bolts recurrently flung from both of his hands. He did not have time to stop and feel. His head was lowered, eyes narrowed, and he sprinted from the town toward the hazel meadow where Ijin was running away to.