07-24-2016, 12:08 PM
How long had the demon from the green been walking? Long enough to collect a thin layer of salty sweat and sore feet. His awakening and subsequent flight from Ambrosia left his body in a fog. A good fight and several days of rest should have rejuvenated him, but his pernicious host seemed bent on ruining his awakening. A deep scratching could be felt at the base of his skull, a caged animal was trapped in his skull and it wanted out. He was a boy at a dam, his finger stuck in a crack, keeping the flood at bay. However, with enough omnilium he could seal the dam, and build a better cage for his prisoner. Every action in this universe had weight, an almost imperceptible system of rewards for action. Every step, every breath rewarded him with an almost insignificant amount of that miraculous substance. And with every action he recreated his prison and forged even stronger cages for the souls trapped within his gut.
In his travels the demon Kuzuru stumbled through the charred gate of the Ashen Steppes. His wooden sandals collected ash and his bare feet became dirty and dry. Fatigue. Exhaustion was an ailment reserved for the corporeal, and it was an ailment that he had only just remembered. This body was not his own, and yet it still screamed at him with every step. How long had he been walking? Far too long. He came to a rest among several pillars crafted from stacked stones. They varied wildly in size, but all were deliberate in construction. The demon found a spire stacked upon a base of wide stones and sat on its edge, leaning against the body of the formation. Food and water were of no consequence to the prime, but even a demon must rest once in awhile. Unfortunately there was little rest to be found amongst the sacred spires. A voice, both powerful and demanding, called out to the resting demon, “This is hallowed ground outsider, you would do well to stand and show respect!”
Covered in sandy fur a half-dog half-human hybrid sauntered towards Kuzuru. The newcomer’s face looked more canine than human; a wicked snarl revealed rows of teeth in her muzzle and two pointed ears flattened themselves back. In her hand she hefted a bastard of a sword, almost as tall as her and more akin to a machete than any master-crafter blade. She wore little in the way of clothing, tight linens wrapped around her breasts and a loincloth were all that covered her body. Around her neck, wrists, and ankles sat rings of fur stained red. Twinkling amber eyes locked with the demon’s grey orbs and he laughed.
Taking a deep breath the demon asked, “who the hell are you?”
“My name is of no consequence to you,” she answered, “you sit upon a sacred site, outsider, stand and leave, I will not ask you again.”
“Tell me your name and I’ll leave.”
The dog-girl bared her fangs, but then answered, “Cinder Salt.”
Even in his exhausted state the demon found the strength to laugh hysterically. Between chuckles and gasps for air he managed to ask, “what kind of name is Cinder Salt?”
“You said you’d leave.”
The demon stopped laughing, but he kept his grin. With an overdramatic heave he hefted himself to his feet. Two swept-back blades erupted from beneath the skin on his forearm. Four feet of jet-black metal poked out from his forearm, each blade curved back towards their bearer. Kuzuru raised his arms and entered a defensive stance. “I lied.”
“Then I’ll force you to leave outsider.”
“Oh, I’d very much like that,” he chuckled softly, “bring it on Salt.”
Cinder rushed towards the demon and he responded in kind. Her massive blade crashed into the demon’s weapons and sent him stumbling across the rocky terrain. Fatigue was the demon’s greatest enemy, and although his mind was willing his body was sore and exhausted. Another heavy blow sent his world spinning as he barely managed to block the attack. The demon fell to a knee and let loose a primal scream. Spit launched from his throat and he forced himself to stand on shaking legs. Surging ferocity he charged towards the infuriating girl, swinging his blades wildy. Cinder Salt dropped low and waited for his approach. With the force of a coiled cobra Salt struck out with an open palm. She lunged upwards, coming between the demon’s arms and clamping her hand tight around his neck. Pushing forward against Kuzuru’s momentum she lifted him from his feet and slammed him into the cracked and charred earth. His body turned limp and his blades shattered into hundreds of metal shards. With a huff Cinder released her grip and muttered, “you’re lucky that I’m not allowed to kill you.”
Several hours later Kuzuru’s eyes slowly opened. A jackhammer was pressed against his skull and turned on full bore. The phantom of Cinder’s grip still clutched at his throat and each breath brought pain. Thick ropes kept him bound to a large wooden stake. On the horizon the ashen sun was beginning to set, casting a red shade across the craggy landscape. Tipis surrounded him, as did a crowd of onlookers. Most of them canine-human hybrids, with the occasional human mixed betwixt them. No more than a few feet from him a dog-person sat cross-legged. He wore a cloak of red and black scales and had numerous trinkets and baubles dangling from his clothing and body.
“Hello outsider,” the dog-man spoke.
“Oh hell, what kind of bullshit do we have here?” Kuzuru responded, “forgive me if I sound a bit hoarse, that tends to happen when you get fucking choke-slammed into oblivion.”
“Yes, Salt told me about your little, eh, ‘encounter’” he said, “do you have a name?”
“Kuzuru,” the demon answered, “so what’s going on here? Are you going to kill me or what?”
The sage laughed softly, “oh no no no, we’re a peaceful people known as Coyotl, my name is Ahanu, and this is my tribe.”
“Your friend Salt didn’t seem very peaceful.”
“Ah yes, well she is one of the guardians for our pillars, you see those spires are not mere stones Kuzuru, each one of them represents a member of the tribe.” Ahanu told the demon.
“That’s ridiculous.” Kuzuru laughed before asking with a hint of venom in his voice, “so what would happen to your little tribe if I broke free and smashed those stones to gravel?”
“Every pillar represents a soul in this community, even outsiders, such as yourself, can build their own pillars and be welcomed as one of our own,” Ahanu glanced over at the humans within the crowd, “our religion forbids the use of violence, however, should your pillar be destroyed your soul is destined for a life of strife and warfare. You adopt a warrior’s name and defend the tribe to your last breath, such is the case of young Cinder Salt.”
“I see.” Kuzuru said and scanned the crowd. Soft and pathetic he thought their hearts are filled with complacency and weakness. Children shied away from the demon’s gaze, clinging to their mothers. Sheepishly they avoided the wandering eyes of Kuzuru, his bloody stare so foreign to their peaceful existence. However not all offered fear to the curious demon; indeed the few that carried weaponry and the red bands that Cinder carried met his vision with steadfast determination. Those would be the fun ones to kill. Civilians are hardly ever worth the slaughter, bringing out only blood tainted with fear. Blood of a warrior was sweet candy to the demon’s palette, sweet battle-hardened nectar. The demon’s eyes rested upon Ahanu and Kuzuru spoke, “seems to me that you all should topple those pillars, hell if you all were even half as strong as Salt… well you’d absolutely be frightening .”
“Difference of opinions I suppose, perhaps you’ll see things our way after the ceremony.” Ahanu spoke and smiled.
“Ceremony?”
“Oh yes, we can’t just let you go,” Ahanu spoke, “you are, after all, a very real threat for us, just as the other humans who stand before you once were.”
“What do you mean?”
“All will be clear in time outsider, but for now relax and breath deep.”
The coyotl sage removed a red-leather sack from inside of his cloak. He removed a handful of silver-speckled sand and took a deep breath. The sage exhaled and kicked up a cloud of the mystical detritus. Shard of silver glittered in the air and the setting sun sent a brilliant sheen through the fog of dust and magic. Kuzuru watched, entranced by the sudden explosion of colors. His lungs greedily inhaled the sandy-powder and his body began to sweat. The world began to twist and distort, colors bled together and everyone couldn’t have seemed more distant. Ahanu’s furry hand reached through the cloud, stretching to oblivion. He placed his palm upon Kuzuru’s forehead. With words distorted and murky the sage spoke from behind the veil of reality, “sleep now dear outsider, for you shall gaze upon the abyss of your own soul and only upon discovering harmony shall you awaken.”
And with those words Kuzuru’s world shattered. The crowd, the volcanos, the pillars, Ambrosia, Renji, everything melted and mixed together in his mind. Down this rabbit hole reality is only a point in time stretched across thousands of memories and splintered into fractals. He thrashed violently against the foggy stupor, but it was quicksand and struggling only pulled him deeper.
“So for now just go to sleep outsider.”
In his travels the demon Kuzuru stumbled through the charred gate of the Ashen Steppes. His wooden sandals collected ash and his bare feet became dirty and dry. Fatigue. Exhaustion was an ailment reserved for the corporeal, and it was an ailment that he had only just remembered. This body was not his own, and yet it still screamed at him with every step. How long had he been walking? Far too long. He came to a rest among several pillars crafted from stacked stones. They varied wildly in size, but all were deliberate in construction. The demon found a spire stacked upon a base of wide stones and sat on its edge, leaning against the body of the formation. Food and water were of no consequence to the prime, but even a demon must rest once in awhile. Unfortunately there was little rest to be found amongst the sacred spires. A voice, both powerful and demanding, called out to the resting demon, “This is hallowed ground outsider, you would do well to stand and show respect!”
Covered in sandy fur a half-dog half-human hybrid sauntered towards Kuzuru. The newcomer’s face looked more canine than human; a wicked snarl revealed rows of teeth in her muzzle and two pointed ears flattened themselves back. In her hand she hefted a bastard of a sword, almost as tall as her and more akin to a machete than any master-crafter blade. She wore little in the way of clothing, tight linens wrapped around her breasts and a loincloth were all that covered her body. Around her neck, wrists, and ankles sat rings of fur stained red. Twinkling amber eyes locked with the demon’s grey orbs and he laughed.
Taking a deep breath the demon asked, “who the hell are you?”
“My name is of no consequence to you,” she answered, “you sit upon a sacred site, outsider, stand and leave, I will not ask you again.”
“Tell me your name and I’ll leave.”
The dog-girl bared her fangs, but then answered, “Cinder Salt.”
Even in his exhausted state the demon found the strength to laugh hysterically. Between chuckles and gasps for air he managed to ask, “what kind of name is Cinder Salt?”
“You said you’d leave.”
The demon stopped laughing, but he kept his grin. With an overdramatic heave he hefted himself to his feet. Two swept-back blades erupted from beneath the skin on his forearm. Four feet of jet-black metal poked out from his forearm, each blade curved back towards their bearer. Kuzuru raised his arms and entered a defensive stance. “I lied.”
“Then I’ll force you to leave outsider.”
“Oh, I’d very much like that,” he chuckled softly, “bring it on Salt.”
Cinder rushed towards the demon and he responded in kind. Her massive blade crashed into the demon’s weapons and sent him stumbling across the rocky terrain. Fatigue was the demon’s greatest enemy, and although his mind was willing his body was sore and exhausted. Another heavy blow sent his world spinning as he barely managed to block the attack. The demon fell to a knee and let loose a primal scream. Spit launched from his throat and he forced himself to stand on shaking legs. Surging ferocity he charged towards the infuriating girl, swinging his blades wildy. Cinder Salt dropped low and waited for his approach. With the force of a coiled cobra Salt struck out with an open palm. She lunged upwards, coming between the demon’s arms and clamping her hand tight around his neck. Pushing forward against Kuzuru’s momentum she lifted him from his feet and slammed him into the cracked and charred earth. His body turned limp and his blades shattered into hundreds of metal shards. With a huff Cinder released her grip and muttered, “you’re lucky that I’m not allowed to kill you.”
Several hours later Kuzuru’s eyes slowly opened. A jackhammer was pressed against his skull and turned on full bore. The phantom of Cinder’s grip still clutched at his throat and each breath brought pain. Thick ropes kept him bound to a large wooden stake. On the horizon the ashen sun was beginning to set, casting a red shade across the craggy landscape. Tipis surrounded him, as did a crowd of onlookers. Most of them canine-human hybrids, with the occasional human mixed betwixt them. No more than a few feet from him a dog-person sat cross-legged. He wore a cloak of red and black scales and had numerous trinkets and baubles dangling from his clothing and body.
“Hello outsider,” the dog-man spoke.
“Oh hell, what kind of bullshit do we have here?” Kuzuru responded, “forgive me if I sound a bit hoarse, that tends to happen when you get fucking choke-slammed into oblivion.”
“Yes, Salt told me about your little, eh, ‘encounter’” he said, “do you have a name?”
“Kuzuru,” the demon answered, “so what’s going on here? Are you going to kill me or what?”
The sage laughed softly, “oh no no no, we’re a peaceful people known as Coyotl, my name is Ahanu, and this is my tribe.”
“Your friend Salt didn’t seem very peaceful.”
“Ah yes, well she is one of the guardians for our pillars, you see those spires are not mere stones Kuzuru, each one of them represents a member of the tribe.” Ahanu told the demon.
“That’s ridiculous.” Kuzuru laughed before asking with a hint of venom in his voice, “so what would happen to your little tribe if I broke free and smashed those stones to gravel?”
“Every pillar represents a soul in this community, even outsiders, such as yourself, can build their own pillars and be welcomed as one of our own,” Ahanu glanced over at the humans within the crowd, “our religion forbids the use of violence, however, should your pillar be destroyed your soul is destined for a life of strife and warfare. You adopt a warrior’s name and defend the tribe to your last breath, such is the case of young Cinder Salt.”
“I see.” Kuzuru said and scanned the crowd. Soft and pathetic he thought their hearts are filled with complacency and weakness. Children shied away from the demon’s gaze, clinging to their mothers. Sheepishly they avoided the wandering eyes of Kuzuru, his bloody stare so foreign to their peaceful existence. However not all offered fear to the curious demon; indeed the few that carried weaponry and the red bands that Cinder carried met his vision with steadfast determination. Those would be the fun ones to kill. Civilians are hardly ever worth the slaughter, bringing out only blood tainted with fear. Blood of a warrior was sweet candy to the demon’s palette, sweet battle-hardened nectar. The demon’s eyes rested upon Ahanu and Kuzuru spoke, “seems to me that you all should topple those pillars, hell if you all were even half as strong as Salt… well you’d absolutely be frightening .”
“Difference of opinions I suppose, perhaps you’ll see things our way after the ceremony.” Ahanu spoke and smiled.
“Ceremony?”
“Oh yes, we can’t just let you go,” Ahanu spoke, “you are, after all, a very real threat for us, just as the other humans who stand before you once were.”
“What do you mean?”
“All will be clear in time outsider, but for now relax and breath deep.”
The coyotl sage removed a red-leather sack from inside of his cloak. He removed a handful of silver-speckled sand and took a deep breath. The sage exhaled and kicked up a cloud of the mystical detritus. Shard of silver glittered in the air and the setting sun sent a brilliant sheen through the fog of dust and magic. Kuzuru watched, entranced by the sudden explosion of colors. His lungs greedily inhaled the sandy-powder and his body began to sweat. The world began to twist and distort, colors bled together and everyone couldn’t have seemed more distant. Ahanu’s furry hand reached through the cloud, stretching to oblivion. He placed his palm upon Kuzuru’s forehead. With words distorted and murky the sage spoke from behind the veil of reality, “sleep now dear outsider, for you shall gaze upon the abyss of your own soul and only upon discovering harmony shall you awaken.”
And with those words Kuzuru’s world shattered. The crowd, the volcanos, the pillars, Ambrosia, Renji, everything melted and mixed together in his mind. Down this rabbit hole reality is only a point in time stretched across thousands of memories and splintered into fractals. He thrashed violently against the foggy stupor, but it was quicksand and struggling only pulled him deeper.
“So for now just go to sleep outsider.”