"Wait, you can read it?" Iaelie asked, disbelief clear in her voice. Daxelle paused a bit and flipped through several pages in the book. She squinted at the page and even went as far as to lick to tip of her index finger to flip the page.

She cleared her throat, "Yeah, I'm very sure I can read this."

"What does it say?" Avanth asked, slightly rubbing his leg.

"I—" Daxelle glanced at the page in front of her. It was weird; she knew exactly what the book was saying, she could read every word, but she couldn't decipher the swirling archaic letters of the demon tongue. She knew what was being described in the book—an extensive history of the demon realm—but couldn't read the individual words. "The book is basically just a history lesson. It talks about the rise of the Demon Queen, the economic growth of the demon realm, which apparently is called Dëirynås o Cyrtheāulaiâd—Realm of Demons, and the . . . reproduction ways of the demons."

"Oh, ew," Avanth made a face and Iaelie snorted.

"It's actually not as gross as you would think," Daxelle said, eyes skimming the text. "When one demon meets another demon and they fall in love or just don't have a mutual dislike—"

"Uh—" Zadyn glanced in between Avanth and Daxelle.

"Through the shared bond, a demon baby spawns—" Daxelle continued on.

"Wait, so to baby-make in the demon realm, you just have to fall in love and then poof, a baby?" Avanth asked, an eyebrow raised in skepticism.

"Like, a baby doesn't just drop out of thin air, there's demon magic involved. When the essence of the two demons meet in between them, the chaos of the realm grants the two demons a child. Using part of their essence to create the baby—which is taking part of the demon themselves—it takes something physical and mental away from the parents and that's why each demon can only have one offspring," Daxelle explained.

"What about emotionally?" Zadyn asked.

"What do you mean?" Daxelle asked, her head tilted.

"Each person has three states of being; physical, mental, and emotional. Why would Chaos take only two out of the three states?" Zadyn traced three circles in the air, the shapes meeting in the middle. It was the universal symbol of balance. Like a Venn diagram, three circles of being meet in the middle to make an organism. The symbol was mostly used by the ancient fae government when the species had thrived in this realm and was printed on every official document from that era.

"Demons aren't human or fae though," Iaelie added. "Maybe demons don't have emotions?"

Zadyn frowned, "But, that would make demons uncreated."

Daxelle waved the book in the air, "They literally live in the head of Aewar, the Chaos God, I don't think normal rules apply to them."

"Ok, enough philosophical shit, what else does the book say?" 

Daxelle wasn't sure who had spoken, but when she glanced at Avanth, expecting a questioning gaze, she found him watching Adahlia pick at the buttons on her sleeve with his brows furrowed.

Daxelle glanced back down at the Demon Spell and flipped a few pages of the history of the different monarchs of the Demon Realm. "Uh, there's this section on the Neraid Wars."

Iaelie perked up as Daxelle continued, "It only covers the demon side of the conflict though. It's about how their economy suffered, the army draft rates—which is disgustingly high—and . . . this one paragraph about the actual human invasion. There was this one person—wait, no, faerie, that entered the Demon Realm and managed to kill the Demon King. Their name was . . . Queen Malika."

"What were they queen of?" Zadyn asked.

"It says they were Queen of Myiraz," Daxelle answered.

"Like, the entire realm?" Iaelie questioned, her eyebrows flicking up. When Daxelle nodded, she let out an awed breath, Wow.

"How did they kill the Demon King? I'm assuming his death ended the war, right?" Iaelie's questions kept on coming,  "Did they kill him with their powers?"

"Uh—" Daxelle flipped through the pages frantically, her eyes skimming the page at lightning speed. "They killed the King with something called the Crystalline Arsenal, but don't ask me what it is because the book isn't being specific. The Neraid Wars ended after both sides lost so many soldiers, that they couldn't fight anymore. And, uh, yeah that's all."

"What the hell was the war even about? What did they have to keep fighting for that they wouldn't stop until the very end?" Iaelie muttered, rubbing her face.

"It . . . doesn't say," Daxelle mumbled.

Iaelie raised an eyebrow, "Did the demons really write a book about the superiority of demons and how the humans were pathetic in the war, but not specify what they were even fighting about?" Daxelle shrugged.

"Well, at least we know demons can be killed now," Avanth interjected.

"By the Crystalline Arsenal though, which we know nothing about," Daxelle corrected. Avanth heaved a sigh, why were fighting wars and demon drama so . . . complicated. Couldn't problems just solve themselves? Avanth sat up. Of course not, problems don't work that way. They keep on coming until you're forced to solve them yourself or everything spirals down and you're left in a pit of flaming Hell with only your dark memories as company. And don't forget Death himself flying circles around your head like a vulture, taunting you with the idea of life and promising only unalivement.

"What are you thinking about?" Adahlia asked, having noticed his eyes going unfocused.

Avanth turned to her, surprised to see she looked alright—or, alright enough. "How problems can turn an entity into a bird."

+ + +

Hours after their conversation, they scoured the house and found some snacks left over from Zadyn's old sleepovers. After dumping all the remaining food on the living room table, they all took a seat and turned on the tv.

"What channel do you want to watch?" Zadyn asked, holding the remote angled at the sensor on the tv.

"Uh, anything's fine," Iaelie replied, leaning back and kicking up her feet onto the worn-out ottoman. Zadyn glanced at the tv screen projecting the latest news on Eyra. The two newscasters were currently debating the effects of good sleep. It was two am.

"I don't mind," Daxelle answered.

"C'mon, any channel, I don't care what it is," Zadyn said, tapping a finger repeatedly on the 'guide' button on the remote. "I'll watch anything."

"You choose," Avanth opened up a stale chip bag and offered a chip to Daxelle.

"No, it's fine, you guys choose," Zadyn told him.

Daxelle popped a chip into her mouth, "It's your house, you choose."

Zadyn pursed his lips, "But, you're the guest. So just choose a channel." Daxelle rolled her eyes. "Literally any channel. I don't care what we watch." Zadyn's finger tapped the remote faster now, the soft noise filling the now quiet room.

"I'm not sure, what do you normally watch?" Daxelle asked.

"I watch anything that's on," Zadyn answered. "Do you have a favorite show? Or a genre of something to watch?"

" . . . No, not really. I don't really watch tv," Daxelle responded. She turned towards Iaelie, Avanth, and Adahlia. "Do you guys want to watch anything?" All three of them shook their heads. She sighed.

"Eenie, meenie, miney, mo—" Daxelle sang, the children's song recognizable by all the petty arguments resolved by this simple rhyme. At the end of it, she aimed a finger at Zadyn's chest. "Alright, Zadyn, guess you're choosing." He glared at her without a hint of menace. "Go on, just flip to a channel and we can watch that."

He sighed and pointed the remote at the tv, about the push the button when Daxelle flung out a hand. "Wait!"

He frowned, "You want to choose something?"

"No, look at the news!" Daxelle cried, motioning for Zadyn to turn up the volume. Avanth turned his attention to the screen, silent reading the subtitles running along the bottom of the screen. The easygoing newscasters' expressions suddenly turned serious, the overall mood of the report dropping.

"Just now, a young man has been found lying near a gutter on Main Street. Reports are still coming in, but so far, we know this man has been gravely injured. Identity is unknown. Stay tuned for more information after this short commercial break," the female newscaster reported, her face stoic, not a hint of concern showing. Almost immediately, the screen flashed and the woman was replaced by a tube of rash cream.

"How the heck are they going to say something like that and cut it short for a commercial break?!" Daxelle shouted, flipping the tv off with the hand not reaching for another chip.

"Another attack? Do you think it has anything to do with the demons?" Iaelie asked, frowning at the screen currently displaying an ad for a 20% off sale at a women's designer store. Wow, so interesting. Totally worth replacing a deathly assault with.

"Probably, it sounds like the other reports," Avanth responded.

"Do . . . we just wait here for the commercial break to be over?" Zadyn asked. When Daxelle nodded, he mumbled, "Stupid commercials and stupid news."

There was a tense silence as the rest of the advertisements rolled. Medicine, baby diapers, restaurants . . . it all flashed across the screen. The cheerfully happy people on the tv that had absolutely nothing to do with the service or product came and went, their faces a blur. Two heavy minutes passed before the screen cut back to the news at hand. The two news reporters were still sitting there as if nothing had happened, their backs straight and hands folded atop the desk.

"Welcome back to the Eyran News, if you just tuned in, here's a recap of the latest stories," the woman gestured to the screen behind her where a series of clips from earlier that day played. Daxelle groaned and flung a pillow at Iaelie. In return, Iaelie smacked Daxelle's arm.

"Why can't the news people just . . . get to the news," Avanth mumbled. They all glared at the screen as the short collection of news flew by.

"Alright, now that you're all caught up, we've just gotten updates on the dead man found near the gutter. Everyn? To you," the man saluted the camera, the live report switching over to a person bundled in warm clothes standing in a dark street. A flashlight was shining on their face, the setup rushed and sloppy.

"Thank you, Garytt. Now, I'm here at the very alley where we found the man unconscious just mere minutes ago. The body has been sent over to governmental facilities in the city for further examinations, but his body was found slumped over the curb," the news reporter pointed over to a bloody spot on the ground, their face impassive. "We are unable to find the murderer at this time, but the man was definitely attacked. Bite marks were found lining his neck, similar to a necklace of thorns. His body was bruised and there were scars everywhere.

"As the scientists run their experiments for DNA fingerprints and possible drug use or poison, we'll check back in. In the meantime, enjoy this short segment by Jocie about the implications of youth cancel culture. Thank you, and to you, Jocie," Everyn said, smiling as they signed off.

"That . . . sounds like a demon attack? Or rather the possessed person attack thing," Iaelie said quietly, her voice resonating around the still room.

"Did you see where it was? I didn't catch the street sign," Avanth asked.

"I could rewind it . . ." Zadyn offered, but Adahlia spoke up before he could even touch the remote.

"Briargrove, 1018 Yazara Street," she mumbled, her gaze meeting Avanth's eyes briefly. He nodded his thanks and they all got up, patting crumbs off their laps, and practically ran out the door.

There were definitely setbacks to the whole being fae business, but it also came with amazing opportunities. All five of them ran as fast as their legs could carry, their fae speed and strength guiding them along the dark sidewalks of Eyra. The cool night breeze whipped their hair back as they ran top speed to Briargrove, 1018 Yazara Street. In a brief flash of color, they passed by homes, shops, and restaurants, their bodies simply a blur in time and space. There was a certain type of freedom that Avanth felt as they all ran together, their feet hitting the concrete in a matching rhythm. A sense of flying that could only be achieved by racing across the city in the early morning.

Maybe Avanth was being a bit too specific, but as he flew over the streets of Eyra, there was a slight freeing feeling of something long-hidden coming out. Like a reassuring breath of darkness.

As their extreme sprint came to a slower pace, the streets branched out into narrow, dark alleys that gave way to a dead-end where murderers lurk.

Avanth jogged a few steps as they all came to a sudden halt. He pointed at the corner of a street where the swinging sign for Yazara Street hung on a tall lampost. Without saying a single word, all five of them gathered at the entrance to the dark alley leading into a pit of death.

Avanth sniffed the air delicately, finding a slight tang of blood in the air. Oh, goodie.

As a whole, they took a single step into the narrow alley and continued into the darkness, their fae eyes naturally adjusting to the dark. As their pupils dilated, they scanned the ground for the stain of blood near the gutter that had been pictured on Zadyn's tv.

"Uh, guys?" Avanth asked, standing in front of a gutter stained with blood. His whole body was trembling, a dark feeling creeping over him. "I-I think I found it."

There was a slight shuffling noise as Adahlia, Daxelle, Iaelie, and Zadyn stood by his side, all five of them forming a semicircle against the sewage hole. Like a protective barrier against the recent death that still lingered in the air.

"Do you see anything?" Daxelle's question was barely a gasp, a sharp intake of breath.

A cool breeze drifted into the dank alley and touched the back of Avanth's neck. He reached up to his throat and released a shuddering breath. A different type of silence settled over this secluded part of town, the reality of what they were facing hitting them all. Something that could kill, something that would ruthlessly tear you apart while delighting in your pain. A monster that hid in the dark, their worst fears turned tangible.

A familiar chill ghosted over his skin, the darkness of another room filling his vision.

A room where bad things happen.

"Avanth?" Adahlia whispered, her hand on his shoulder shocking him back into reality. "You ok?"

"Y-yeah," he muttered, stepping closer to her, just to feel the presence of another being with him. Something that didn't evoke old memories.

"Did whatever kill the man . . . hide in the sewer? Or . . . run?" Iaelie asked, her voice trembling. The darkness of the alley pressed into all of them in different ways, old fears surfacing and turning this dark branch of road into a place of living nightmares.

"Can you feel it?" Iaelie reached out both hands for the people beside her. Locking fingers with Avanth and Daxelle, she took a deep breath. "I can't describe it, but don't you feel the agony in the air?"

Avanth didn't know if sniffing the air would help him detect any pain drifting in the alley, but nevertheless, he inhaled deeply, the musty tang of sewage burning his nose, mouth, and eyes. Holy Hari, crap smells terrible.

He didn't dare close his eyes, in case the darkness could seep into his eyes and affect his vision, turning everything into varying shades of black and gray.

Ok, don't freak out, but I hear footsteps, a voice whispered into his head. A faint whoosh noise echoed in his head and four swirls of color flew in and joined his consciousness. Purple, yellow, green, and blue.

Do you think it's the newscaster coming back to film another segment? Iaelie asked.

I don't think so, Zadyn muttered.

They all stayed completely silent, a single pair of footsteps nearing them. The footsteps eventually faded away and they all released a breath.

Slow clapping suddenly filled the alley, a whisper of darkness moving beside them.

"Congratulations, idiots, you've figured out, like, 14% of everything," a gruff voice cackled. There was another hiss of movement and Avanth felt the presence move to the opposite side of them. "Kids aren't as smart as people give them credit for. I've been leaving hints for you around the city, and you've just figured it out?"

"Figure w-what out?" Daxelle asked.

And when the voice spoke again, Avanth could have sworn the person whispered directly into his ear. "The murders, of course."

"So, you killed the man?" Iaelie interrogated, her grip on his hand tightening a bit.

"Well, what did you think? Shrek killed Gryffin?" the voice guffawed. "No, darling, a green ogre totally murdered a traitor."

"Don't call me darling," Iaelie gritted out.

Avanth tried to recall the feeling of running across the streets of Eyra—tried to think of anything just to get this man out of his thoughts. He remembered the wind on his skin, the chill of the night, and he tried to imagine he was sprinting—sprinting away from everything. The darkness in the alley called to him, promising him freedom, but those were all half-hearted lies.

Free like the wind, free like a bird.

Avanth shut his eyes, the darkness swarming him now.

You will never have to cower under someone else, as long as you becoming the Shadow King.

Thousands of voices screamed into his head, yet everything was also deathly silent. It was so very weird. Promises of wealth, of love, of friendship filled his mind, each offer from the dark becoming more and more absurd.

Would you like some peanut butter? There's a storage unit full of it just a block away. If you took control, we would lead you to them.

50% off of designer pencils at the mall!! But, which mall? Take control and we would show you.

Free math homework problems? We can teach you pre-calculus, like, 25% of us have a master degree in the maths.

But one shadow lingered in the back of his head, waiting for all the other wisps of dark hiss their offers before drifting forward to the center of his mind. The quiet draft swirled around his mental self, a warm breeze whispering over his skin. The shadow lingered in front of his face and Avanth could image a solemn expression painted on this scrap of darkness.

We could offer you protection. But especially for your friends. You can save them.

The offer didn't immediately fade away like the others, but lingered in front of him. Protection. A word that meant everything yet nothing at all. Three syllables, mashed together to form a word that promised something useful.

Deal, he whispered. The shadow drifting in front of him circled him in a cyclone of darkness, the reassuring gloom seeping into his very being of self. 

Thank you, the swirl of blackness seemed to say as its very essence filled his soul. Fragments of darkness splintered his self as a whole and repaired them all in a different order. A protective form around his core. Protection.

The darkness sealed the cracks in his soul, mending it with a dark power that only healed. A retransformation.

His eyes flew open and when he heard the sound of the voice taunting Daxelle, he threw out his hands and like dipping his fingers in a cool pond, the shadows surrounding them rippled outwards revealing the man crouching in the corner of the alley like an absolute coward.

[ um would you consider this like a mature book? or young adult because honestly i would have read this story even if i was 12 or 13, but maybe i was just a morbid kid ]

may 02 2022𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖍𝖊𝖊, 𝐁𝐚𝐢© azalyme ₂₀₂₂