THE DEMON

As Kai lay on his bed that night, he tried to remember the incident that had gotten him cursed. It hurt his head to even think about it, trying to recall something - anything - about the hand that had pulled him out of the icy water. What made him wonder was his motive behind walking on the ice that morning. He had never so expressly disobeyed his guardian. Why had he been so incredibly impatient to cross the lake? Rubbing his now-throbbing temples, he tried to give himself over to sleep. Uncle Philip seemed unworried, and Kai deemed him the authority on most things, so it didn't make sense to fret over it.

It still worried him, although, that he could not do magic. That, in itself, was strange because Kai was terrible at it. He found it unnatural and disliked applying himself to its practice in any capacity. It was one of the few things he hid from his uncle, afraid of seeing disappointment in his eye. It should have been a relief that he now had an actual excuse to not practice magic, on the contrary, Kai felt slightly handicapped. This annoyed him.

The feeling of helplessness only got worse over the next couple of days, to the point that he started having trouble sleeping. When he did succeed, it was because his body gave over to exhaustion. He saw strange dreams that evaporated from his mind the moment he opened his eyes. One night, after waking up from a restless slumber full of just as restless dreams, Kai felt his temper rise. Patience was not his strongest capability, and lack of sleep made him worse. When he attempted to put himself under again, he realized it wouldn't come, and his patience wore out completely.

"ARGH!" he shouted, utterly frustrated, "If I get my hands on the bastard that made me walk on the ice that day, I'll kill him!"

He was quick to assign blame to this unknown entity that had somehow made him walk on the ice. It was not like he was capable of making such silly mistakes. Denial, unlike patience, came easier to him.

Kicking off the covers, he attempted to read a book, all the while thinking about how to get his life back to normal. By noon, his mind was made, a plan formed in his head. He dressed and made his way downstairs to the inn, inquiring about his uncle. He was told that Philip was in the village somewhere, meeting a friend, and wouldn't be back home till late. Seizing his chance, Kai pushed the door to his uncle's quarters, making way to the study. He walked to the shelves, trying to figure out how he could find a book that might help cure him.

He browsed, taking care to put the books carefully back into place. It was sunset when he realized that the entire thing had been a fruitless pursuit. Reining in his frustration with difficulty, he went over the catalog in case he had missed something. Catching the name of a title that seemed relevant, he went back to see how he had missed it. He realized it wasn't on the shelf. Before he could slam the catalog against the table in frustration, he realized there was a name written in front of the book's title.

"Heraro Koshi," he muttered, "So, he has the book."

Heraro was Philip's neighbor. He had lived in the village as long as Kai had known him. He was a diminutive old man, with a quiet, scholarly air. His uncle got along well with him. Kai looked out the window to see whether it was too late for him to call on Koshi. Noting down the name of the book, he made his way out of his uncle's house, flexing the fingers on his cursed hand. The markings seemed to transform in the shifting light. Shaking his head, Kai pushed open the door to the inn, and made to exit when he was halted by his uncle's voice.

"Kai! Come here, my boy!"

Kai turned; a bit confused at the slur in the sound. What he saw made his jaw drop. His uncle was sitting on the sofa at the far end of the inn, long legs sprawled, face flushed a light pink. He was sitting with some of the other village elders that Kai thought were his friends and a woman Kai had never seen before. Some of the gathering was fast asleep, their heads lolling. But Kai had eyes only for his usually unbearably calm uncle whose sharp blue gaze was now hooded because of alcohol.

"Uncle," Kai said in quiet shock, moving to stand in front of him, "Are you drunk?"

His uncle regarded him through almost-closed eyelids. It was obvious that he was having trouble keeping them open. Kai felt a slight tremor of worry. He'd never seen his guardian drunk, so out of focus. Before he could say anything, his uncle began in his slurry speech.

"What was that, boy? You worried about me drinking?" he snorted, "You?"

Truly concerned now, Kai ignored the other people around them as they got up to leave, the lady he didn't know brushed by him as she made to stand.

"You shouldn't even be drinking," Kai told his guardian in an angry whisper, "The physician said it was bad for you."

His uncle's face contorted. It wasn't an expression Kai had seen before. "Oh, to hell with the physician."

Kai tapped his foot on the floor, wondering how to get his uncle to see reason. In his defense, he had never been placed in this position before. As his uncle brought a glass to his lips, Kai sprung forward and carefully pulled it out of his grasp.

"Please stop, Uncle," he said, hearing the worry in his own voice. He was grateful when his uncle didn't fight him for the glass, but he did snort a derisive laugh.

"Hear hear," Philip murmured, his lips quirked, "the demon child is worried about me drinking..." he slumped to the sofa, his eyes closing, "How very...."

And then he was fast asleep.

Kai clenched his fists and shook them in silent frustration. It had been a very tiresome week and he wanted it to be over with. Exhaling, eyes closed, he opened them to his sleeping guardian. As he took in his sleeping form, the anger bled away into worry again. Going into his room, he returned with a blanket and placed it over Philip.

"I'm not a child anymore, Uncle," Kai murmured as he tucked in the sides of the blanket, thinking about what his uncle had called him. And demon child? His hands paused on the blanket, as he finally took that in. He wasn't that much of a hellion, was he?

Shaking his head, thinking it was something that the alcohol had brought on, he made his way upstairs to his own room, before kicking off his boots. He wondered if he should have put his uncle to sleep in his own bed, but realized he wasn't going to be able to carry him. His uncle's words suddenly came back to him, reverberating inside the walls of his head before they made some semblance of sense.

Demon child.

Demon, demon, demon....

A memory came back to him unbidden, rough around the edges. A huddled group of children looking at him with open fear in their eyes. Kai, looking at his small hands as a child, at the blood welling in his palm from the wound on his head where a stone had hit him. Wicked whispers around him.

Stay away!

Look at his eyes...

Demon child.

Suddenly, the memory shifted, flew into another, and Kai was sitting in a strange green clearing that was hauntingly familiar. Something dark flew towards him, descending from the sky. It was a strange creature with horns that twisted upward, a thin tail that curved sinuously behind it, and large bat-like wings. It moved like lightning and landed in front of Kai with a thud. With a start, Kai saw that it was him. If not him, then his own shadow, given life. The creature, the Not-Kai, shifted its face, and Kai saw fangs in the black. They regarded each other for some time, and then the creature spoke.

"You called me, Master."

Kai was trying to make sense of this when the creature spoke again, but this time it was a strange language that Kai could not understand. The creature was silent for another second as it turned a circle around Kai. Then it tilted its face, the gesture so inhuman that Kai felt himself shudder.

"In any case," the shadow creature continued, "I, Kenviar Varth Mortem, will serve."

Kai brought his cursed hand to his face to see that the earlier markings were gone, and in their place, there was another symbol, darker and smaller, in the center of his palm -

Kai woke up with a start, his pillow and sheets wet with sweat, his breath coming in gasps. Trying to calm down, he took in a lungful of air, reminding himself that it was a dream. In a few seconds, he had calmed down enough to bring the cursed palm into the moonlight.

The hair at the back of his neck rose.

His palm was unmarked, clean, any hint of the cursed brand erased, as if it had never existed. But it also did not have another mark, as it had had in the dream.

Kai felt his eyelids close again and was already half-asleep when his head hit his pillow. This time, his sleep was dreamless and more peaceful than it had been in days.