Normality

NORMALITY

"Once upon a time, there was a vast circular city on the emerging continent, with buildings so high as to touch the sky. Everything was in gold, overflowing with riches, food and textiles, fine arts, and dances. The music rang from morning to evening in the general cheerfulness of the population. They were all happy and serene until one terrible day, the demons set foot in the beautiful city, destroying and trampling everything on their way."

Some children bring their hands to cover their tiny mouths, their eyes wide open for fear, while watching a black-horned puppet moving awkwardly between tongues of fabric as red as fire, shaken by the wind, on the stage. 

The storyteller waits for the whispers to subside and continues the narration. "The evil demons drove all the humans out of the city, locking them out of the golden doors and leaving them to the hardship of weather. Our ancestors then began to build new villages, smaller and more modest, so that the demons didn't try to steal their houses again, but it was not long before that, tired of being locked up in the beautiful city, they went outside to hunt humans. They found and imprisoned them, burning their homes, eating their children, and locking them in metal cages!"

One of the young listeners cries, frightened by the man's voice, who smiles and adds, "Then, seven men rebelled against the fearsome five Great Demons!"

The children's voices rise joyfully, "The seven Clan leaders!"

"Exactly! The seven heads of the main clans: TaShan Yao, the Sun of the Taijàng; Lúthien the Wise, of the Zhiliào; Galion, the Ferrous of the Duatiè; Aegnor, the Merchant of the Quìn Shuì; Nuin the Hunter, with her faithful blue wolf of the Xùnfù Zhè; Delrid, the Soul of the Lìng Hun; and finally Phinion, the Grass of the Quìanquian." Each character is presented with small colorful puppets, which move on stage between the cheerful laughter of the children.

The storyteller continues urgently, "Our seven heroes bravely faced the five Great Demons: Pestilence, Famine, War, Deception, and Madness." Five figures with grotesque and scary features appear on the cardboard stage, approaching the seven humans.

"With a swift leap and the seven Artifacts, our heroes hit the evil demons, killing all their enemies. With great courage and dedication, they closed the doors of the beautiful golden city, which sank into the earth, sealing them inside! Even today, if we go north, beyond the grand spirit forest, we can see a round red lake that fills the whole area where the great city used to be. And five of those seven clans now peacefully rule our continent, maintaining harmony and order."

The story ends with the defeat of the demon puppets, who have been beaten by the seven heroes, unleashing the children's jubilation and the applause of the adults who stop to admire the puppet show.

A girl snorts at the story and moves quickly away from the corner of the busy shopping street.

The city of Aryo has become an anthill. In the last 50 years, it has expanded twice and has at least four times the past population, not to mention the continuous comings and goings of merchants all over the Rèn. Being a port city, every kind of person passes by, creating a melting pot of accents, smells, and flavors that make her head spin.

Rei looks at the big central harbor, the largest in the entire region of Aqua, with about 100 larger ships and several little ones belonging to smaller clans. These humans forget too quickly. Five major clans… of course, they never talk about the other two. 

The Quìanquian, from the Tartan region, had been destroyed a long time ago by raids of angry demons, probably tired of being enslaved and chopped into pieces to sell on the black market. 

Humans hunted down the Taijàng. Hanged and locked up at the foot of the Iron Mountains, deprived of all property and freedom. They were the Sun Clan, shining on all the others, yet they fell into disgrace under the name of Rishi of the eclipse for being deceived and weakened by energy corruption. But now it's all burnt, and Rei can still feel the smoke filling her lungs and the screams clouding her senses.

She's not too fond of demons due to some unpleasant experiences, yet she believes they're way better than humans. Demons are a minority in a world built against them. They have no leadership, being their nameless Great Ones stuck in the demonic continent, nor the strength to fight against those monkeys. But after all this time, things should have changed, and if it weren't for those powerful relics, maybe it would have been.

Rei adjusts the long, black high ponytail and grabs the summer cape's flaps to cover her face and nose. This camouflage is what she most often uses for business and goes well unnoticed. With big black eyes, very long eyelashes, and fair skin, her figure is about 160 centimeters tall. This is the only thing that can't be altered, yet the rest is quite different from the original look, tainted with greys, white, and a pair of amethyst eyes. Peculiar colors even for a demon, representing a condemnation for a fubai: a simple life corrupted and chained in the Rishi. 

For the mission, she is wearing a suit with dark leather pants adherent to her sinuous body and a blouse with a U-neck that comes out soft from the metal belt tight at the waist, where she has hung a canteen, and a wallet well-hidden under the cloak. A small detail is always on the tip of her left ear: a minute silver hoop earring from which a half moon hangs, a childhood heirloom whose sun-shaped sibling has long since been lost.

With a frowny expression, the girl crosses the street to finally enter the tavern she is looking for. There are so many people that she has to dodge to make her way to the bar. Everything smells so human. I won't stay long.

She orders a light beer and a plate of fish, as one of her usual informants told her in the neutral zones. Her eyes wander around, looking for someone who could resemble who she has in mind. They'll find you, he said; all you have to do is follow instructions. Yet time passes, and nothing happens. They will find you my shit! The masked fubai thinks nervously. After several hours, there isn't the slightest trace of anyone.

Rei pays with annoyance and comes out of that shit-hole, walking fast towards the harbor. Maybe the smell of the sea will be strong enough to make her finally breathe in peace. She crosses the huge sidewalk, now bare from all the ornaments and stalls of the market. Few humans are still there because of the curfew that falls in the evening. Rei has heard of it, but now that she's there, it all seems pretty strange, especially in a place like this. She walks silently among the shadows of the buildings, hiding her presence from the guards, who go around lazily, and finally arrives at the port. Down the long staircase that leads to the stone base, she hides between piles of wooden boxes.

"Get a move! We don't have all night." A guard makes an impatient gesture with his hand as he paces back and forth in front of a ship just docked.

The other humans begin to fiddle with the thick wooden door, opening the big locks with vigor and mastery. One of them gets in it. His nose curls in disgust as soon as he puts his face inside. "They fucking stink." He dips a hand off the ship's void. Rei didn't see much from her position except metal armor and wood. Yet she immediately understands what the cargo is: slaves.

The guard's arm returns to sight as he forcibly drags a battered demon behind him.

The slave trade is widespread these days.

A demonic body can have various uses for humans, as a slave, as pieces to create armor and weapons, and even as ingredients for reinvigorating or rejuvenating potions with temporary effects. Rumors say that eating demon meat leads to the development of greater shinat control. Bullshit since everyone knows that that kind of energy is the prerogative of humans. It can be defined as the very energy of life, and it's harmful, if not deadly, for a demon that manipulates corruption, an inner energy called rasuah.

Fucking animals. 

Maybe that's why there is a curfew in the city; many people are here, including families and children, and this is not a good show for them.

The fubai rolls her eyes, hearing subdued groans from the demons. They certainly drugged them, and judging by the visible wounds on their bodies, they have already been beaten several times. She walks away from that corner of the pier and looks for a quiet, dark place to rest. This job is hard enough, and there's no need to feel guilty for strangers.

After a few minutes, Rei finds a small, rickety warehouse full of ropes for docking, sits on them, and stretches her arms, closing her eyes, now lilac again: their true color. Her mind returns to the story of the birth of the seven heroes. Anger floods her veins, making her constantly turn on that uncomfortable, arranged bed.

Suddenly, a rustle draws her attention outside the warehouse. Her breath gets so tenuous that she seems not to breathe. Someone sneaks into the small dark room and goes near her, rustling paper noise next to her ear. In a split second, she stands up, pointing a knife straight at the mysterious figure's throat. Faking to be harmless worked.

"Wait, stop!" he whispers with a pierced voice. The smell reveals he is a demon. Rei stands still for a while, then lowers the dagger and forcefully grabs the newcomer, crushing him on the stone floor. "And who would you be?" she hisses.

A nervous chuckle in response. "A friend, the one you were waiting for."

Her eyes quickly moved to the sheet of paper he had left near the bed of ropes. The moonlight shows a faded map. She lets him go, slowly covering the blade and crossing her arms over her chest. "Couldn't you just give it to me?"

The four-eyed demon gets up, brushes his clothes, and then shakes his head. Adjusting the little glasses on his nose, he comments, "The person you're looking for doesn't like to publicize his location, that's all."

Rei snorts, walks out of the small warehouse to better observe the map, and turns her nose to its lousy quality. "Did you draw it? It's too rough."

"It's the only one around."

"Why?"

He looks at her, smiling, and his lips tighten as he sees the fubai caressing the dagger's hilt. Patience is fast slipping away. He steps back and chuckles nervously, "Y-you can't get close enough to draw a better one. There seems to be a barrier of rasuah so strong as to confuse even us demons."

The news makes her amethyst eyes wider. Fascinating.

"That's it. My payment, please." 

Rei nods, brings a hand to her waist, and then freezes and asks, "How long have you been following me?"

"It's a secret of business, my dear!" the demon gloats, foreshadowing a shower of money. 

In a single moment, her fingers are so strong on his neck that his eyes turn reddish and round because of the increasing pressure. Her smile gleams at his confused look as she tells him in an angelic tone, "Since he's so powerful, it's better to ingratiate him immediately, don't you think?"

Her face gets dangerously close to the demon's pale one, and she brushes her lips on his. "Thanks for the map." Then he feels a rash of heat filling him inside as a river of magma burns, leaving destruction at her touch. In a second, the demon's body gets softer under her hand and falls to the ground as an empty sack. She walks over him, settles the backpack on her shoulders, and leaves. 

Now Rei has an almost decent track to follow.

"Everything is ready for departure, Sir."

"Good. I'll leave the rest to old Zhou. I'll see you in a couple of weeks at the auction."

The purple-haired demon hands him the light summer cloak, resting it on his broad shoulders, and then she knots it on his chest. He follows her with his icy blue eyes, smiles slyly, and asks, "Is there anything else?"

Wu looks up at him and nods. "One of my group said that the humans increased patrols. A demon's body was found at the docks. It'll be harder for us to infiltrate Aryo."

"Just for a dead demon? There are plenty of them, so I don't see why one more should make a difference."

"He wasn't enslaved or even registered in the region. They attributed it to a rivalry between our race, and the possibility that there are others on the loose alerted them."

He brings a hand to his chin, touching the coal scales with his fingers, and ticks on them thoughtfully. "Interesting. You know who he was?"

"One of our usual informers, an acquaintance of Lì. When I told him about his death, he seemed sad and said you knew him too."

A-Yin raises an eyebrow interrogatively, so Wu sighs and raises a hand at the height of her nose. "More or less tall, skinny, light gray skin, small horns, with glasses. According to Lì, he was a pretty bright, enterprising little fellow."

"Slimy, he means!" he chuckles. It's undoubtedly that snake of Ronny."

They were parts of one of the first demon expeditions he recovered from the clutches of humans ages ago. Yet unlike Lì, the bespectacled demon had thanked him and vanished shortly after. Of course, he had him regularly watched by Wu's group, among many others. He knows he worked as an informant; they caught him once selling maps of his safe house. Lì really saved his ass back then.

"Do you have any idea who did this?"

"Not one of ours."

The leader snorts and walks to the front door of the meeting room, followed by Wu. "I'll take a look around. Have you booked the hotel?"

She nods. "Shaka has a private room starting tomorrow morning."

He grabs her from the back of the head, stroking her short hair and approaching his lips to her forehead. "That's my girl."

Wu barely blushes and looks down. "Sir, if I may say, Why do only Zhou and I know about this alias?"

"It's just a little secret."

She remains silent and lets him slip out of the room. Elusive as ever.

Morning light hits him as he steps out of the secondary pavilion. Today, there is a little wind. A-Yin moves, annoyed, a lock of black raven hair in front of his eyes. The sun makes them shine with crimson-red reflections as he walks toward the center of the unpaved place. As usual, he wears clothing suitable for travel: brown boots, dark trousers tight enough not to hinder his movements, and a white shirt that brings out the tanned skin. Yet a pair of circular earrings glisten silvery on his lobes, a detail that he hides in the hood when traveling to avoid annoying encounters along the way. He's carrying a long NanDao sword on his left side and a leather bag on his shoulder, with a change of clothes for when he arrives at the water capital, Aryo.

From his look, nobody would give him more than 26 years old, in human terms.

"Sir!"

"Are you leaving already?" 

Various minor demons greet him with joy; he reciprocates with a smile and looks for old Zhou. If I leave without saying goodbye, he won't leave me alone when I return. He finds him talking to some kids. Their looks make A-Yin understand that the old demon has started to nag about his long and tedious explanations of plants and organic chemistry. They don't seem very cheerful, so much so that Zhou raises his voice with an angry face. The leader comes smiling. "Are you done muttering like a caryatid? Senility is such a tragedy."

As soon as the children hear his voice, they smile and take the opportunity to escape the old demon's narrow educational grip.

"What are you babbling about? A little bugger is what you are!"

He laughs at his words. Throughout the shelter, the old demon is the only one who dares to talk to him like that, and he lets him do it; after all, they have known each other since he was nothing but a brat. "I'm on my way out."

"Thanks to Diyu, I won't have to see your ugly face for a while!"

"All this bile will make you die, old fart."

"Just fuck off." mumbles the elder, so A-Yin smiles at him and walks outside, getting through the second circle of walls, passes the homes of the minor demons, and enters the forest.

The shelter consists of three different areas: the outer one, with housing, farming areas, and warehouses with food and primary necessities; the intermediate one of the secondary pavilions, which serve as barracks and lodging for the younger demons or the ones who don't have a family to look after, as well as the fighters; and finally, the innermost, with the large central pavilion, where he dwells. Zhou is the only one who roams freely inside; sometimes, even Wu and Lì enter, being middle demons.

The whole refuge is hidden by the forest that extends for several kilometers in all directions except south, completely rocky and only accessible through underground caves. There are so many labyrinths that humans didn't map them, even after centuries. On the other hand, A-Yin, too, has never made one, exploring only those closest to the safe place.

The leader has disseminated the perimeter of devices that detect the passage of humanoids and confuse their senses, making them lose their way. Everything an enemy can do is die by his minor demons' hand or go back. Those devices are runes directly attached to him through his rasuah of blood as an extension of his own body. That's why he hasn't changed the disposition of minor demons: families and kids aren't so many, and elders can stay in peace, away from the screams and lousiness of the training ground. Nobody can enter the refuge unless the boss allows it. 

...

Aryo is a three-week journey at a human pace, and A-Yin can safely cover the same distance in two. Just before arriving, the demon stops away from prying eyes and undresses from the sweaty and dirty clothes of the trip. The tanned skin shifts into a lighter complexion, and the musculature moves under this new layer in a softer form, suitable for humans. His abdomen swells slightly as soon as the chest is covered with a thin and soft reddish layer, which the demon shows in a white shirt with a deep V-neck, with gold decorations and emerald stones along its edges and the cuffs of the long sleeves. The trousers are of a nice brown color, vaguely tending to orange, with a high waist and an embellished belt. The face immediately acquires more marked and masculine features, with a sharp jaw softened by a dark red beard, narrow green eyes, and a pointed nose. With one hand, he pulls back his red and short wavy hair, making his double row of black metal horns disappear, then he tucks his shirt into his pants and wears clean boots. His appearance is entirely different from a few minutes ago, perfectly embodying a human merchant in his best forties.

He puts his old clothes in the leather bag and makes them disappear under a lavish blue cloak, then returns to the street among numerous humans who stroll quietly under the sun. Summer is coming soon, and the temperature is higher here than at the shelter due to the greater proximity to the sea.

Shaka heads towards the city's large entrance gates. When he gets close to them, the guards stop him for identification. At the sight of his sly face, one of the controllers hurries to block the other two and makes a half bow, "Excuse me, sir, they are recruits."

He raises a hand with golden rings and smiles, "Don't worry, can I enter?"

"Sure! Let him pass you, brats." The two young guards hurry to free the passage, and the demon enters the city undisturbed.

It has been about ten years since he traveled around the various human regions with this disguise: a charming, mundane merchant. There is hardly anyone who doesn't know him. With a comfortable pace, he wanders through the rich city streets. Stalls and merchants fill every crevice. Between the bright eyes of the population, everything seems full of life. Aryo is the largest port of the Rèn continent and calls to itself people from all over in a colorful and beautiful jumble of cultures, colors, and scents. He loves this place; although many others are as beautiful and different, none feels so comfortable. If it weren't for those minor problems of slavery, exploitation, and the black market, this city would seem to come straight out of a fairy tale.

He should go to the hotel where he's booked a room as usual, but it doesn't feel like it. There's something more interesting to do. Soon, Shaka reaches the port and sees a handful of city guards gathered on the right side of the place, blocking the passage to the curious. He comes at a bouncy pace, hands behind his back and a nerve-wracking smile. The new guard's chief immediately notices him and twirls his eyes, so much so that the fake merchant fears they may remain pointed behind his head forever. This idiot amuses him. Little Mark has made his career!

Dark skin and curly, well-cared hair adhere to the head, where two deep honey-colored eyes are looking annoyed at him. He has fleshy lips and a small but well-proportioned nose compared to the rest of the face. He'd be a nice guy if it weren't for his temper. Mark makes large, impatient strides and points a finger at him, "You can't stick your nose in it! Pay a visit to the old ladies of the noble neighborhood. Maybe some husband will take you out for good, and this could finally be a good day."

Another jovial-looking guard joins them and puts a hand on the angry one's shoulder, pulling him to himself. He is older, and Mark respects him greatly, so he tries to control himself. "Come on, boy, don't be so grumpy with our good Shaka."

The merchant looks at him with his bright green eyes and chuckles. "Don't worry, Aron. He didn't want to be rude and must have had a rough night."

Aron winks at him and then takes the red-bearded friend arm in arm, waving a hand to Mark and saying, "We old people are going for a beer. I'll leave the rest in your hands, Captain."

The merchant accompanies the man's greeting with an annoying nod of the hand to Mark, who curses in a low voice and goes back to work.

"He's got a pole up his ass."

Aron looks amused and comments, "He is young and inexperienced. Rumor has it that his older sister died in an accident because of demons. He was with her and saw the scene, so he decided to become a guard."

"And now he's taken your job, Aron."

"I'm in a well-deserved retirement, you idiot. He's good at it."

Shaka moves his hand under the white shirt, pulls out a pack of cigars, offers one, and adds with a doubtful voice, "He is very young." 

The other shrugs. "Madame Shuì likes him–" he accepts the cigar and looks at the friend, who's lazily putting another one between his lips "–and so does her son."

The merchant lasciviously glances at him in understanding. "I get it. Do you have a light?"

"How the hell do you never carry matches when you smoke so much?" Aron picks one from a pack in his trousers and helps him light it up. With a sly look, Shaka answers, "I always ask the kind women I meet on my way."

"You know one more than the devil, you old weasel!"

Giggling, the two go to a tavern to drink a little.

Once seated and with the beer served, the fake human drinks a sip of light beer, wipes his red mustache, and then asks, "What happened at the port?"

The man doesn't even pretend to be reluctant to talk and informs him, "A demon died last night. It wasn't one of those recorded, and he seemed to be quite wealthy from the clothes. His body was a mess, and somebody literally melted him down. The funny thing is that it seems that fire burned only him internally, without causing external wounds." He smiles coldly and adds, "We had to open him completely. In all my long career, I've never seen something like that."

This information draws the demon's attention, who asks, "Do you already have some leads to follow?"

Aron shakes his head and takes a long sip. "We think it's a skirmish of a rival demon."

"Why not a human killer?"

"Could you truly think a human can do such a thing?"

"Well, I've seen a lot done by men."

"I repeat: burned from the inside. Moreover, the victim had a mark on his neck, too, as if he had been strongly taken by it and couldn't move. If the killer was a man, they'd still be equal at best, no matter how much he didn't look like a fighter. Whoever attacked him was much stronger than he was."

Shaka nods while the sides of his mouth curl up. Interesting.

"But there is something strange."

"What do you mean?"

"Last night, they unloaded a shipment a few steps from where we found the body. There is no doubt that it happened right there, so why didn't the culprit intervene to help the cargo?"

The merchant scratches his bearded chin and answers, "Maybe because he was alone."

Yet the old guard shakes his head. His look is lost in the almost empty mug of beer. "Given his obvious abilities, it wouldn't have been too difficult."

"A demon who doesn't help his peers."

"Exactly. Of course, they are bloody beasts. It wouldn't be so strange, yet most of them have always shown the will to protect their kind. Maybe I'm wrong; they're demons, after all." Arom drinks his last drop of beer, and Shaka imitates him, remaining silent. It is not an act of revenge among demons, that's for sure. Ronny was an informant, so he sold something to someone he shouldn't have and was killed for it. The real question is, what information did he give away so dangerous that he paid for it with his life?