“Bloody Descendants”

"What are they going to do Ira?" Zail kept pushing her to confess as she stood there battling the dilemma.

"Alright fine." She said finally mustering the courage. "Just promise me you won't do anything."

"I will do nothing of the sort."

Ira Lugh was from a very powerful branch of the Lugh family, second only to the Kunghaya. Her life although not very long, had been extensively eventful. As a child, she spent the majority of her time training with swords, battleaxes, spears and all kinds of weapons till she obtained her powers, after which the weapons were accompanied by magic.

Often time families who are higher on the family tree would have their children thrown into the cellars that kept hold of the demons that were captured during the wars. Unlike mankind demons live for thousands of years so seeing a demon's corpse usually was a result of battle.

As cruel as it may seem, it was worse as only a few survived the full two days in that pit. Some may argue about comparing it to the literal hell, at least the hell picturized in human literature and having been through what people call 'Hell on Earth' Ira just like Mis Dyna was afraid of only a few.

And so, the fact that Ira was afraid and trembling when Zail looked at her said a lot more about Zail than it did about her. But again, being able to have a rational conversation with the devil, the sworn enemy of mankind was a commendable feat on her part.

"A few years after mankind was gifted with a range of powers." She began explaining after taking a deep breath. "It was found that the gifts can be passed on through blood. Following this, all five Kunghaya (the first ones who were granted the powers.) imbued various weapons with some of their powers that came to be known as Mahyahn and it was on picking those…"

Zail interrupted her, telling her to speed things along.

"Yes, basically over the years humanity became more dependent on Mahyahns to use their powers eventually the Mahyahns were the determinants of their wielder's power."

"More the powerful Mahyahn the more powerful the human is."

"Yes, exactly. Now more than a thousand years later, aristocracy and the pride of the nobles got mixed into the matter…"

"What are you getting at Ira?"

"What I am trying to tell you is that, the way the world is now, even though a Mahyahn chooses you…"

"A human can choose the Mahyahn as well."

"Exactly," Iran confirmed his hypothesis.

"But what does that have to do with the descendants?"

"Well more often than I would like to admit, the descendants would snatch away superior Mahyahns from the branch members of their families."

Zail looked at her in disbelief and disgust. "Oh! you vile and repulsive creatures. And you hypocrites call us evil." Zail looked away, laughing at the pitiful savages known as humans. "What happens to the one from whom the Mahyahn is taken?" Questioned Zail.

"It renders them powerless, had to settle for a weak Mahyahn, a joke among their peers and sadly for those who put up a fight often gets injured if not killed."

"And you all sit there and watch?"

"We can we do? It is beyond us." She said trying to defend herself and the others. It felt to her as if she was trying to defend mankind in a trial where the Devil was the judge.

Zail who was now a little agitated and angered, paced in between two of the seating rows. "They are going to do it again, aren't they? Yes, yes it makes sense, there will be no one but the students tomorrow."

Ira nodded in agreement.

"Bloody descendants!" Zail stormed out of the library cursing the descendants.

On his way out his eyes rested on an old painting, considered the pinnacle of art in the old ages. But not for Zail, for him it was riddled with all kinds of inaccuracies. Demons danced on the corpses of slayed humans as more of them charged towards their cities only to be rescued by the gods who came in from the clouds in their flying chariots and horses.

"Tell me something Ira." Zail turned to demand an answer to the question that followed. "Why do you humans view us as evil slaughterers and gods as riotous saviours?"

"Is it not true?"

"Well, clearly you haven't met any of the gods."

****************

It was the middle of the day but no one could tell with it being so cloudy that the time of the day was indistinguishable. It was cloudy with a high chance of rainfall. Aytar Zoaran, the fire descendant and Hader argued as they were on track to someplace.

"Oh! like you could handle it." Commented Hader making fun of Aytar's idea.

"I am not weak Hader." Replied Aytar infuriated by his response.

"You couldn't even handle that orphan. What makes you think you can take Joan."

"You did not see what happened, you weren't there on the battlefield." He explained trying to defend his honour. "That boy is not just an orphan. He… he is hiding something."

"Excuses, excuses."

"I am not making excuses…" Aytar was abruptly interrupted by Hader.

"Anyways it is too risky to have either of the 'infamous two' come near our plans." The two descendants had walked through the second-floor corridor to now have reached the stairwell where Hader stopped on the first step down with Aytar behind him. "Thankfully Malik's injuries have kept Joan busy or else we would not have gotten this opportunity."

"I guess you are right."

Hader chuckled arrogantly at the acknowledgement. "Oh you fiery bastard, I am always right"

It was clear from Aytar's expressions that he was not pleased with Hader.

****************

It was now drizzling rain and weak sent of soil reeked the air. Teachers and all the other faculty due to be in the king's court had made it to the west gate of Aydenhall where horse-drawn buggies as transportation were arranged. Professor Ira Lugh appeared less responsive than usual to Dyna and others.

A few tiny and cool droplets of refreshing rain poured on Michaela as she walked towards the infirmary ward. those tiny droplets complimented her light radiant skin, raven black hair and beautiful purple irises. She rushed inside the premise of the infirmary as the rain increased its pace.

The fragrance of wet flowers that she carried, dirt and leaves soon mixed with a strong stench of rubbing alcohol and the phenyl used for cleaning the place. The sound of rain pouring in, dripping from the rooftops had almost completely disappeared as Michaela entered Malik's room.

Michaela's smile wasn't the only bright thing in the room at that moment. She caught them cuddling each other on his bed. The room was the same. Curtains were drawn, letting in only the minimum of natural light, the rest came from the two mini chandeliers and a few torches, it was cosy and the two agreed.

"Ella!" yelled Malik embarrassed having noticed her standing at the door. "Do come in dear."

"Well, I am sorry. I did not mean to interrupt you two."

"No, no, you are not interrupting anything." Assured Joan with her cheeks turned red who now sat on the stool next to the bed.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure of having you here?" Inquired Malik also signalling her to sit on the empty stool on the other side of the bed.

"Nothing. I just came to check up on you guys." Replied Michaela handing him the flowers.

"Oh, that is very sweet of you to do that." He thanked her while admiring them. "But you are lying. Aren't you?"

Michaela denied that accusation instantly.

"Oh, come on, tell us." Persisted Joan.

"Okay, okay. It is about Zail."

"Ooh, what about him?" She piqued Joan's interest in where this was heading.

"Well, he is nice."

"He is isn't he."

"You see that is why I came to you first." Michaela threw a sheathed sword, the sword that came to Zail of the Mahyahn choosing.

"What about it, Ella? It's just a sword." Inquired Joan investigating the sword.

"Yes Joan, it is just a sword."

Joan realised the point she missed. The weapon Zail wielded was just a sword.

/****************\