The sky is blue, tinged with the lord's holy rays.
The Lognyen Empire selects a man to rain as pope for the rest of his life. I wasn't what you would call the first choice. No matter how devout, I never looked good in white. But the demon invasion changed that, Pope Lamana cared more for god than his own job, when he ended his life. They needed someone to take over, someone powerful, someone with great belief. The most gifted healer was the best they had.
Fighting the demon scourge took a lot out of us, each year showed growing losses, of which could not be recovered. My power was beyond common comprehension, I was instructed by two of the strongest Paladins, Captain Izac, and vice captain Buck. Even without natural talent I grew fast, to the point that I could be classed as a Paladin myself.
Time went by, and eventually we killed all the demons but for their king.
"Your holiness, the time has come." Izac informed me.
"In lord's name Izac, if we are gonna be riding to our death we might as well be done with these pleasantries. Phill, I would be honored to die by your side." Buck argued.
"I'm afraid I'm too young to die, I haven't even lost my virginity yet. Plus I have my half-witted knights to look after." Izac jokes. '
Buck chuckled.
"Now who's unholy, look, all I'm saying is if we are gonna die might as well be as friends."
"I agree with buck, I'm afraid I don't know how many of us will make it out this time." I said.
Now Izac laughed.
"Like hell I'll let that thing leave a scratch on either of you. Have you guys forgotten who you were talking to? I'm Izac the silver knight, the slayer of dragons, inventor of the glory blade style, I'm even a mage. Now tell me who it was who killed Onix the swamp beast."
Buck sighed.
"You did."
Phill broke out into laughter.
"I'm so glad that my personal guard was able to beat the terrifying swamp beast. I mean who knows it could have taken two peasants with pitchforks to take that down. I'm glad you saved them the time."
Buck and Izac let the tension slide off them, If only Phill could be so lucky.
They left the capital soon after, the famed paladin squadron in tow.
The demon king is the size of a human, with ears of a dog, and eyes of a snake. Apart from the armor it wears its naked, it has no weapon. The beast looked at the group, those who've come to end its life, with pity.
"AK." It speaks. " kahto ogma naflead chamana aky froshne." Ending it's ununderstandable sentence with,"I refuse to pity the weak."
The beast said no more, the human voice it showed, is nothing but a mirage for the fear he admits. The thought that he could understand human tongue is a dream for those who still believe in fairies. For when you see death standing before you, the last thing you think to do is humanize him. He has no face, has no need for what he takes, elegiacal in nature, but who is to question those beyond the divine, those who we see when we sleep, the monsters under the bed, the shadows at the edge of your eye.
The knights trained with years of discipline, veterans of thousands of battles, those who have stared at death in the eyes countless times, those who have never ran, never faltered a single step, those known to die where they stand to not even let their corpse retreat. Broke, all of them ran, moved faster than a bird chased by a cat. No thoughts were given for their image, their honor, just wet steps of sprinting feet.
And so four remain eyeing each other down.