A Strange Man

"You are strange."

The otherworldly voice, which seemed to echo from the deepest part of hell, resounded in Allen's head. It was emotionless, yet not. It was icy cold, sharp like a knife, and raspy enough to scratch the eardrums. But at the same time, it seemed to carry an indescribable agony, almost as if the daemon shouldered the pain of all living beings. The shaman had to admit that even he, who prided himself on his unshakable mind, had been taken aback the first time he'd heard Dangu's voice. Had he been an ordinary mortal, Allen had a hunch he'd have fallen on his knees like a broken doll, and his mind would have broken, shattered into pieces.

Mere mortals shouldn't give ears to such ethereal voices, for it was like peeking into the secrets permeating the underworld. It wasn't something living beings were allowed to do, and if one didn't heed the warning, it brought about severe consequences. Divine punishment was among those.

However, this rule didn't apply to Allen. The shaman was perfectly healthy, even after exchanging lengthy discussions over lengthy discussions with the daemon. That could be why Dangu called him strange, but it could also be for another reason altogether. The comment had come out of the blue, and Allen couldn't tell what the daemon referred to or what he was thinking of when he blurted it out. It was sometimes hard to follow Dangu's train of thought as his mind appeared to be all over the place.

"Am I?"

"You are."

"How so?"

A lazy smile lingered on Allen's face, showing no hint of fear or uneasiness. It felt like he was talking to an old friend, not a malevolent being.

"If you put your mind to it," Dangu said, eying the shaman from the high tree branch he was sitting on, "you could get rid of me, couldn't you?"

Allen's smile deepened as he answered by waving the hand with the two oaths intermingling on its back. The snakes embracing the fern seemed to move ever so slightly, almost as if they were alive. They opened their mouths, seemingly to take a bite out of the fern. However, they didn't manage to; their fangs came to an abrupt halt near the leaves. Although no sound echoed, they seemed to hiss in annoyance before returning to their initial positions. They grew tranquil once more, unmoving and lifeless as if to say their previous antics had never occurred. It was an unsettling sight.

Following the little display, Allen stared straight into the daemon's eyes, letting a moment pass as if to allow the underlying meaning to sink into his mind. Seconds ticked by, and Dangu didn't react much. He didn't move an inch, nor did he say anything. If one didn't know better, they could have mistaken the spirit for a statue. It drew a sigh out of the shaman, who took it upon himself to point out:

"Isn't it that why you made me take an oath first thing when we met, so I wouldn't harm you?" Allen paused to raise an eyebrow. "Your instinct is so spot on it's terrifying. You're almost like a small animal in the wild, intuitively defending itself against a perceived predator."

"It'd have been great if it had also been the case when I was alive," Dangu snorted, a flicker of hatred flashing in his eyes as he ignored the shaman's barb. "If you're aware, don't play dumb. Oaths are good, but they aren't foolproof. Most of the time, they have loopholes people can use to their advantage, and we both know you aren't a fool. The oath you took when we met can easily be contoured, considering what you have at your disposition."

"Ah, so you knew."

Dangu clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"So? Why aren't you doing it? If you're waiting for me to lower my guard, it won't happen."

"Hm, I don't think it's my place to decide whether or not you should be exorcised. It's not like you've been seeking revenge without a good reason, although the collateral damage is a bit…"

"There would have been no collateral damage if these geezers hadn't played tricks."

"Can't you own to what you've done, at least?"

"Did they own to what they did?"

"Fair enough."

Allen nodded, aware that trying to reason with a wrathful spiritual entity wasn't easy. It was already a miracle Dangu was clear-minded enough to hold a conversation and restrain his anger. And although Allen said he could indeed exorcise him, it wasn't something he could do with a snap of his fingers. Dangu wasn't a weak spirit per se, and if he decided to fight back, the casualties, which were already high, would skyrocket even more. Allen knew he and his aides would survive without suffering much damage, no matter what kind of a battle with Dangu ensued, as the likes of a daemon couldn't defeat them. But it wasn't the case for the Black Moon tribe and, of course, his mate. 

At the end of the day, Allen would rather not sacrifice Nyell for the greater good. If anything, he'd gladly brought hell forth if it meant protecting his mate, although that was something better left unsaid. He had a hunch Nyell wouldn't be much into the cold-hearted aspect of his personality.

"I am curious, though," Dangu said after a moment of silence, malicious mirth dancing in the depth of his purple eyes, "will things play out as you've planned, or will they get out of hand and go my way?"

"I may be a shaman," Allen chuckled, "but clairvoyance is one of the few things I'm not good at. All we can do is wait and see how your nephew and brother-in-law act from now on."

"You're making quite the gamble. The deadline is coming up soon, too."

"Well, there's still a few days left."

Two weeks ago, Dangu had agreed to stay put for a month and allow the tribe to deal with the cancerous beings that were the elders themselves. They first needed to realize what the geezers had done and why the tribe was going through so much because of them. Dangu thought it was a lost cause, for everyone in the tribe had forgotten his existence. How could they figure out their leaders had sent an innocent fellow tribe member to a horrible death when they didn't even remember he was ever born? And then used his sister, whom he admired and loved more than anyone else, to get rid of him? He could still vividly remember Hulien's face as she bawled her eyes out while holding onto his dying body. She was covered in his blood after having pierced his heart with the sacred dagger of their tribe, and she, herself, had gotten badly hurt during their fight. His mind had been too troubled to recognize her at the time. He only got around when he was about to breathe his last. His sister's sorrowful sight that was then offered to him had been more painful to bear than his incoming death.

"By the way," Allen said, snapping Dangu back to the present, "shall we make a bet?"

"Isn't the tribe's future enough as a bet?"

"Except for my mate and his family, I don't really care for what happens to the rest of the Black Moon tribe," the shaman nonchalantly admitted. Daemons were as sensible as other spirits to lies, and honesty was always the best way to get through to them, for lying was a sure way to hell. "So, you know? I would like to get something else if I'm to win this little gamble of ours."

An annoyed sigh was Allen's answer.