Ancient tale

Seated on the edge of her bed, Chara was engulfed in thought. Vengeance was hers to claim, yet she knew not where to begin. Her mind was a haze, the faces of her enemies lost in the smoke of a distant past. But then, a memory stirred, and in a flash, she was on her feet. She dashed through the castle's corridors, the door to her chamber slammed shut behind her.

Rounding the corner, she came face-to-face with King Apollo.

Dressed in his customary crimson robe, with a crown upon his head, Apollo walked with a slow, measured gait. But at the sight of Chara, his stride quickened, his steps hastened.

Without breaking her stride, Chara's voice sliced through the air, rabid and ruthless. "Where is Lady Duvessa?" Chara's blood boiled with vengeance, her boldness a byproduct of Duvessa's blood.

His feet halted in their tracks, his spine chilled, his throat gulped.

"S-she's in the solar," Apollo stammered, his voice trembling with fear as the chill continued its icy journey down his spine.

Chara's eyes met his, her glare more potent than a thousand daggers. With a single glance, she stole his courage, and without another word, she strode away, her footsteps determined.

Watching her disappear, Apollo sighed, his face twisted with disdain.

"I hate that look in your eyes," he murmured, shaking his head. "Just like your father's." His sneer was a mirror of his contempt as he walked away, his shadow darkening the already dim castle halls.

Chara was gone, vanished like a ghost. But the chill she left behind lingered, a harbinger of the reckoning to come. And as Apollo's footsteps echoed through the castle, he could not shake the feeling that Chara was not finished. Not yet.

***

Within the solar, Duvessa reclined on the sofa, her right hand wrapped around a glass half-full of blood. Facing her sat Marina, legs crossed, a closed book in her hands. Their conversation unfolded.

"We were already fighting a losing battle," Duvessa mused, "so I believe the summoning came at the opportune moment."

"Do you think they might follow us?" Marina asked.

"We are nolonger in Daekosmos," Duvessa countered, "this is a different world. The only concern in our hands is Azazel. We had been putting up a fight, even without magic, only for him to start rebelling against my orders." Her words were laced with contempt. "Now he's taken control of the South of this kingdom, but I plan to crush him."

"And your goal is to control the entire kingdom?" Marina inquired, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"Indeed," Duvessa confirmed, swirling the crimson liquid in her glass.

"But," she continued, "my true aim is to acquire magical powers."

Marina's brow furrowed in confusion. "Isn't that impossible? I thought Nons simply couldn't wield magic, unlike the Habents?"

"No," Duvessa replied, her voice like ice. "Once, all demons in Daekosmos possessed magic. But a rebellion formed around six hundred years ago, demanding a new ruler. The rebels grew in number, becoming too powerful for the Demon Emperor to ignore. He saw them as a threat and declared war. They were many, and at the same time strong. To maintain his grip on power, the Demon Emperor used his Creo-kinesis magic to create a crystal that would seal the rebels' magic powers." Duvessa paused, her gaze shifting to a faraway, invisible place. "Two of the rebels survived the Emperor's magic, the leader of the rebellion and his faithful assistant. They fought back, and in a dramatic turn of events, the leader seized the crystal from his grasp. He thrust the crystal into the arms of his assistant and told him to escape with it. But the assistant refused to abandon his leader. Spying a female rebel nearby, he rushed to her side, pushing the crystal into her hands. And in a last act of defiance, the assistant used all of his remaining magic to open a portal, allowing the woman to escape with the crystal. The rebel leader and his assistant were killed by the Demon Emperor, but their sacrifice gave the other rebels time to retreat, settling far away and forming a new domain. They were the first Nons, with no magic, and their descendants—us. Those who remained with the Demon Emperor became the Habents, the 'haves' who still possess magic." Duvessa swirled her glass, her expression hard. "Our ancestors lost their magic, but now, in this world, there may be a way to regain it."

"And what of the crystal?" Marina asked, her voice hushed.

Before Duvessa could respond, the solar's door opened with a soft click, revealing Chara, who strode in with a determined step.

"Take me to the west," she said, her tone brooking no argument.

Duvessa turned to face her, her voice gentle as she spoke. "Right now? Is there something you need to do there?" She paused, her expression thoughtful. "Do you still want to…"

But Chara cut her off, a flash of irritation in her eyes. "It's not that. They're already gone, and I can't bring them back. You know why I need to go."

"Come now, there's no need for that tone," Duvessa said, arching an eyebrow. She turned to Marina, a smile playing on her lips. "Marina, could you do this for me?"

Marina rose to her feet and nodded. Facing Chara, she asked, "Will you be needing an akuji?"

"There is no way I'm riding that hideous creature," Chara scoffed.

Duvessa's light laugh, verging on a giggle, was almost enough to spill her drink. Shaking her head, she said, "You know, your attitude sometimes…"

Marina sighed, exasperation in her eyes. "Fine, I'll carry you then. Just don't complain when my back starts to ache."

Chara rolled her eyes. "As if you could even feel that."

With a final chuckle, Duvessa waved them off as the two exited the room, shutting the door behind them and leaving her alone in the solar.

***

Silent as shadows, six men moved in a single file through the dense forest underbrush. At the front marched the young man, followed closely by Daniil, with four more men trailing behind them.

Suddenly, a chilling cry broke the silence. One of the men at the rear had crumpled to the ground, hands grasping at his ankle. A snake had struck, leaving a vicious bite wound that oozed crimson.

Before the man's wails could echo too far, the young leader whirled, his sword hissing free from its sheath. With a single, merciless stroke, he sliced the bite victim's head clean from his shoulders, stifling any further outcries.

The remaining men recoiled in horror, save for Daniil, who stood stoic and unflinching.

The young man returned to the head of their formation, sheathing his blade and resuming their trek, the rest of the group following in tense, fearful silence, their steps cautious and deliberate to avoid a similar fate.

As they emerged from the forest's embrace, their eyes took in the rural expanse before them: farmsteads, quiet and seemingly abandoned. They crept forward, their footfalls soft against the earth as they weaved through the farm structures, shadows flitting among the abandoned husks of homesteads.

Suddenly, the silence was broken as Daniil accidentally stepped on a dry twig, its sharp snap punctuated by the shrill whinny of a nearby horse, startled from its slumber.

The group, apart from the leader, froze, hearts pounding as the shrill cry echoed across the desolate farmland. In the tense silence that followed, they could almost hear the demons' ears prick up at the sound, seeking its source.