Death among Demons: Forever Demon 4

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
The Final story in the Forever Demon Series...

Submitted: July 10, 2008

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Submitted: July 10, 2008

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Death among Demons: Forever Demon 4

Payton Smith

 

Garenth walked next to his daughter, Sno. The ground they walked upon was damp from the evening’s storm and was more patches of moss than actual grass. They were both wearing fur clothing and had swords belted at their waist, Garenth also had his famous blade, Slayer, in a leather sheath strapped to his back. They were walking slowly away from a large castle, that seemed more of ruins than an actual palace for it was falling to pieces and bits.

Sno grabbed her stomach and slowed her pace. Garenth put his arm around her and looked down at her stomach, and said, “Who is the father?”

“He was a great man named Joseph,” Sno began to say, “he could wield a sword and survive the strongest of opponents, he could shot an apple of my head with an arrow, and he took care of me better than anyone, besides you that is. One night, not but a few weeks ago, an assassin had been running around Keriki and the king asked Joseph if he would personally track him down and give him the ultimate punishment. So he left as if it were a simple thief only taking a sword, a bow, and a few arrows. After a few nights of rumors and hunting down the assassin, he found his hiding place in an old abandoned house.”

“The assassin obviously was way above Joseph’s fighting skills, because the guards said they found him dead with his sword only half unsheathed,” Sno at this point had several tears falling down her face. “Now I have to raise this child by myself.”

“You have me for help, my daughter,” Garenth said and stopped her, “I know it may seem that I wouldn’t be the kind of guy for raising a child, but you’re here and your mother was not.”

“Thank you, father,” Sno said and Garenth took her in his arms, “Tell me though, how did you take the Resteivour Kingdom?”

“Well it was I who had slain King Duvora a year ago,” Garenth said, “I had left for some time doing my search for you and when I thought hope was lost and that King Duvora had killed you as well to make me angry, I came back here to see what was going on. It seemed Duvora had no heir to the throne but only a Stewart that had taken the throne for the time being until a king was throne. I decided it was time for a new ruler and since I was a citizen of Resteivour I was entitled for something. It took me half a day and with a dead Stewart, I sat upon the throne.”

“Are you going to continue the practice of the Demon, the Clouds, and the Shadow?” Sno asked and looked up at her father who obviously hadn’t thought about that before.

“No,” Garenth said, “to many people have gone through too much pain in trying to learn those arts, so from now forth I will not put anyone through the anguish.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sno said and put her hands on her stomach.

“Proud Lord Garenth,” a voice from behind the two said with a chuckle after and then a heavy coughing, “it’s a shame you will not be king for very long, for you see it’s my right to sit on the throne, I have royal blood. The only thing is the blood is not direct from Duvora himself, but still royal it is.”

“And by what proof do you have, old man?” Garenth asked. “You could just be a crazy mind that thinks he is rightful to the throne.”

“Oh no, oh no,” the old man said, “I am the rightful man for the throne, its mine, you can’t have it, I’ll kill you if you get in the way.”

“The more you talk crazy old man, the closer you are from me taking your breath from your lungs,” Garenth said. “I suggest you leave and I would suggest you find some help for your insane old mind.”

“Oh, but Lord Garenth you could not take my life,” the man said and coughed harshly, then returned, “for you have only learned the Demonic Art, sure it is a great fighting style and the sword is flashy, but you can’t overtake me. You see you are too young to understand my point, back before my nephew Duvora became king there was five fighting styles taught under the Resteivour Kingdom. The Art of the Cloud which best used pole weapons, the Art of the Shadow which used magic as the prime weaponry, the Art of the Demon you know the most while using the power of fear and pain as a weapon, then there was the Art of the Dead which used the living dead to do the dirty work, and last the Art of the Phoenix which used the power of destruction and fire.”

“They banned Phoenix and Death practice because,” the man was saying before he started his harsh coughing once more than continued, “because everyone was disgraced that Death Knights were using the dead to do work and they thought that dishonoring. As for the Phoenix Knights after a large war with the Goblin Empire and most were killed off, the remaining few went insane and began to burn everything the Demonic Knights were sent to kill them off for good.”

“Well that’s great and all, old man,” Garenth said and drew his sword from his waist, “but you lost complete track of what you were doing. Now that you have said you are Duvora’s Uncle, I can’t just let you live. Whether you are or aren’t I can’t let anyone find out or that would lead to some bad things.”

The old man drew a dagger from under his cloak and held it ready for a fight. Gareth took a few steps forward and held up his sword. As he lifted up his sword a rumbling sound came from underneath the ground. Beneath Sno’s feet a skeletal hand came up and grabbed her by the ankle. Skeletal remains began to pull themselves out of the dirt and all grabbed Sno. Garenth turned and stared at his daughter. One of the living dead held a knife at her throat and another held one at her stomach.

“I see what you were talking about now,” Garenth said and turned around to face the old man who was walking closer to him, “if you want this piece of shit kingdom anyway I’ll trade you.”

“Good, Lord Garenth,” the old man said and coughed so hard it seemed like he would stop breathing, “I give you your daughter if I get the crown to Resteivour and I get the weapon you have placed across your back.”

Garenth stuck the sword he held into the ground below and took Slayer off his back. He handed it to the old man and he took it with unease for it was heavier than he expected. The undead crawled their way back into the dirt and Garenth walked back to Sno and embraced her. The old man drew Slayer and put the tip flat on the ground. Garenth watched as the red inscriptions grew brighter and brighter. Apparently the old man was talking but Garenth was so focused on the sword he couldn’t hear it.

The old man stopped what he was saying when he saw that Garenth was not paying attention. He looked at the sword and with a shock he tried to throw it to the ground. It wouldn’t leave his hand and the inscriptions on the blade moved up the sword and onto the old man’s body. Garenth took a step forward and looked over the old man who was now at this point screaming as the inscriptions burnt all over his body. A stabbing pain shot through Garenth’s pain and he turned to see an undead holding a knife that was stabbed into his back. He sighed for he saw that it was poison tipped.

Behind Garenth the old man’s screaming came to a stop and there was a simple thud of his body falling to the ground. The undead faded in the wind as dust and Sno ran up to her father as he fell to his knees. She held him tight with tears coming down her face.

 
*****
 

For every powerful being there is an ending, whether it is short and unexpected or long and seen ahead. Yet for every powerful being there is a replacement, it is just a matter of when their birth comes along.


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