How many days has it been? How many weeks? Months maybe? Time was truly irrelevant here in these ash filled woods. The smell of burnt wood no longer bothered him now that fresh air was nothing more than a distant memory. The ever present chill of the land left him numb as he walked through dead trees and destroyed grass awaiting to the call of the Huntsman. The demon wondered if the sadistic creature was getting bored of him, if he was running out of ways to kill him. Yes…he could remember slightly…the agony of getting caught during the hunt.
He could remember being skinned, his flesh slowly and painfully being slit open and ripped from his body. Having his legs broken only to be feasted upon by the cwyn that obeyed their master. Having his throat chewed threw as Huntsman used his body for his more carnal desires. Having his skull smashed in. Being impaled and ran through. Being decapitated. Tortured He couldn’t remember the many inventive ways the Huntsman had ended him, the rest seemed like a blur. Like something that happened too long ago. He couldn’t even remember why he was here..in this forest of the Huntsman’s creation, his personal hunting grounds that never let him rest. He had something didn’t he? Something he was suppose to share? With..someone? The demon gripped his now gnarled horns and whimpered, the very pain of trying to remember his purpose almost as excruciating as the huntsman’s horn that soon rang out through the twisted dead tree branches. There was no time to think then, only to run. And run he would as always…and get caught as always.
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Another reprieve from the hunt. Another small break to let the tension and terror of hearing the horn again claw at his frayed mind. The boy held his stomach unconsciously now, the memory of seeing the hunter clawed hand pull out his intestine foot by foot still in his mind as the god used his body much like a toy, reminding him how he wasn’t even a man before him, just his prey. If only he could remind him of why he had to suffer, why the demon couldn’t just give up, to feel the need to run and struggle every single time his war horn called! What was so damn important that drove him to try to survive instead of ending his own existence What was it, why was it so hard to remember the purpose…his purpose. He wasn’t given purpose.
Yes…he needed to deliver something, something special, something vital to someone. His fevered eyes scanned the area, looking about from the burnt husk of trees and nods to himself as the pieces started to come back together. He could feel it! Then the horns sounded once more, the quickly approaching sound of feet trampling over the grass encroaching. “not yet…I was about to remember Not yet!” he’d cry out as the first Cwyn launched at him from the fog with maw open and fangs snapping.
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The demon stood there in forest, vacant of expression, barely a breath passing over his lips as his black blood weeped from his slender form. His negative hued eyes fixated on the ground as held himself. No sound stirred him, not even the blare of the Huntsman horn to signal that their game had started again. The approach of creatures soon followed, the canine hungry breaths of Cwyn emerging from the fog to surround the near catatonic demon. They exchanged glances to one another, confused as to why their prey didn’t run, didn’t flee to give them the joy of chasing him down and claiming their reward of his flesh and blood. Even more confusion rang in their feral eyes as to who drew the blood of their prey before the huntsman horn had cried, the scent giving them an all to easy a time of finding his location amongst the hunting grounds. Even the Huntsman emerged from the shadows, looming over them all as his dark cloak shrouded his imposing form. his burning eyes stared at the creature he had maimed and massacred, at first so feisty and now just a shell of himself. It was disappointing considering the many more ways he wanted to capture his prey. With a small motion of his wrist, the Cwyn put aside their confusion and pounced.
Their yelps shook the barren tree tops as they were halted in mid lunge, their gurgled growls and panicked whimpers now giving the dead area sound. The huntsman’s smile reappeared, those brilliant dagger like teeth shining through the darkness like a pale moon as he bore witness to his prey’s clever move. His black blood that he must’ve spilled himself… that the demon had let pool on the charred ground around him…had animated itself in less than a second into deadly thin spires. Spikes that impaled the Huntsman’s creatures before they could reach the solitary boy. Such treatment of his cwyn would usually bring about his wrath, his anger and fury…but he could see it in the boys’ eyes as he finally lifted his head and glared at him. That fire that burned in them, hotter than the flames that had destroyed his forest and the homes of others.
The boy ran once more the moment the huntsman marched forward, careful of his steps as to not end up like his fallen cwyn. Of course the chase wouldn’t be long, even the slender demon couldn’t travel far with such loss of blood. He found him against one of the large and burned oaks, nearly out of breath. The Huntsman moved in slowly letting his form shroud the boys vision while he looked over his visage. yes… he was sure he’d have some more fun with him, the body of a Seid was practically made for such a use despite its gender.
“I remember….I remember now….” The huntsman was given pause as the boy spoke before he could wrap his claws around his scrawny throat. “I remember ..my purpose. I…am a Talon, a Seid, a Prince….to my Mistress…and..I won’t be broken. I won’t shatter until I fulfill m-my….my…” his words would cease as he began to cough, choking on his own blood. Such strong words though, far too strong for such a weak being to be speaking. The huntsman’s claws wrapped around the boy’s neck, lifting him and bringing him to his twisted smile. Suddenly…pain. His smile turning into a grimace as a bit of pain streaked through him.
Another trap, the black blood that had gathered on the bark of the tree where the boy had laid. It turned into a large spike…they demon letting it impale himself for it to pierce the huntsman, for him to leap back and leave his prey’s body hanging from his trap…he had used himself as bait. A mix of fury and jubilation stormed in the deities form as he saw the last signs of life leave the demon, leaving his lifeless body frozen with the look of determination in his eye.
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He awoke to the sound of the horn, no time for a break now! He had to run! he had to run…and fight the best way he knew how. He’d dig into his wrist while scanning the trees, only pausing to quickly inscribe a glyph with his blood to throw off his pursuers and leave them a nasty surprise. Yes, he had to fight against them, he had knowledge to deliver to his mistress. he would do it no matter how many deaths he had to undergo. No matter the pain, no matter the terror, he wouldn’t fail her.
Failure was a luxury he couldn’t enjoy. He was a talon, a creature devoted to serve his mistress. He was a Prince, to stand as an example for his clan. And he was devoted to the one who gave him this life, the joys, the pain, and the torments that came with it. He was in love with his Mistress, his Goddess. Even as the Huntsman’s shadow loomed over him and sent the chill of imminent demise into his core, he’d let those thoughts be his lifeline to sanity. That he wouldn’t fail her, he wouldn’t fail Vedis.
The Ephemeral Prosaist 