Yorré Barren was four years old when she saw the flowers bloom at one of their loveliest, at least she thought so. They were really just stray daisies and dandelions that she and her siblings, Fae and Axel, would scavenge for from the sides of buildings and cracks in the stone street when they couldn't go running through the hills outside the town's walls. Nevertheless, she would bound through the streets, a small bouquet of little flowers clutched in her hand, with such a smile that one would have forgotten the troubles of the world. Whenever they raced back to their house (Though it was more like a small castle or mansion) Axel would always win, just a bit faster than the other two, though his flowers were often ruined. Their mother, Aria, would walk in to check on the ruckus to find the three scrambling to find a vase to put their small bundles in, Yorré settling on a particularly fancy wine glass. Aria offered a smaller (and much less fragile) glass instead, gingerly placing the wilting, tired flowers inside. Laughter would follow their little games throughout the day and into the evening until they went to sleep wrapped up in their mother's wings as she read them a story. The flowers, now soft and drooping. They were the prettiest those days.
When Yorré was twice that age, flower picking wasn't nearly as exciting an activity. She and her siblings had grown their wings by now and spent a good many of their days practicing and soaring over the fields rather than running through them. The feeling, as Yorré could later describe it, was liberating to have the wind rush against your face. But children, even avians, are still children and on this particular day, they decided to play hide and seek. While Axel was better at running and Fae at flying, of the triplets, Yorré was the best at hiding.
Her favorite hiding place was in what you may call a basement but what her father used as a 'hidden office' of sorts whenever he was home. They weren't meant to know about it but Yorré found it by following her father one boring afternoon. The room had filled bookcases from wall to wall, so many that they almost intimidated her. Almost. She was more excited to eventually know what each book guarded within its binding (she figured she probably wasn't old enough yet when she tried to read one of the books. Yorré didn't even understand the first few sentences). A desk was set in the back center of the room, with small cabinets on either side filled with all sorts of smaller oddities that wouldn't be fit to place the larger or more grand specimens on the tops of shelves and tables (on which small tools were laid neatly). It was quiet in the room, enticingly so, and it became a place she could call her own. Yorré often snuck away to the room whenever she could, whether that be on a quiet afternoon or, in this instance, during a game of hide and seek.
Yorré wished she hadn't hidden in that room this time. Though, I am sure this story couldn't have happened otherwise.
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Around the same time Yorré, Fae, and Axel were convincing their mother to start counting, A demon started counting his steps, bored as he walked with the campaign of soldiers. Only the repetitive sound of horse hooves was heard among the company, their minds dead set on their assignment: Kill the threat and all in the way. They had done what only the most desperate could do, they had ventured into the highland plains and marshes and searched until they found a being connected to their target. Demons and spirits are connected to people, how they are is unknown even with modern knowledge, though there isn't a demon or spirit for every person. Based on what is known, there are very few who are connected to the beings. Imagine the risk it must have been, to ask and test every demon or spirit they came across, not even sure if there could be the one they looked for. I'd like to believe that a small number either got lost in the marsh or were robbed of their life. Possibly a bit of both for a few men.
They had found their demon after 3 days. It didn't give much of a fight, it didn't exactly care. After being told who they were looking for, the demon led them without any other information. no 'why?' nor any other prompting, he just pointed in the direction.
The group hadn't been unpleasant to him other than wary glares and faint whispers every once and a while, though that wasn't bothersome. The demon would have been more surprised if they had no qualms in his presence. While spirits tended to be more favorable to humans than the other, demons were more destructive and seen as, at best, parasitic menaces. It was probably true, that the demons offer their host if they can find one, greater levels of power in return for the body through which to exercise its will. Whether or not the person can keep their mind part-time or never was based on them (more than often, an attempt to regain control would result in the host's death). This demon was almost proud of the fear his kind invoked but seldom acted on it besides intentionally spooking the people in their tents for a laugh. By now though, he was bored and wanted to get this out of the way.
It was an hour past noon when they came to the gates of the small city (it was quite well hidden, inside a valley surrounded by the rest of the mountain pass, protected from the rest of the world). It was an hour past noon when the commander of the party raised his arm, and archers drew back their bows, an arrow fletching brushed up against each of their cheeks. It was an hour past noon when the demon cocked its head in confusion, brows furrowed. It was an hour past noon when his eyes blew wide with realization and the only thought that raced through his mind was, 'My word what have I done'. It was an hour and one minute past noon when the hand dropped and the arrows flew. Aria, Fae, and Axel were still trying to find Yorré from a game that started an hour and 1 minute ago.
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"One hour", Yorré said to herself, leaning back on a pillow she had placed on the floor.
.. "Two hours"
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..."Three hours", She hadn't heard anything in a while. This 'office' was pretty secluded, deep beneath the castle but, there hasn't been any sound. At all.
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...."Four Hours", Yorré got up, something didn't feel right. Four hours and barely a sound near? She opened the door out of the study. No sound. She ascended the stairs. No sound. She reached the main hall of her home... No sound. Panicked, she ran through every room. Nothing. She ran to the front door, yanking it open, then continued down the pathway. Even when she was inside, Yorré never noticed that the small castle that she called home was in shambles, its safe roof and walls crumbling.
The pavement was darker than usual, little splotches littering the floor. She tried to ignore it as she bounded through the streets, terror painted into her features. there was no sound, had she gone deaf? No, the wind still whispered into her ear and her footsteps echoed down the road. She finally reached the town square. No sound. No... . . . Yorré Barren froze.
There were bodies. Hundreds of bodies. Men were walking over them, giving them respect off the back of their heels. Everyone she knew was given such respect. Her neighbors, the baker, the clerk... She could only stare motionless, helpless as the dead, empty eyes of Fae stared back at her, cold red-stained hands still gripping their mother's dress. Yorré couldn't see Aria's eyes, nor would she have wanted to, the woman's eyes weren't even there anymore, her wings were torn off (probably taken as a trophy to hang on a wall).
Axel.
Where was Axel?!
Yorré screamed, 'This has to be a bad dream. Mom is fine. Fae is fine. Axel is fine. This is just a bad dream', she repeated that over and over inside her head. Everything around her felt numb and yet so agonizingly painful, so much so it felt like a physical wound. Those creatures in the field of corpses were stabbing her with an icy knife that no one else could see. She wanted it to stop, to get those things moving in the field of bodies to stop causing her this pain. Yorré was never able to recount anything that happened in those moments, She was completely lost in herself. The next thing she knew, she was grabbed and hands shook her out. She collapsed to her knees. Looking back, she saw her brother lying unconscious against the wall, injured but breathing. She saw the demon, it held her as she fell, gripping her shoulders firmly. She focused on the demon, shaking with tears streaming down her face. The demon wasn't looking back, his vermillion eyes were fixed on the sea of corpses, shock faintly crossing his face. Reluctantly, Yorré also looked back. There were more corpses added to the piles, the men who had been walking a minute ago were still and bloodied on the ground. A dark shadow-like substance covered the bodies, now started to subside and seep into the ground. 'Had I done that?' she asked herself.
Guilt.
'Yes', she had, she knew. Even though she didn’t understand the dark shadows that were disappearing slowly from the scene. she had wanted them dead for what they had done. What they were doing. Now they are gone.
So why was the pain worse?
"Pyr"
Yorré snapped away from the sight, "huh?"
The demon took her hand, which was previously limp at her side, and shook it lightly, " My name is Pyr, and I assume you are Yorré Barren?". She nodded but didn't try to say anything more, to numb to question anything else. Neither did the demon, 'Pyr'.
She waited with Pyr and Axel for her father to come home, he was due back today, he would be here. But, nothing was going to be ok.
None of the flowers grew there anymore after the attack. None that she could see, that is.
Otherwise, the day would have been beautiful.
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