A Different Path

Now that the blinding fury that had propelled him forward over the previous weeks had begun to fade into an altogether colder, clearer anger, Darc found himself reeling from the delayed shock of just how quickly his situation had changed. If anyone had informed him just a short while ago that he, a lowly slave and despised pariah, would become the leader of the Orcon tribe he would have laughed in their face. However, this was exactly the position he now found himself occupying. Although he knew he should be relieved that the misery and debasement of the last eight years of his life had finally come to an end, the path along which his mind currently wandered was dark.

As his father lay dying, before he had handed over the Wind Stone with no time left to explain to his son just what it’s significance might be, he had bestowed upon him once again those mysterious words he had been hearing all his life, that he, born from a Drakyr and a human, was the only one who could ‘save the deimos’. After his father had died and he had fallen swiftly into the hands of Geedo and eight torturous years of captivity, Windalf’s dream had seemed ridiculous at best. He had considered himself weak; good for nothing but the ceaseless hard labour and abuse that Geedo had forced on him.

However, the unexpected events of a few weeks ago had caused his life to diverge on this new and unlikely path. Geedo had sold him to the Drakyr and once within their power they had torn his wings from his body in an attempt to get him to relinquish the wind stone. Mutilated and half mad from the pain, he had nonetheless forced himself to pursue his tormentors in order to prevent them from taking the only memento of his father that he possessed. On reaching them and discovering Densimo’s betrayal, the previous leader of the Orcon tribe had proceeded to lift him by his throat before hurling him across the hard stone ground. As he lay there, drenched in his own blood and filled with a feverish delirium caused by the intensity of his pain, a deluge of rage and fury had suddenly washed over him.

The hatred and agony that threatened to consume him had instead exploded outwards and, barely aware of what he was doing, he had slain those who sought to degrade him. As he stood and observed the carnage he had caused through fever-bright eyes, his body now smeared with the blood of his fallen enemies as well as his own, realisation hit him with the force of a blow and the path he needed to follow finally became clear. He would unite the deimos using strength and fear, the only things they truly understood, before eliminating the humans who continued to encroach on their world. By doing this he would finally prove that he was one of them, deimos to the core, forcing them to accept him whilst simultaneously realising his father’s dream.

There was a part of him that wished things didn’t have to be this way, that he could achieve his father’s vision while avoiding the death and bloodshed that would no doubt follow if he continued on the path he had decided to take, but he was finding it easier with each passing day to crush these traitorous thoughts as they arose. He was a deimos; this was the only way forward and any sign of weakness would not be tolerated, least of all his own.
Darc’s thoughts were suddenly torn back to the present moment as another fierce wave of pain racked his body, emanating from the deep rents in his back that had yet to sufficiently heal.

‘My Alfa, what troubles you?’ the Lupine who had only recently pledged allegiance to him spoke up, no doubt noticing the look of torment on the half-Drakyr’s face.

‘It’s nothing,’ Darc answered gruffly, cursing himself for not keeping a better guard over his expression, ‘come on, we have a lot to do if we’re going to rid our land of humans. I need to find other strong deimos who’ll follow me.’

‘Darc, you’re in pain,’ Delma stated, narrowing her magenta eyes.

‘I said it’s nothing!’ Darc turned on the Orcon girl, his face contorted into a vicious snarl.

He felt a wave of regret flood through him as he registered the fleeting look of shock and something that closely resembled hurt that flickered across the girl’s face, but as the look transmuted into a sneer and he caught the words ‘pathetic half-breed’ muttered under her breath he angrily forced the feeling away. Delma and Volk were not his friends; they were merely strong and efficient tools to be made use of, something he was sure he would do well to remember.

‘Darc!’

The half-deimos turned at the sound of his name as he reached the entrance to the settlement of Orcoth. The Orcon he had ordered to stand guard stood before him, a look of nervous excitement etched across his face.

‘What?’ Darc growled.

‘I saw a strange light over Asheeda Forest! Something went down amongst the trees and there’ve been reports of humans in the area,’ The larger male informed him eagerly.

‘Humans!’ Volk spat, his attention suddenly focused on the Orcon in front of him, ‘Asheeda Forest is deimos territory, they will pay dearly for trespassing on our land!’

‘Are you sure about this?’ Darc narrowed his ruby eyes at the other deimos.

‘I know what I saw, there’s definitely something in the forest.’

‘Hmm. I guess we’d better investigate,’ the half-Drakyr spoke over his shoulder to his comrades before turning back to the Orcon, ‘you’d better not be making things up! Stay here and make sure Orcoth is protected in my absence.’

‘Yes, Sir!’ the larger male enthused as the small band of deimos exited the settlement and set off in the direction of Asheeda forest.

******


It had taken them some hours to make the trek across to the forest and although he would never admit it, Darc was beginning to feel a little worse for wear. Gritting his teeth and focusing on the path in front of him, he tried not to dwell on the throbbing ache in his back. Now that the intensity of his anger was somewhat subdued and the feverish delirium caused by shock to his body had finally begun to wear off, the half-Drakyr was beginning to realise the full extent of the damage done to him. The forceful removal of his wings had not only left him with deep and painful lacerations that would take time to heal but had also thrown off his balance. Whilst he knew that this could be rectified over time and with practice, for now he was sure that it would prove a hindrance during the arduous battles that no doubt were to come. So far they had encountered only monsters, but experience had taught him that humans were an altogether more dangerous opponent.

‘What the hell is that?’ Delma’s harsh voice questioned abruptly.

Tearing his eyes away from the ground, Darc looked up to see a hulking, metallic shape embedded amongst the trees. The immense construction stood out starkly from the otherwise organic environment and there was no doubt in his mind that this thing had been made by human hands. He watched in silent curiosity as Delma took a step closer to it.

‘Keep back! I’ve seen these before, they rain down a fiery death from the sky! It’s a human machine. Touch anything a human has created and misfortune is sure to befall you!’ Volk cried, clamping one large, strong hand down on the Orcon girl’s shoulder, preventing her from advancing any further.

‘Get the hell off me!’ Delma pulled away from the Lupine’s grasp, ‘what are you going on about now? Seriously, are you that scared of humans? It’s just superstitious nonsense. I’m using a human weapon and where do you think Darc got that sword and armour, eh?’

‘Darc! Are you really using something those despicable humans created?’ Volk suddenly turned towards him.

‘Yes, and if you want to keep your head on your shoulders you’ll keep quiet! Why shouldn’t I use it if it makes me stronger? Strength is everything to a deimos.’

To Darc’s satisfaction, Volk fell silent and he was able to re-focus his attention on the metallic structure in front of him. Taking a tentative step towards it, Darc reached out his clawed hand and ran his fingers across the machine’s surface. The smooth metal felt unnaturally cool despite the humid heat of the day, causing soft chills to run the length of the half-Drakyr’s spine. Curiosity sufficiently piqued, Darc moved closer in order to carry out a more thorough inspection.

It was at this moment that the unmistakable clamouring of angry human voices rang out from behind him. Whipping around, Darc growled low in his throat as his eyes fell on the small band of humans standing a short distance away. They already seemed poised and ready for attack, the female swinging her weapon in threatening arcs whilst one of the males who was already smeared with the unmistakable black-red stain of blood was shouting something unintelligible as he drew his sword.

‘Wretched humans! Death awaits you!’ Volk cried as he raised his axe above his head and, without waiting for Darc’s instructions, charged forward to meet their opponents.

‘Prepare to die!’ Delma snarled, closely following her Lupine comrade.

Darc gritted his teeth and attempted to subdue his rising anger. The humans were cunning and organised, usually having worked out a strategy prior to entering a battle and whilst he understood his allies’ eagerness to rid their territory of intruders, the half-Drakyr could not help but feel infuriated that they had not waited for his orders. When the battle was over, he would have to remind them in no uncertain terms that they were his subordinates and he expected them to defer to his decisions in future.

However, as the blood-smeared human began his swift advance, Darc realised the time for planning had ended, leaving no choice but to let the battle commence. Drawing his own sword, the leader of the Orcon tribe rushed forward to join the fray. The otherwise silent forest was suddenly filled with the sound of snarls and clashing steel as the opposing sides came together with the force of a breaking wave. As he dodged the arrow intended for his abdomen, Darc heard Delma’s muttered words and felt an intense burst of heat as she invoked the flaming arrow spell. He had time to note Volk grappling with the axe-wielding human before the other adult male was upon him.

As Darc furiously parried each of his opponent’s elegant yet ferocious attacks, he began to realise just how formidable a foe the human he was battling was. As he bought his sword sweeping upwards in a fierce attempt to slice across the other male’s chest, the human leapt nimbly away from him with a level of agility he had not witnessed in the species before. Growling, Darc spun around in preparation to continue his assault, only to be forced brutally backwards as the windslasher spell smashed into him, tearing his breath from his body. As the reality of what had just happened sunk in, Darc found he was unable to do anything other than stare in wide-eyed amazement at his approaching adversary. Never before had he heard of a human with the ability to utilize magic and what he had just witnessed had him temporarily rooted to the spot.

His stillness could not have lasted more than a couple of seconds, but it was enough. The human’s sword was nothing but an indistinct blur as it slashed upwards towards him and, unprepared, Darc’s own weapon spun out of his grasp. As he began to recite the words of his own spell in an attempt to regain the upper hand, the other male was upon him, knocking him fiercely to the ground and pinning him to the spot by bringing his foot down hard on Darc’s torso. It was then that the half-Drakyr noticed the wild, empty blackness of his opponent’s eyes and he felt his heart fall in his chest. The human he was fighting was filled with the very same overpowering hatred and fury that Darc himself had harnessed such a sort while before. The leader of the Orcon tribe knew only too well that once this fury was unleashed, there was only one way the battle could end.

As his adversary raised his sword above his head in preparation to deliver a mortal blow, Darc bought his arms up in a last desperate attempt to defend himself. When the explosion of pain he was expecting failed to materialise, the half-deimos cautiously lowered his arms in order to discover what exactly his opponent was doing. He had time to note the look of startled confusion that crossed the human’s face before it quickly reconfigured into one of intense hatred. The world around him seemed to disintegrate in a blinding fulmination of pain as the male’s fist crashed into the side of his head, black clouds rolling across his vision before consuming it completely as he lost consciousness.