Distant shouting abruptly yanks me from my thoughts and I’m on my feet in an instant, dagger in hand. Studying the scene below, I squint, barely making out the form of a soldier tumbling off of his horse at the entrance to the village. In a flurry of motion, men ready themselves, women ushering their children inside. And within ten minutes, rather than brace themselves for attack, their horses are pushed to their limits racing back the direction the messenger came, and my stomach flips.
As I scale down the cliff in double time, I risk frequent glances, but each only confirms my fears. By the time I’m mounting my own horse, my palms are covered in blood and sweat. Yet as I feel the wounds mending within minutes, it fills me with conviction that Icanbe the necessary evil to stop all of this.
Heart thundering in my chest, I push us harder, faster, but once we reach the base of the mountain, my horse rears back, refusing to go any further. My knees jar from the impact as I slide free, yet I only allow a second to steady myself before I’m sprinting. The slope is brutal with the sun beating down on my back, and several sleepless nights aren’t doing me any favors as I race across the terrain, up shallow cliffs and weaving between trees.
Pulling to an abrupt stop as the screams are amplified, followed by a series of ringing blades and dull thumps, I attempt to steel my nerves, but all I feel is a cold wash of horror that makes me momentarily motionless. Rather than blockade the entrance to the caves, Acheron has them out here fighting.
I was supposed to have more time.
Fires rage, spreading into the surrounding trees, and swords plunge through people I’ve known since... forever. The dark haze of energy flickers out on a Nightmare’s skin before he’s beheaded, a Chameleon’s camouflage disappears in her attempt to flee and she catches an arrow in the back. Yet still, they’re trying to fight back despite their waning abilities, only to be cut down in a swift, effective assault the likes of which I didn’t realize the humans were capable of. I’ve seen a few attacks firsthand, but they were nothing like this; a butchering that they’re takingjoyfrom, laughing in the face of their victim’s screams. And these... these are humans that Ihelped,took on some of the suffering that plagued them.
That’s why it’s worse. They’re able to think more clearly, to plan instead of simply attacking in a rage.
A few of the demons match the humans’ deadly energy like they were born for the part, every blow countered and returned, blades flying and roots rising out of the ground to choke the life out of the very beings that gave us life and purpose in the first place. And for the first time, I wonder if Acheron was right, and all of this time I was simply deluding myself that there was still hope so I wouldn’t have to face reality.
Instinct takes over, pulling me out of my reverie as the faint whistling of wind proceeds the sword swinging towards me from behind. Spinning on my heel, I lift my dagger, blocking the blow at the last second. In a series of practiced movements, I break his ankle and send him stumbling to the ground before slashing my blade across his throat without a second of hesitation, hating myself for the hypocrisy, but it helps snap me out of my doubt.
We live in brutal times; I understand that better than most. But that doesn’t mean I think we should go seeking war with an entire race, our counterparts no less. No good comes from such things, only innocent people caught in the crossfire that aren’t nearly as trained in how to protect themselves as we are.
We weremadeto be everything they’re not. Strong enough to handle anything that the world throws at us, able to withstand the pain that comes with living; but not the only ones who deserve to. They’re our source of strength, yet in turn, we’re also theirs.
Without the humans, the only way the Nightmares will survive is feeding off of other demons. And without the humans to deal with, Acheron will become the top of the food chain, able to control everything and everyone left.
In a surge of rage, I watch as living flames coat a human’s skin, obliterating him into an unrecognizable pile of bone and ash in a matter of seconds. And just as swiftly, I watch the demon desperately tear through some debris and withdraw the unmoving body of a woman. No matter his pleas, the gentle smacks to her cheek, or the pressure he puts on the wound in her chest, she doesn’t stir. And when he clutches her against him and screams at the heavens, the tortured agony can be felt all the way to my soul. He stays there on his knees, brushing the hair from her face and whispering promises as the battle rages on around him. As humans and demons clash with such volatility, the pain and destruction they leave in their wake carves scars into the universe that it can never possibly recover from.
Rushing forward, I block the downward swing of a sword before it can strike him down. Swiftly disarming the man, I plunge my blade into the side of his neck to hold him steady, refusing to waste even an ounce of my power on him. Pulling him down into my knee as I bring it upward, I break his nose before whirling to the side, dragging my dagger across his throat and nearly decapitating him. Leaving him for dead, I follow the sound of enraged shouts, cries of pain, and distraught wails as people’s lives are irrevocably changed to find Acheron rallying those still standing, filling their heads with claims of a better world as he’s done for months. But they’re all so blinded by rage that they refuse to see anything other than what they want to at this point.
Acheron has been fanning the flames of discontent for years because he resents the fact that we were spawned to ease the suffering of mortals. The worst part is... he isn’t wrong. The fact that our entire existence is built upon the foundation of helping people that spurn our efforts, that constantly blame us for their own failings? It’s surely one of life’s cosmic jokes, the price we must pay for the blessing of our abilities.
What is unforgivable is the fact that he killed dozens of human women and children to instigate them into attacking us in the first place, yet no one believes me. The fact that I only witnessed it because I was in that same village sleeping with a human and not actually following Acheron like I claimed wouldn’t do any favors for my credibility, so having the man corroborate my story would only do more damage rather than provide any proof. It also doesn’t help matters that my disdain of Acheron is legendary, and I’ve made no effort to hide it over the years. There really is no proof to be had, but that doesn’t stop them from believinghisclaims at face value.
“Okay, change of plans, I can salvage this.” Reaching up to grip my necklace, I take a deep breath, scanning the brutal scene around me and desperately scrambling for a new idea. “I’m never going to convince them to walk away and start over elsewhere, now. They’ll fight until their last breaths simply out of spite at this point, cling to everything that comes out of Acheron’s mouth like its gospel and refuse to give my idea a chance.”
Turning away from my kin towards the humans that outnumber us three to one, the horrific realization of how epically I fucked up presses down on me until it threatens to suffocate the air from my lungs. We’re not going to be able to win this battle; not after I’ve been discreetly siphoning from them for the past few months in preparation of getting them to leave this war behind and create a new life for ourselves across the sea. They’re too weak now, for too many reasons.
We’re used to managing other people’s pain, but not our own. The grief of losing so many loved ones in this ambush is going to be too much for them to bear. They’ll be seeking death as a reprieve, or revenge in the form that goes beyond slaying those here today, joining Acheron’s quest to rid the world of humans altogether; even the innocent ones that have nothing to do with this, those across the sea that have no idea about the war encroaching ever closer to their shores.
The humans aren’t any better. They dug their own graves, and would rather climb into them than consider a reality where we could have a mutually beneficial relationship. They’ve made it abundantly clear they don’t want our help, so they can continue to suffer, but this time, on their own.
Misery loves company because only when we’re at our lowest do we realize how truly alone we are in this world. It’s when we’re so lost in our pain and can’t see a way out that we seek out not a light to guide us from the darkness, but a hand to hold as we sink into its embrace.
The only choice left that doesn’t result in one of our races being wiped out is if someone is willing to break the cycle of vengeance and walk away. Even if they hate me for it, that’ll be nothing I’m not already used to enduring and will happily bear their disdain if it means that no one else becomes collateral damage in a war they never wanted to fight in in the first place.
Taking a slow, deep breath, the deceptively innocuous gemstone burns the palm of my hand. The pain is searing, branding the evidence of my betrayal into my skin. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a bid to save everyone from destroying themselves. People died today, and if I hadn’t taken a fraction of power from them, they might not have.
It’ll always be my fault because neither human nor demon can seem to bear the weight of accountability and perpetually seeks to pawn off the blame.
“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.” I hiss in a sharp breath as all of the demonic energy I’d stored up floods my system, every nerve ending pushed to its limit. “We can still have a new home, I just need to bring it to them.”
The energy thrumming through me reaches a boiling point, pushing magma through my veins until my skin begins to split, tiny rivulets of blood echoing my sentiment. The ground trembles beneath my feet, throwing a few people off balance. Fighting grinds to a halt when the first fissure splits the land, and when the next shake of the earth sends a dozen men tumbling into the dark void of the chasm, I tighten my grip on the necklace.
Somewhere we can be safe. Somewhere we have everything that we need to thrive, somewhere where we can be safe and happy.
Mentally, I articulate each thought clearly, because a Nightmare’s strongest ability isn’t something that can be wielded with precision. Our power lies in creating a new reality by whispering the right things in the right ears, shifting perspectives to instigate the changes we wish to see in the world. We play the long con, but it comes down to manifesting the right energy when we release ours into the world.
The Elementals’, though, get instant results.
So I use my abilities to coax the energy I stole from them into doing what I need, to create a new place for us to live so we have a shot at the future I can only dream of right now. The humans wish to paint us as hellacious monsters that crawled from the bowels of the earth rather than the blackened pits of their dying souls? Fine.
