A Tale Of Serpents

Fyn.  

Fyn didn't know how long he stared at the demon, but it was probably long enough that the demon got tired and left him there, gawking.

If he had been red before, he knew that his face probably turned a deep shade of red enough to consider him a tomato. Had the demon actually brought him something to eat? Surely not. Still, if the demon didn't eat fruits, why would he bring a wide variation of them? Did the demon usually feed his captives before killing them? Nothing made sense.

Blinking after a long while, Fyn followed the direction of where the demon had gone to. The cave system was dark, but he could hear the demon's wings flapping as he walked. He might still be near. Taking a deep breath, Fyn placed the fruit back inside the rucksack and placed the entire thing near one of the walls. After he secured it, he combed his hand through his hair and slowly walked towards where the demon was.

Was there a different demon in Gashea that he didn't know about?

Fyn shielded his eyes with his hand once he was close to the exit of the cave. The sudden brightness was enough to almost blind him. Instinctively, he took a step back. Once he realized there was no imminent danger, he continued to walk.

Once he reached the end of the exit, he looked up at the clouds. His feet moving on their own.

Did the demon fly away?

With his hand still hovering his forehead to block the sun, Fyn stared up at the sky, one of his eyes closed. The clouds seemed to be nearer than he had expected, they must have been higher than he thought. No one from the village had ever reached the mountains within the forest of Gashea. Deep in thought, Fyn's mind suddenly blanked when he felt a warm muscular arm wrapping around his waist.

Then he was pulled flush against a warm chest.

Flushing, Fyn froze in place. He could feel his heart hammering against his chest at the sudden contact. He had been far away from the village for as long as he could remember. The sudden closeness and interaction he did with the demon in a span of a few hours were more than the interaction he did with the villagers the entire duration of his life.

He felt warm breath brush his ear. The demon growled deeply, "Do you really wish to die after I offered you kindness again, you insufferable Mortal?!"

"What?" It surprised Fyn he even had the energy to speak. The demon's voice was already deep when he had stood a few feet away from him. Now that he was behind him, speaking directly to his ear, the voice had turned octaves deeper. It made the hairs on the back of Fyn's neck rise up dramatically. A pleasant thrill climbing up his spine. Frowning, he shook his head, Fyn muttered, "I... was looking for you."

The demon actually sounded surprised, "Why?"

"To apologize."

The arm around his waist tightened inexplicably. Fyn didn't know whether or not it would be smart to run away. He stayed frozen in place, his eyes lingering on the muscular arm that was still wrapped around him. Much like a regular human, the demon's arm had bulging veins. The only difference was he seemed warmer than a normal man. With how high up they were in the mountain, the wind had turned cold.

Fyn found himself nuzzling into the arm, finding comfort in its warmth.

"I have no need for useless words." The demon uttered behind him.

Fyn was about to reply when he felt the demon move, still with its arm around him. Confused, Fyn turned around only to be welcomed by the sight of the demon's chest. The smart side of his brain told him to look back in front and just let the demon do what it wanted, but his eyes betrayed him. It stayed lingering on the crisscrossed scars on the demon's chest.

Before he knew it, his free hand was moving, and his fingertips were grazing the scars.

The demon froze.

"Mortal," It hissed, "Remove your hand."

Fyn didn't. He boldly moved his hand across the demon's chest, his brows furrowed. Fyn often thought that demons had miraculous healing abilities and that their skin would be flawless. He was mistaken. The arm tightly coiled around him got tighter as the demon sharply inhaled. Growling lightly, a tail coiled around his hand that was on the demon's chest and stopped it from moving.

Fyn blinked to make sure he was seeing correctly.

The demon's tail was now wrapped around his hand.

"Do you really have a death wish, Mortal?"

Fyn tipped his head up to glare at the demon. Its eyes seemed to shine even a deeper shade of red. As strong as he could, Fyn snapped at him. "You keep saying that, but all I did was look for you! Was simply doing that warranted my death?"

The demon had a look of surprise on its face.

"You were not going to jump?"

Fyn frowned, "Jump? From where-"

Fyn's words died in his throat. He swiveled his head automatically to where he once stood. Goosebumps run along his arm once he saw just where he once was. He had been busy gazing up at the clouds and he wanted to slap himself for even missing it. Just outside the demon's cave was an enormous cliff. And just below it was a waterfall.

A waterfall whose mouth was directly behind Fyn's hut.

"The brides," Fyn muttered under his breath, "They fell to their death."

The demon didn't speak, instead, he continued to pull Fyn far away from the cliff. Once the demon was content with where Fyn was standing, it turned around. Spreading its wings, it bent its knees and was ready to take a flight. Except it didn't get to do that. Fyn's hand shot out, grabbing the demon's elbow, stopping it from moving.

Stiffening under his hold, the demon begrudgingly turned around to look at him.

It opened its mouth but Fyn spoke first, "You're no murderer."

"I am," The demon insisted, turning around to meet Fyn's gaze. Its face showed nothing, its eyes were cold and calculating. Shrugging its shoulders, Fyn noticed its tail not wagging anymore. It lay limply behind him. "Thousands of mortal blood is in my hands."

Fyn ignored what the demon just said, "The brides... You didn't kill them. They fell."

"I didn't warn them about this either." The demon muttered, its face growing bored. "Let go of me, Mortal. I have things to do."

Fyn continued to hold him tight.

"You didn't kill them."

"What difference does it make?" The demon chuckled darkly, its face contorting to something scary and vile. Fyn's eyes widened as the demon shook his hand away roughly. Closing the distance between them, the demon tipped his chin upward with one of his sharp claws, a sly smirk forming on its face. "Murderer, not a murderer. Tell me, does that make a difference, mortal? With all the hate your species does to things they do not understand, whether I killed those women means little. Just the mere sight of me, mortals like you wish for my imminent death."

Fyn's mouth opened, ready to defend himself and humanity when the demon cut him off. It grasped his chin tight, its long sharp nails digging into his skin, enough to draw blood. "Do not say it is not the truth, mortal. Did you not just attempt to murder me on sight moments ago? Even after the kindness I did?"

"That was different," Fyn whispered, his eyes softening. "I was afraid."

The demon let him go, its face almost telling Fyn that it was sorry for him.

"I do not wish to be the bearer of bad news, but I wish to inform you that you fear the wrong thing."

And within the blink of an eye, the demon spread its wings and flew up in the air. Leaving behind a powerful gust of wind, that almost made Fyn fall back on his bottom. Gazing upwards, Fyn watched as the demon flew across the sky, the sound of its wings echoing across the forest of Gashea.

"The master is often misunderstood."

The voice was smooth and silky, and it made Fyn squeak in place. Looking around, he tried to find where the voice came from, but the only thing he saw was nothing but rocks and trees. He was high up in the mountain, after all. He only knew of one demon living within the forests.

Had he been wrong? Was there more than one?

"Please, understand him," The voice said again. Panicking slightly, Fyn took a step back, careful not to fall down the cliff towards his death. He wouldn't want the villagers to offer another bride to the demon while he was alive and well. At least he would help spare innocent lives. "I am down here, mortal."

Blinking in surprise, Fyn looked down.

Something brushed along his ankle.

By his feet was a white scaly snake.

There was an intelligent look in the snake's eyes. Crouching down at a safe distance, Fyn pointed towards his chest, "Are you... talking to me?"

"There is no one else here," The smooth voice said again. Fyn realized the voice was actually inside his head. The snake was speaking to him telepathically. As if things weren't already strange enough. "I am talking to you, mortal."

Fyn hugged his knees to his chest, "A talking snake."

"That is right," The snake's voice echoed inside his mind again. "You do not seem surprised."

"I'm captured by a demon," Fyn pointed out. "I think nothing is more surprising than that."

The snake slithered close to him, stopping just a few steps away. Powered by bravery, Fyn moves his arm near the snake, and it slithers and rolls around his elbow up towards his shoulders. The snake speaks inside of his mind again, an intelligent gleam in its eyes once more. "The master did not capture you, you are free to leave as you choose."

"You mean, he wouldn't kill me?"

"He would not touch you, much like as he refrained from touching the others."

Fyn nodded in understanding, "The brides."

"The women," The snake said again, "For some reason, they are fearful of the master. Before the master could bring them sustenance, they had already run out of the safety of the master's cave. They fell to their deaths before the master could stop them from doing so."

The news made Fyn's sweat run cold. He already knew that the demon was not a murderer. Yet to have another being, even though it was a magical snake, say it again, made everything clearer. The forest of Gashea did not have a murderous demon roaming within the trees.

Still, he did bring them famine, drought, and disease. He was no saint.

"Who are you?" Fyn asked instead, changing the subject.

The snake moved its head, as if taking a small bow. "The name is Havu. What about you, mortal?"

"My name is Fyn," Before he could stop himself, curiosity got the best of him. "Your... master, what's the demon's name?"

The snake's voice echoed inside Fyn's mind.

"The master's name, is Kavan."