"Welcome, welcome! Take your seats if you haven't already! No need to fret! I'm your host, Kirchamis! And today! A returnee has dragged their body back here!"
The Assistant gruffly snorted while looking at the audience. Perhaps to avoid the joyful mood of The Host.
Clapping their hands while leaning in their chair, They continued.
"I, for one, consider this great luck. If it were not, then I'd be dead in a gutter! But rest assured..! I crafted a good game today! Two!"
The two fingers of The Host proudly shoved forward wiggled.
Rotating Their hand turned into one finger left.
…Still leaning back on the chair with two legs on the floor near about to fall.
"Might be short but. Well. We'll see."
The shadows beneath the hair disappear as a smile, plastered on, gains traction.
The rhythmic tapping on Their own chest and thorough gaze are forgotten as they were all watched.
An electrifying thrill courses The Host's chest. Fiercely clawing mercilessly.
Disgust, shame, hatred, desire, apathy, indifference, love, despair,
Regret.
"Shall we start?"
Wash away with so little words.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------—
Vampires & Hampires
The classic bloodsucker.
Bloodfiends, garlic haters, demons of the night, arrogant immortal imperfectors, red eyes, whatever.
The starting point is blood, vitality, and the sun.
Like someone who doesn't see the sun in his mothers basement, they shriek in pain and scramble for the shadows.
Or the ash route.
Not enough vitamin D. Just like my mother said.
They live long or are immortal. Who decided that? Pale with red eyes. They generally get this trait for the Progenitor of the vampires.
Or something.
The progenitor, the oldest and the one who basically created them or the state they are in. Unbroken loyalty and superiority. Comes with the package.
This then relates to the substance of consumption.
Blood.
The sticky, red filled iron.
Savor, consume. Livestock all around. Prime food, human.
Everything else? Garbage.
In retrospect, I just call them 'vampires' because of the fangs and wings.
There's no defined specific name for them.
Unlike the other ones I've seen; vampire or a variation fits.
The progenitor for vampires does not exist.
The vampire king or the equivalent does.
The progenitor, solely for vampires, cannot exist.
Some lump them with the demons and their religion, but since they are humanoid with only two characteristics, they don't exactly fit with them.
I even asked her, and with our heads concluded the same idea.
Sure there's some species, like our glorious ruler of Zalix' east, but it's cousin, the shadow beasts, can generally take on a form suitable to survive.
Both share the same trait.
Though the shadow beasts can only take the forms of animals. Their potential as prototypes can allow them to be like those on Zalix. But preference and their inherent traits disprove such a tactic.
Going back to the main residents of the plateau region, they can eat anything.
Likely from where their ancestors once boisterously told me, they'll prove it to me.
Not everyone is strong.
We are strong.
Sometimes it coils around my heart.
I see it and can change it.
You must let go.
You must let go.
You must let go.
You must let go.
Gluttony is often a sin, but considering the lack of food they love and crave, it's fine to eat.
They live long because they were made like that. No special reason.
No immortality because.
If anything, their ancestors are the progenitors of the beginning. So is everyone else who was given the chance of life.
No immortality because I and them are immortal.
There is no need for blood to be the only sustenance if everything else is better.
They have wings to freely go wherever in the high and short plateaus.
They and I are but the same without who came first. Without respect, without guidance.
There is no difference besides the constitution of the body.
The mind could be the same or not.
My friends and I were mortal with finite time.
I
considered
not writing
this
but
Sometimes I wonder.
The face of everyone and their lives had I not cared about myself so much.
Here we are though.
Moral failing I sought to carry.
Truly
Truly I am
The worst human alive.
Do not pity yourself.
If anything, I would cringe if anyone saw this.
Haha.
Still I think.
And think about all my decisions.
The conclusion is the same.
It can bend and break. I am not perfect. Too many however.
Then what is the point of conviction if it reaches that point?
I have yet to see it.
Both of my dream and failings.
It might come back to me, it might not.
But you and I.
Were we not strong in our ways?
You saw the end.
I will too.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------—
The… Host on stage has yet to announce the speech correlating to our flashy arrival.
It is much easier to say Them than The Host. Much more familiar to use the epithet they are most known as by the bundled masses who live on Kaltrios.
Kaltrians would be fitting.
Still the ringing of sound effects merely drive my ear canals to a madness.
It's an annoyance plainly.
Yet the river has no stop. Flowing without care to the harshness of it's harm.
A dredged memory of anger is forthwith buried with chains in the deep recesses of the mind.
Loosening the balled fist, my fingers brush against the skin gently. A not quite headache wreaks havoc.
The Pr–... Host continues with Their play.
So it seems that it will not be soon.
Quietly the rustling of clothes tethered together was not that quiet as the reaction caused the already rolling eyes– ah, mostly rolling eyes to gather towards my hand.
Speaking of hands, there was the mention of the right hand of The Host being removed.
In the placement of the chair was a Valorie Division member?
"Pfft."
They do not exactly give specific designations on how to address another from a different department.
Considering the tendencies of the two…
It is merely followed. Like a child mimicking until it stuck.
I personally think it's for favoritism.
The largest department is Valorie Division. Followed by the Guarded Cards.
Is it not so when one sits where the right hand used to?
That particular agent was…
The hierarchy is not something I in my position knows well to begin with.
I believe it has to do with the sun and wings.
Other than that, knowledge is less than a possessor inhabiting a poor soul's overridden body.
The name of such an Assistant crosses my mind not.
The crisp sound echoes in the room as the coin is flung into the air.
It's momentum falters, eventually staying in the air for a brief moment. So my imagination believes.
Reaching up, it falls and my fingers meet.
"Tails."
A soft smile spread from my lips.
For it was the wrong one.
— — — —
"A time limit?"
[Rightly so!]
The heat from the canyon filled with vicious molten liquid could be distinctly felt.
[Discussed, I realized, there was no urgency!]
I believe there was before. Nonetheless, They, using reason, are correct.
Incorrigibly my mouth wishes to jest. Suppressing it, I merely smiled.
"I see."
[Your objective is simple! Eliminate the stragglers.]
Understandable.
In practice, a twist from the last time learned.
For these who have yet to even shed a pint of blood, one must feel befuddled.
[Well, good luck..!]
Considering their high capability as Demons, it is rather simple.
"Shall we go?"
Not a sound but the singeing of tumbling rocks.
The yawn of the core groans with a shuddered ache.
It reminds me of the stories of those who leave ash as their answer to the orders given to them.
The inferno consumes with several layers, the deeper, it envelopes and erases the damned.
Given it matters little to the Wandering Presence, a specific point made will be likely insufficient to understand the picture.
A thick yellow orange comes to mind. That is what lava is no?
Scorching sludge capable of eviscerating anything it touches.
"I would prefer a suggested team effort given the situation, but it all lies with you."
Save for who's really in charge.
The correct word would be…
"Then, pardon me."
I walked along the chasm.
Wondering what the sight would be, hastened footsteps behind caught up with my leisure stride.
Now it seems I have earned a sliver of trust.
Hardly.
The cloak or cape they fitted unto me fluttered with my stride. Unlike the words of The Host, they have yet to tell me it's function.
Partly due to assignments and…
…Something else.
They did tell me it's colour. Or did they tell me before?
I can't quite remember after falling to the blade of vengeful remnants.
A symbol with a vague description relating to Wandering Presence and purple.
How stylish.
"...Um… are you…?"
Ah, introductions.
Being on the left, I graciously thank you for reminding me.
Patting my chest with my left hand while continuing along the gouged maw of earth, I spoke happily.
"Azen, of the Wandering Presence."
"Uh– ah…"
"Are you, then, the senior official?" another with huskier voiced their question.
Hm, well.
"By your words, yes." I answered heartedly.
Generally though, it would be exact if we were of the same department.
But through The Host's 'game' earlier, even a technicality is washed away.
Exempt was I from it.
All of them are demons, and I am not.
Their departments and race are vast.
Some I have frankly never heard of. Considering the past, it's even lucky I know a speck of the demons.
"Then how shall we defeat our enemies senior?"
Prefers hierarchy.
Marlain Eiykai.
"We shall see soon."
"When is that?"
Patience is akin to virtue.
"Soon."
"...."
"Merely glance ahead."
The stench of blood is thrilling for hunters that devour.
The licking of lips cannot help but be heard.
Veriturana.
A beast somewhere between reptile and wolf.
The four dragging feet prance around with anticipating glee.
"Soon uh…" they drawled out.
I am not one to reign others desire.
That lies with the master.
The Veriturana Ali.
Most either are in camp surname or no surname.
The Veriturana described by this headhunter…
A family name ridiculously long and the same for all of the same colony.
Recalling this is a waste of time.
"Ooh look at that…!"
The one speaking are of those horned squishy ones.
The ones that…
Mostly humanoid…
Dezra Imerelda Nova Puri Gansuvic.
…The one silent with what I imagine as a tree, flawlessly follows with no words.
If only the rest were similar.
But by the order of The. Host. It shall be this way.
Taking out the coin, I flicked it into the air.
"That reminds me of that movie! The uh, which one was it…"
Perhaps a literary reference would be fitting.
"I would prefer a description if you would kindly."
"Eh? But it's right…" the demon's voice trailed off the moment I caught the coin.
Heads.
"It's a corpse bridge of large proportions. A recently fresh one."
Hm.
"The gash on it's seemingly stomach alongside the sky and below are of similar formation."
"Oh I remember it's the dinosaur scene!"
"Assumedly part of the cause or caught up in it."
Quite smart from little details.
"But this one's just one of those inferior dragons."
"Whatever the circumstances, it lies as piled meat with no owner."
"Freebies then!"
How disorienting.
A lack of coherence.
The coin landed again. Feeling the side facing the sky, it was Heads.
It was not the right decision.
Suffice to say, the coin flew into the air.
"What else?"
"A group is crossing."
A generous coincidence saving hassle.
"Description of their appearance."
"Yes sir."
I am not one to be picky.
Nonetheless, as we approached the fledgling demon described their appearance.
Tired.
Starved.
Dirty.
The Veriturana complained of an overwhelming stink.
But jolted from clotted blood and impatiently swerved in the spot of each step we took.
Some wore armor.
Most did not.
Marlain Eiykai or just Marlain is a rather useful demon.
There are few moments where words lack what only what sight can tell.
[What's this? Two lone groups meet each other on the plain..! What'll happen next?]
The coin landed Heads.
I wonder if it was Them.
Because then it would not be like this.
"What do you think, friends?"
"Uh… isn't…"
"Ruthless!"
"...."
"I have a question."
Well then.
"Speak freely."
"What is the limit?"
My, a limit?
For what?
I tilted my head slightly.
"For killing?"
"Ah." I chuckled lightly.
I sped up my legs and the other group noticed us.
"Halt! Identify yourself–"
For those behind me it would be an obvious realization.
Young, old, wise, foolish, sinful, virtuous.
The paling faces are full of misery.
The new colours on faces unknown.
At least that's what I think.
Perhaps it's rage.
Perhaps it's sorrow.
I flipped the coin.
"P-Prepare–"
Reaching upwards just a bit, it landed back in my hand.
A touch and likely was Them. Or sheer luck.
Whatever it may be, only then was it allowed.
"Tails."
The force binding me leaves. I smile as I put the coin away.
It was the wrong decision to draw the sword.