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His king has commanded a quest. See the beauties, horrors, and wonders of the land. Camriddeon will travel far in the name of peace, and in the name of progress.

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Those Who Turn Away

Kait adjusted Jude’s hood. “There, now, that’s a good one,” she said. “Let’s just make sure we make a good impression.”

Jude squirmed underneath the comforting. Monster he may be, a hybrid creature stuffed into the body of a child. Wielding a power that neither he or Kait understood, or how to stop it from changing his body. However, he was still a seven-year-old boy, and a grown-up futzing with his clothes caused an innate response of squirming.

“Don’t be like that,” Kait said. “I don’t know what Whitebrush is like, and so we go in cautious.”

Jude looked up, confused. This was the first time Kait had mentioned where they were going. Just on the outskirts of town, he had assumed that she would have just let him figure it out.

Kait hadn’t mentioned the town, because she didn’t know what to expect. Harsk had never been here, or if he had, he hadn’t mentioned it. It was far to the southwest, closing in on Angels’ Waste.

The demon girl shivered, and looked towards the Waste. There, in the distance, even in the fading light of sunset, the sky turned green. A reminder, and a legacy of a war over a thousand years ago. When humans had unleashed powers upon themselves in a self-inflicted attempt at genocide. Scarring the earth, and opening thirteen scars of magic and radiation that even now, ten centuries later, gaped as open wounds.

Kait pointed at the green skies. They were close, too close for her liking. Whitebrush was just a few miles away from the known border, sitting as a signpost for the rest of the continent to stay away.

“You see those green skies, Jude?”

The boy nodded. “Listen to me, and listen good. Don’t go near there. If we get separated, if Clari and I get horrendously murdered, if all hope is lost save running towards the Waste, you don’t go there.”

He kept nodding. Kait glared at him. “Those who go near the Wastes are changed, Jude. Scarred, deformed. Killed in ways that would make demons retch. There are thirteen Wastes on this planet, vast areas of land, whole islands taken up in the scarring. Any who venture too close, those who return, are murdered by their own kin, for the safety of the world. That alone should tell you why to never go. Got it?”

Jude nodded, and shivered. Kait wouldn’t kill him, she knew that. But she had to instill the fear in him. If Harsk didn’t like getting near the Wastes either, what could they be like?

She looked again, and turned away. She couldn’t look at it too long.

Damn it, focus on the job. A few towns over, there had been reports of demons attacking Whitebrush. Monsters as well, though that could be the rabid beasts of the Waste. The word kept filtering through the towns until it found its way to Kait.

She should have ignored it. Kait was supposed to be looking for answers to Jude. Or figuring out what these Demon Lords were planning on doing on the earth. Or even puzzling out Lila’s prophecy. But the town was looking for saviors. Heroes, or Riders. But Kait hadn’t heard anything about Harsk for a few months, or the Ride for that matter. And they needed help now.

She mounted up on Clari-Ann, slung Jude back behind her, and started moving. Whitebush loomed ahead of her. A battered palisade wall hid her view of the interior of the town. The walls were charred, beaten, and missing patches.

Kait looked up around the top of the wall, and frowned. No one was standing atop the walls. She dismounted, walked to the edge of the wall, and knocked on it. The brittle wood shattered under the assault.

Clari and Jude looked warily at the wall. The gob-horse nickered, and stamped the ground.

“We’re not leaving yet,” Kait said. “We just got here.”

Clari snorted.

“Fine, you go find us some food and a place to sleep.” Kait pointed at the food in the saddlebags. “Leave the turnips, I paid for that.”

The gob-horse’s ears flattened, and she glared at her Rider. And begrudgingly followed her deeper into town.

Kait didn’t like the looks of this place. It was too quiet, especially for sun down. No street lamps or torches. Windows boarded up. The main street leading from the palisade was bereft of any sort of light.

“Jude,” Kait said. “Stick behind me.” She sauntered one way and another. This made no sense. The town wasn’t destroyed, it wasn’t dead. But if she didn’t know any better, she would call it abandoned.

But the boards were too crisp. The paint too clean. For all the beating the exterior walls had received, Whitebrush itself was pristine.

Jude clutched at Kait’s jacket. The Rider flinched, but stood firm. Jude walked past her, and pointed down to the end of the street.

Kait saw the flash of movement. She sighed, let her hand drift away from the knife, and walked forward.

“I’m Kait Demonborn, one of Harsk’s Riders!” She called out. “We’re not here to hurt you, we’re here to help!”

Jude started to follow her.

“Stay back,” she hissed through clenched teeth. Keep the focus on her, only her. If they were this jittery with no one around, what would happen if they saw something that looked like her?

“Die, demon!” Someone screamed.

Kait dove to the side. A chair was thrown her way, followed by a hail of arrows.

“Stop!” Kait shouted. “I’m a Rider, dammit!”

“Demon!” The house that the debris had been thrown from. A window crashed apart, and crossbows appeared, being reloaded.

Clari-Ann whinnied, rising up on her hind legs.

“No, you idiot!” Kait screamed at her horse. “Jude! Get Jude!”

The horse swung around, placing her body in front of the child.

Kait ran for the opposite side of the street. Two bolts slammed into the dirt. Someone swore, and a door banged open as she ran towards it. A burly brown man stood in the doorway, wielding a sword.

“Not today, demon!” He said. He strode forward, swinging wildly.

Kait gave an inward sigh, and ducked under one swing. Punched the man in his grasp, and parried the weaker counterstrike with her knife. She kicked at his knee, driving the muscular man to ground. And stopped him entirely as she held her knife at his throat.

“Hold!” Kait called out. “I’ve got your man, dead to rights. If we all just take a breath, no one has to die today.”

Jude wound up, and threw one of the pieces of debris. It banged against the windowsill of the house just as the crossbow was aiming to fire.

“I’ll kill him!” Kait shouted.

“And I would gladly die to save this town, demon.” The man snarled.

“You,” Kait muttered. “Are going to say one sentence. This whole town, I would like just one sentence where I’m not just named as demon.”

“You will not kill us…” The man trailed off as Kait trailed the knife edge along his throat. She didn’t break skin, and sighed in relief.

“There we go. That’s all we needed. And see, nobody’s dead.”

She kicked the sword down the street. “Now, we’re going to do something really crazy, and trust each other. I’m going to let you go, and you’re not going to run over there. And if you can make it twenty steps without me getting attacked, then maybe we can talk.”

She let him go. “Your choice.”

The man stumbled away. Ran five steps, and paused. Then walked five more. He turned around, sure that this was a trap. Kait leaned against the wall of the house. He jogged the next ten steps.

Kait put the knife back in her belt. “There we go.”

The man grunted. “You’re a Rider.”

“Kait Demonborn. Heard that there was trouble in Whitebrush, and here I came.”

“For what?” he asked. “Money, land, men…women?”

“The right thing to do.” Kait darkened. Only she got the motive question.

“This is our land!” Those voices from that house again. Kait couldn’t see them, even now. They still hadn’t ventured anything other than a crossbow into view.

“Our town! No demon bitch is going to take it, curse or no curse!”

“Curse?” Kait asked. The man pointed to the store a few doors down. There, in front of the general store, stood a single pole. Made of pine, with a single word carved into it:

CURSED

Kait swore, and turned to Clari-Ann and Jude. “We’re out of here.”

Cursed. The town was cursed. A spell laid upon the very land, infecting the walls, buildings, even the very dirt. It attracted trouble, be it ghosts, demons, or the maladies of the earth. Sometimes for centuries.

If it wasn’t true, she didn’t care. Half the town probably did, that’s why they were gone. And being that even Harsk didn’t screw with curses, meant that she didn’t want to touch them with a ten-foot pole.

“Did anyone figure out how big the cursed area was?” She asked the man.

“Just in the walls,” He said. “But once monsters and…” He coughed.

“Demon bastards spawned from the depths of the Pit,” Kait finished.

“Right. Them, when they get here, they don’t just stay. They start looking around for people to kill.”

Kait leaned against Clari-Ann and mulled over her options. She could try and protect the inhabitants of Whitebrush, those that were left. Some last ditch effort at redemption for the town, which would be swallowed up by the never-ending hoards of destruction and chaos that couldn’t help but blunder in here. She’d only end up getting Jude and Clari-Ann killed.

Leaving, then. Kait clenched her teeth. The idea of abandoning someone, anyone, rankled. Even some stupid townsfolk she’d rather dropkick a few times. Not kill them, just ruin their furniture or something. But even they deserved saving.

“You should come with,” she said to the man.

He picked up his sword, and walked back to the house. “It’s our home,” He muttered. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He was right, she didn’t.

“The other townsfolk, the leavers?” He said. “They left heading southwest.”

Kait frowned. “Southwest is close to the Waste.”

The man nodded. “Figured even demons wouldn’t venture near there.”

Kait swore, and mounted up. She swung Jude on behind her.

“You’ll die here,” she said. “And soon.”

“Not without a fight,” He promised.

“Who cares?” Kait asked. “You’ll still be dead.”

Kait kicked at Clari-Ann. The gob-horse grimaced, but kept moving forward. When they cleared the walls, she bucked, and reared. Jude squeaked, and clutched at Kait’s waist.

Kait kicked again. Clari snorted, and stamped.

“Stop it!” Kait said. “We don’t have time for this.” A true statement. Even a group as big as half a town would be near impossible to track in the onset of dusk.

The horse pawed at the ground, furious. Her Rider may be furious, but taking it out on her was unconscionable. And not something the ugly brute was going to take lying down.

Kait sighed. “I’m sorry, stupid. Can we just go find some lost villagers?”

Silence. “There will probably be monsters to fight.”

Clari nodded, and tore off into the encroaching darkness.

Jude poked Kait in the back.

“What?”

“Whaa yeugh say dhat to him?”

“What?” Kait was only half-listening. What little sun was left was finding its way into her eyes. It was making concentration on any sort of direction difficult, and irritating.

“Are…” Jude sighed low. His jaw was no longer how it once was, and speech was extremely difficult for him “Are hey goin…gie?”

“Everyone dies, Jude.” Kait noticed that they were on a dirt path towards a forest that bordered the Waste. Idiotic townsfolk would follow a path, even if it was a perfect way for others to follow them.

“Nod nissse.”

“I wasn’t trying to be nice,” Kait said. “I was trying to save his life.”

Jude sulked in silence. Kait sighed. The kid wasn’t stupid. He knew that she was in a predicament. But one group of townsfolk was determined to save its hide, while the other wanted a legacy of being martyrs. She would help one, and damn the latter.

Clari thought about stopping, and letting them fight it out. But bipeds were always so confusingly obtuse. They just needed to stew in silence, and then forget what they were angry about. She kept clopping along.

The dusk turned into darkness. Jude looked up fearfully as the branches clawed over their heads. Everything seemed designed to scratch and tear at him.

Kait saw it differently. The woods teemed with life, even in the midst of night. Squirrels danced up and down the trees. An owl hooted in indignation. A herd of deer grazed nearby, silhouetted against the green.

It was unusual to see so much life awake. They were usually abed by this time of night, or getting ready to do so. Certainly seemed very relaxed in the presence of humans…humanoids.

Kait suspected elves. She tapped Jude on the leg. “Stay alert. And keep the hood up.”

There were two kinds of elves that Kait had ever dealt with. The city folk were elegant, clothed in the finest silks and great materials. Lording over the less fortunate with their skills in lore and magic. They held their own societies in major cities, a league above the other races.

The other type of elf was more naturalist. They resided in woodland communities, dwellings built into the trees. Constantly striving to be gardener and master of the great forests. Their magic was considered wilder, and perhaps more powerful than their city-dwelling cousins.

Kait patted the knife for reassurance. Two things were true of all elves. An absolute disdain for humans that bordered on outright hostility, and like all fae, a deathly allergic reaction to iron.

The demon girl stopped, and sighed. If she could surmise that there were elves, and in their own territory, that could mean only one thing.

“Hands up, Jude,” she said, raising her own. “We’re surrounded.”

“Indeed, demon.”

An elf dropped from one of the trees. His dark skin appeared to disappear into the night. Dressed in wooden armor, he wore his hair plaited in dark braids. And his wooden bow held a bronze arrow, a dull sheen in the faded light.

Kait moved an arm, protecting Jude from view.

“Don’t bother. As you said, you are surrounded.”

Kait looked one way, and then the other. Pairs of eyes peered out of the brush, behind tree trunks, and seemingly out of thin air. They stared back at her, haughty, mysterious, judging.

“Give me a reason not to kill you where you stand.”

Kait sighed, and tried again. “I’m just someone looking for the humans. Half a town’s worth, traveling along the border of the Waste.”

“To kill them?”

“Help them out,” Kait said. “They’ve got a curse, and it may follow them. Figure a couple extra pair of hands might be able to help out.”

The elf lifted a finger, and someone whispered behind him. Kait tried, but couldn’t make it out. After a few moments, the whispering stopped.

“You will come with us.”

Kait shrugged.

“Unarmed.”

She bared her teeth. “Not happening.”

The bows were lifted again.

“Most of them have iron in them, elf. What do you want me to do, disarm everything I’ve got that can hurt you? I’d end up in my underwear, and the boy beside.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “But if you elves don’t think you can handle a single fighter, her half-brother and a foul-tempered horse, I guess we could address your hurt feelings…”

An arrow thunked into her saddle, a hairs breadth from her thigh. Kait frowned, and looked at the elf.

“That supposed to scare me?”

“We missed on purpose, demon.”

Kait bared her teeth. “When I make a move, I don’t.”

The two matched gazes. Warriors, each trying to prove their superiority. Kait knew why the other had to do it. He was a commander, a leader of those beneath him. In the face of an enemy, he could show no weakness, no hesitation. That he hadn’t ordered an attack was already questionable. It meant that he wanted to seek reason.

A rational response to that would be to bow, and show submission. Let the elf have a small win, and live to fight another day. But Kait couldn’t seek reason. She couldn’t give in. If she did, if she ever let down her guard, she wouldn’t just be risking the lives of everyone she cared about. She’d be disappointing Harsk.

The two glared, impassive stones that were trying to will the other into crumbling. Jude looked around nervously, and burrowed deeper into her back. Clari-Ann grazed, bored. The elves stared, though whether it was at the demon or their leader was hard to tell.

The noise broke their concentration. A chanting, deeper into the forest. Kait nudged Clari-Ann, and they moved past the elves.

“I guess we might as well meet with whoever you’re talking about. This way, right?”

The dark-skinned elf grunted, but otherwise kept silent. Kait could pretend this was her decision, and he could say she decided to follow. Each a hollow victory, but ones they both could stomach.

The elves led Kait. Or perhaps it was goading, a clicking of the tongue or a sigh that showed displeasure. Kait quickly learned which one meant left and the other right. She let Clari-Ann lead the way, and considered her options.

Iron allergy. She had her knife, and there was a sword belted next to Lila. And the kid was fierce in a pinch. Not a lot, but the Rider was content. They weren’t defenseless.

They ended up in a clearing. A pale blue light filled the air, and Kait had to shield her eyes for a moment.

“Great Druid.” The elf dropped to one knee. With a rustle, the other elves followed suit. “We have brought a captive.”

“A Rider,” Kait corrected. She blinked, trying to force her eyes back to normalcy. Damn it, they had planned this. Tears ran down her face, but she was starting to see.

An elf man stood there. Tan-skinned, with long white hair that fall to his waist in a single braid. His hand was placed on a single tree, a knotted thing that seemed older than dirt. And given the lined face of a species that was supposedly ageless, he was possibly not that much younger than the plant.

The blue light stemmed from him and the tree. He smiled warmly, and held out his arms.

“You must be Kait Demonborn, of the legendary Riders of Harsk. Welcome to my grove.”

Kait let out a long breath of contentment. Finally, someone was recognizing her. “Thanks, Druid. Though maybe let your boys in on the fact that I’m one of the good guys.”

His eyes twinkled, and nodded to the dark elf. “They fight evil, dear brother. Though her appearance is…unique, I assure you she is a child of Life.”

Clari-Ann fought back a snort.

“How may I be of assistance, Rider?”

“Just passing through,” Kait said. “Looking for the inhabitants of Whitebrush.”

“I would assume that they would be in Whitebrush.”

“Not in the face of a curse.”

“Ah,” The druid nodded. “Those travelers. Yes, they passed this way.”

“Passed?” Kait groaned. “Some idiot townsfolk are walking spitting distance from the Waste, and you just let them walk by?”

The bows were at the ready again. Kait didn’t care.

The Druid removed his hand from the tree, and pointed a finger at the Rider. “Listen, you brute. You swing your sword, and valiantly dash from one disaster to the next. Fixing nothing. Do you know what I am doing?”

He turned back to the tree, eyes alight. “I and this forest are cleansing the Waste. We are turning the Folly of Man back to its glories. I am saving this world.”

Kait stuck her thumbs in her belt loop. Took a long snort, and spat on the tree.

“Insolence!” An elf called out.

“Blow it out your ear.” Her eyes narrowed. She looked at the high-and-mighty Druid. He had bent over, and stared at the spittle. His hand hovered just over it. He wanted to heal the tree, wipe it away, but could not bear to touch such a low secretion of a lesser being.

Kait had questions. Like how a devotee to life could be so heartless to turn away the desperate. How he could live with the hypocrisy. How his followers could not see how much this was his vain attempt to win glory.

And darker thoughts. Like how a curse had somehow ended up on a small town of humans that were too close to elves. A curse that not one of the elves had mentioned, or even seemed concerned about.

She wasn’t going to find any answers to these here. And staying longer might just lead to the elves wondering how she’d look as a pin cushion.

“Come on, kid, Clari-Ann.” Kait led the two away. “We don’t want to be around these poor elves any longer than we have to. We might just rub off on them.”

“Take care, Kait Demonborn!” The dark-skinned elf called out after them. “We elves will not forget you!”

No, they probably wouldn’t. Yet another thing to tick off the list.

Kait muttered under her breath as they moved deeper into the woods. Stupid elves and their hoity-toity racism all wrapped up in fashionable blah. Even the holier-than-thou Druid could not be bothered to care for anything human.

They cared more about these trees.

“Why…”

“Quiet,” Kait muttered. She clicked her tongue, and urged Clari forward. The gob-horse complied, moving to a jog, then a full gallop. The hooves stamped into the dirt, tearing a path through the forest.

This was dangerous. And it was stupid. But Kait couldn’t fight the rage boiling up inside her. She had seen the true culprits for the town of Whitebrush. And they didn’t care who they hurt.

She couldn’t kill them. Living people, on this plane. With only suspicions of having done evil. Harsk would never allow it, he would call the deed murder. But her feeling was so strong, she could almost call them truth.

Steam rose from her breath in waves as they pounded on through the night. Jude clutched tighter, scared. Kait hadn’t seemed furious before. Even when she fought demons, it seemed like a job. A necessary duty to cleanse the world of evil.

This was different. This was real rage behind those clenched fists that gripped the reins. The boy didn’t know what it was for, not entirely. But he didn’t think he wanted to find out.

A flickering light came up in front of them. Kait sighed, and urged Clari-Ann onwards. Finally, the damn idiots were found. This was at least one thing she was good at. Helping people deal with evil.

“I’m here, Whitebrush!” Kait called out. For years later she’d wonder why she said those words.

The lights paused. Kait rode into the light. There they were, ill-kempt travelers. Their bags – stuffed with everything they could possibly carry – were strewn all around the dirt. Carts, wagons, and a few traveling spells hung, useless in the night. Right next to their owners.

They all wore weathered fashionable clothes. Shoes that were designed for the rigors of the streets instead of the muck of the forest. All clothing humans who were discovering just how hard the great outdoors truly were for living.

Kait smiled. “Found you.”

They screamed, and fled the monster in the night. Left their bags, their wagons. Grabbed their loved ones, and ran in the opposite direction. Straight towards the Waste.

“No! STOP!” Kait shouted. She urged Clari on faster. But the sight of the beast, and the demon astride it, only added speed to the supposed prey. They doubled their efforts.

“You’ll die if you go that way!” Kait screamed. “Stop, you’ll die!” She couldn’t say the right thing. Any word she may have said, was taken as a threat.

The green lights of the Waste floated before them. An undefined border, nuclear magic that spread out before the Rider and those she was trying desperately to save. It was supposed to protect them from monsters, for they would never try and attack them the wrong side. And now they were being unwittingly herded towards the edge.

There comes a moment for every rescuer to consider the cost of saving. When the effort, when the sacrifice required to stop death, would only mean a worse fate for all. It is rational, and the only right thing to do. But it means placing one’s life as more precious than the dreams of another.

Kait skidded to a stop. Bright green lights loomed just in front of her, floating amongst twisted trees. Clari-Ann whinnied, and pulled backwards ten steps.

The Whitebrush villagers pounded forward, oblivious.

“Please, come back,” Kait pleaded. “Don’t…”

Far ahead, the screams got louder. High-pitched squeals, like that of a horse or a pig. The sound of ripping flesh tore through the air. Wings flapped off the ground, and broke against the boughs in the sky.

The green lights brightened, and grew. Faster, bolder, until they blinded Kait. Jude screamed, and turned away. Kait gripped him to her chest, holding him close.

“Don’t look, Jude,” She whispered. “Don’t look.”

Describing what happened to the villagers any further would be too much of a disturbance to the senses. A huddled mass of flesh quivered in the clearing. It made a sucking sound, desperately trying to break apart. Puffs of blood and hair floated around the mass, picking at it.

Those that had not been torn apart by the waves of energies besetting their bodies and souls, disappeared into the Waste. Maddened things, howling in a new language as they picked at their new bodies.

They were not survivors. They simply lived.

In minutes, the three sat alone. Huddled together, trying to find some comfort in the horror.

Kait and Jude cried freely. Jude the child, witness to sounds that no grown mortal should be forced to experience. He cried for the poor souls, the children.

Kait cried for their lot as well. But while Jude sobbed in sadness, she wailed in anger. Rage towards the stupid villagers, those who left and those who stayed. She screamed curses at the elves for turning those in need away.

And she berated herself. The mere sight of this body made others choose a fate worse than death. Facing the horrors of the Waste were preferable to being in the presence of Demonborn.

She knew this was how people were. And for one second, one bare instant, she had forgotten it. The town, the elves, all had treated her as something to be feared, and she didn’t listen. And now an entire village was doomed.

She had done it. She had killed all of them.

Her father would be so proud.

They stayed there until morning, in tears. And when the sun rose, Kait wiped away the tears. She looked back into the forest, towards the elves she knew were hiding.

“We know what you did,” she warned. “And one day, I’ll return.”

An arrow sailed out of the air. Kait snatched it, and held it aloft.

“You’ll need to do better than that.”

They left. To do better one day.

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Thank you for reading. I hope that this sparked a piece of magic for you this week.

Until next time.

Blessings,

Jack Holder

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