《By Myself》


 Chapter 1 – Those who live in fear [Prologue]

    I was hiding myself when they arrived. Mom picked me when I was playing with my friends and told me to not move until she came back.


    It was supposed to be another peaceful day, our village was located between a forest and a mountain, providing us with a large and varied hunting ground for us to feed everyone. Boars, bears, hinds, there were so many preys the hunters could chase and bring back so we would never fear the desolation of winter.


    Others less confident (or maybe just because they were more proficient in another field) gathered berries and plants for culinary addition or medicinal purpose. Herbs, flowers, roots, they even sometimes came to us children and shared a few of the fruits they scavenged for us to enjoy this sweet taste.


    We even had a few who spent their days at their workshop, a few who everyone labelled as ¡®artisans¡¯ or something and crafted many necessities for everyone. We didn¡¯t have a blacksmith to strike the iron or the copper, but I know we had a tailor, an herbalist, a woodcrafter and many more who helped maintain the village.


    I was still a kid and I knew nothing of the world back then, however I could at least tell we harmed no one and no one harmed us. We were just that: people who lived by themselves. Nothing more, nothing less.


    It was soon my 13<sup>th</sup> birthday, but there wasn¡¯t supposed to be any sort of celebration until my coming-of-age which would come several years later. I was still a na?ve, protected, sheltered, pampered little cute thingy loved and cherished by my parents. Every day I learnt something new. Every day I¡¯ve been taught and explained about this and that, and I enjoyed all of those days.


    Of course I also committed my share of mistakes as a young child, and got severely scolded and was harshly punished everytime I didn¡¯t comply with the rules. I quickly understood which were good manners and which were sinful acts, and behaved myself in order to make my parents proud of me.


    But today was not for teaching. I was told I could go and play with my friends, so I did with glee. We formed a small group and spent many hours together playing ¡®catch and flee¡¯ or ¡®hide and seek¡¯.


    Today we were going to play ¡®Wait and run¡¯. It was a simply but fun game where someone closes his eyes, counts from one to three then turn back, and everyone else had to run up to him and freeze while we was looking at us. I was very good at this game, so I always enjoyed being on the runners¡¯ side.


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    I was about to win a third round in a roll when it all happened.


    Our mother all arrived all in a sudden and fetched us. My friends and I felt a tad sad and frustrated because we couldn¡¯t finish our game, but all of that was washed away when we sensed a tinge of panic in their voice and their eyes. I didn¡¯t have time to say goodbye to my friends as I was so swiftly brought back home.


    My mom never answered my questions, I¡¯ve never been told what was the hurry or why I couldn¡¯t finish my game with my friends. She silently but hurriedly brought me to our house¡¯s hideout, then told me this short order before closing the entrance.


    ¡°Stay here, and wait for me to come back.


    ¡­¡±


    Then¡­ Everything turned dark.


    ¡­ It all became suddenly silent, as if the world behind the closed door ceased to exist.


    I felt nervous, left alone, stranded in this place, separated from my family. My eyes could not get accustomed to the shadows, the faint light circling the door¡¯s shape was the only sight which proved I was still awake, that this was no dream I could hope to escape.


    This was reality. Something was bound to happen sooner or later.


    ¡­ And it did.


    The battlecry echoed even through the walls of the hideout, there were voices I could recognize who shouted indistinguishable words, and also growls I did not comprehend at first. I heard metal clashing against claws, roars filled with wrath, soon replaced by echoes of pain, then fury, and also agony.


    I cowed in a corner, fearing for my life, for everyone¡¯s life. I prayed for my safety, for everyone¡¯s safety. The howling from both side made both the building I was hiding in and my own very soul shake, the whole world seemed to be hanging on one thin, fragile thread the invaders were about to cut.


    I couldn¡¯t take it anymore. I looked for the secret exit, hidden somewhere at the back of the room; a narrow tunnel blocked by a commode I had to push with all my strength just to make enough place for me to slide in. The room I was left in was dark, but this path here was painted in black, I often hit my head against the ceiling or scratched my arms against a sharp edge.


    At last there was light at the end of the tunnel, hidden behind branches and leaves that I had no difficulty pushing away. This escape route led me somewhere behind a hill near my village, I kind of already knew about it because I used this place in the past as a secret playing ground. From here, I knew where my village was located. I then ran at the top of the hill, looking in the direction of my home.


    But it was all gone, the houses everyone was living in were now¡­ Were now crumbled, ruined, reduced to ashes.


    I¡­ I didn¡¯t hear¡­ I heard no more voices¡­ No more clashes¡­


    Everything became silent. That was how the ending dawned on me.


    I was alone.

 Chapter 1 – Those who live in fear [Part 1]

    A charred blue sky was buried behind the cloudy veil, heated by the sun which was slowly finishing its course behind the horizon. It was a rare sight to watch fallen leaves carried away by the wind in this time of the year as the trees and saplings usually started wearing their green dress, signalling the beginning of spring. And yet there was still this small leaf, coloured in brown or grey tints, crawling on the fortification¡¯s floor, pushed away by the same invisible gushes of the wind which made the curtains breathe.


    Even though they blocked the sun¡¯s ray, their poor, thick but ruined appearance did not help prevent the men inside from shivering once or twice while they kept themselves busy chatting, sitting on boxes or standing across the circular room of the watchtower. One of them caught the curious leaf, cautiously observing it, thinking his mind was playing a trick, and when he understood it was a feather he blew upon it to let it fly away. A bird¡¯s feather wasn¡¯t a rare sight in the countryside, especially close to buildings where there were many orifices to build a nest.


    Inside the watchtower, nobody really wanted to openly talk because the chief was (probably) close by and nobody wanted to be reprimanded for such a meagre reason, but mostly because they all had to stand watch and make sure the town¡¯s surroundings looked safe. While twilight elapsed, the world became less and less bright, and with it the shadows covered more and more places until all of the lands they could watch would be covered by the veil of the night. The absence of light with the cumulated exhaustion from scrupulously watching for half a day made the men tired from stress and muscular pains.


    One of them yawned which helped relieve the tension in the room, allowing the time to flow again and another guard to sneeze.


    ¡°When¡¯s the relief team¡¯s comin¡¯?¡±


    To keep the men fresh, they had to switch groups every six hours at most, each group then watched over for the next quarter of a day. Morning, midday, evening and at night, everybody respected and adhered to the schedule. The man sitting next to the window guessed the time by the sun¡¯s position before answering with a shrug.


    ¡°Well, the sun¡¯s setting, so they should be coming soon¡­¡±


    As if to prove he was right, the door suddenly opened itself, letting another group wearing the same uniform coming inside, but with an additional layer to defend against the night¡¯s coldness.


    ¡°What the hell, guys. Why didn¡¯t you start the fire?¡±


    A big man grumbled when he arrived, forcing himself into a falsely haughty attitude. He could have looked or sounded threatening if it wasn¡¯t for the comically tone he took.


    ¡°Shut up and do it yourself!¡±


    Everybody enjoyed talking back to him, because everybody knew he never had any bad thoughts about others. Right now he played the clown card to ease up both group while switching their seats, however he was also known as the person who earned the captain¡¯s trust for his seriousness and devotion to his job, which was followed by him befriending everyone else in the casern. It did once happen he let out his rage does the talk, but nobody clearly remembered what happened back then so they simply concluded it was well deserved.


    ¡°I even promised a bottle for you guys. You all suck, you know that?¡±


    He could grumble all he wanted, everybody simply laughed or shook their head in amusement when he went and gathered the material next to the pyre located at the center of the room to light the fire. He was accompanied by two of his colleagues who helped him bring the required wood so the fire could last for the night, piling the logs in order to prevent the whole stake to crumble everywhere when the flames would start eating it. Piling them up was the most arduous task, because then lighting the fire wasn¡¯t that difficult: they only needed to heat up the heart of the pyre until a few embers emerged from the twigs, and if that still wasn¡¯t enough they still had a husk of flammable oil at hand.


    While the newcomers were arriving, the already present men all stood up in unison, gathering their belongings before departing for their own place. Many wore a satchel to carry their stuff, but only a few preferred a backpack as it felt less bulky, made in fabric or in leather according to their saving or if they knew someone who could craft one for them. They mixed together for a short while, sharing words and news before waving their hand, a line entering while a second exiting with heavy steps but a light heart knowing they could finally let someone else manage the job in their stead. The two groups switched at last, and the newcomers positioned themselves to begin watching the surroundings.


    ¡°Well? Where is the fire?¡±


    ¡°The twigs are too green I think, they don¡¯t catch fire¡­¡±


    ¡°Fuck it, I ain¡¯t spending the night without a fire.¡±


    The grumbling man took the husk and spilled a small quantity of oil on the stake of logs, making sure the wood was properly covered until droplets fell in inside. Seeing his impatient comrade, he gave up on his bow and started colliding a flint against a chunk of iron until the sparks came in contact with the flammable liquid and finally gave birth to a small flame, first artificial and ephemeral, lasting until the fire gulped down the oil, but producing enough heat for the twigs to fume then produced its own ember, crackling each time another droplet of oil dropped on it. They reacted as soon as the first fire appeared, feeding it with dried wood to let the flames grow and consume the whole stake.


    While a few were taking care of the pyre, the rest were busying themselves with other tasks: they gathered, tidied, looked for and scoured for any sadly forgotten ration they could snack on, but also for the weapons they would have to use for the next hours, inspecting their state, if they weren¡¯t rusty and could indeed be used as decent weapons.


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    Conventional weapons were only used against cretins who tried themselves against a trained guard. As militias, their task was to defend the village against any sort of threat. It could be about brigands or even the rival kingdom¡¯s army marching toward them, however that still wasn¡¯t the worst case they could live through this night: shadows that lurked, hungry and bloodthirsty, camouflaged behind the darkness and instilling an uncommon terror, weak as a vacillating candle, yet insuppressible. Nobody could fight against those darkness, only the fire they were feeding was able to.


    ¡°Ah shit, I think mine¡¯s broken.¡±


    ¡°Nah, don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re just dumb.¡±


    He took the weapon from his grasp and grumbled an inaudible insult when he understood where the problem laid. He quickly undid the mechanism, forcing the crank to unlock what his colleague unintentionally blocked before giving him back his weapon. The equipment looked like a two-handed mass, however the head had this clockwork appearance which let every onlookers believe the thing was incomplete.


    One of the militia brought back a box full of blades but with no pommel. Each man picked one, and then inserted it inside the mechanism, triggering the lock and completed a sort of axe with a blade too short to chop anything. This peculiar weapon had an official name, however the method to ¡®prepare¡¯ it seemed so familiar the populace gave it a more common name.


    ¡°Come on, guys! Warm up your skewers.¡±


    He didn¡¯t have to tell everyone as they were all already placing their weapon next to the pyre, putting the blade close to the flames in order to let the metal absorb the heat. In one or one and half an hour later, the blade would redden and brighten: it meant the weapon was at last usable.


    ¡°Alright, who wants to start watching?¡±


    The watchtower could afford three watchers at the same time, two spots were immediately taken by volunteer, they had to decide with a game of rock-paper-scissors who would be the third guy. At day, only the rain or the fog could hinder their visibility, but at night there was no man who could distinguish a bush from a bear from a distance, that was why each position was adorned with a thick curtain to prevent the watcher from being blinded by the burning pyre, allowing him to get accustomed to the darkness even if only so much.


    While the first were watching, the rest were leisurely chatting in the middle of the room. Nobody dared to sleep or nap as nobody could predict how and when something could happen, and they would react too slowly when in time of need. They gathered no too close to the pyre, but still close enough to pick up their skewer when needed, and kept themselves busy and awake with varied discussions and set of cards they brought with them. It only just begun, and nobody was anxious about the night to come.


    ¡°You really think we still have to watch?¡±


    ¡°Of course, you don¡¯t know what happens at night?¡±


    ¡°Yes yes, of course I do, but it¡¯s been so long we saw anything¡­ I¡¯m beginning to think they won¡¯t come here anymore, you see?¡±


    ¡°Meh, I don¡¯t think so. I heard one of the watchers from the northern tower saw something. There was even one who pissed himself when he heard a strange noise scratching against the door.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck is this stupid story?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m never on duty over there. That¡¯s what they told me the next day at the bar.¡±


    ¡°And you believed them? Man you¡¯re na?ve.¡±


    ¡°Shut up. You know why we heat up those skewers. You really think we¡¯d bother lighting the fire every night if we didn¡¯t need them anymore?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been fifteen years since monsters were gone. All that¡¯s left are myths, or survivors who¡¯ll eventually starve to death.¡±


    Long ago, humans lived night and day in fear. It was due to the monsters roaming, hunting and devouring the unlucky ones. To prevent those unfortunate events, each agglomeration quickly built the sturdiest wall they could: first a wooden palisade, then a wall made in stone and finally great ramparts which repelled those flesh-eating creatures. But that was not enough, as many monsters proved to be agile enough to climb them or just flew above them while laughing. The most terrible were the ones possessing an herculean strength and who destroyed the wall with their fists or their head, those monsters left a breach in the wall which allowed a lot more to invade the territory. Many towns were razed because of such cases.


    Then, one day, one of those behemoths backed away when facing a fire. Humans quickly guessed monsters were no different from any other animals, and tried to control those flames as soon as possible. They turned it into a weapon which they used to fight against the monsters, heroes came under the light and banished those creatures. It proved to be a war of attrition where the whole continent found itself lightened by this new weapon: the fire-lance. And when the last monster was slayed, humanity could finally enjoy a well-deserved peace. However, all they could accomplish was freeing them from the day¡¯s fright, as they found themselves caught off guard against the creatures of the night. Fortunately, those monsters rarely approached the walls, and everybody was happy that way.


    ¡°And even if one of those beasts dared to come close, we just need to poke them with our skewers and they quickly understand it¡¯s a bad idea to come here. That¡¯s why we see less and less of them. Your dude from the northern tower must have met a youngling, he was lucky.¡±


    Being lucky, as a night watcher, it meant meeting a monster that wasn¡¯t hungry enough to become aggressive. If the diurnal creatures showed dexterity or strength, those nocturnal tended to adopt more deceitful tactics. One beast possessed a long sticky tongue which could easily grab you even if several meters separated you from its jaw. Many guards lost their lives on the wall because they forgot to bring along their fire-lance while patrolling. The problem resolved itself with time thanks to those same weapons.


    The last night attack happened so long ago everybody kind of forgot to fear the monsters of the night, they were only evoked to remind why they shouldn¡¯t wander outside when the sun set.


    The wind blew through the glassless window, a cold breathe sending shivers in your spine, and announcing the coldest hours of the night. It was also at that time the next group should arrive, giving enough time for everyone to gather their belonging. During their turn, they switched three times their watchers, and one of them thought he saw a shadow moving, but as he couldn¡¯t confirm its presence they all quickly forgot about it. Someone knocked on the door then opened it, letting a man holding a torch coming in.


    Just like last time, the newcomers saluted the present guards, chatting for a short while before exchanging their place, the men taking their bags leaving the job of watching over the night to them. They left their fire-lance in the pyre; there is no fire-lance hot enough in this world, only blade too cold or badly-placed.


    In order to get back home, they first had to head downstairs then toward the nearest casern where they would return their equipment and uniform. Knife, leather armour, belt full of utilities and a portable first-aid kit which was an absolute necessity. It couldn¡¯t help with a severed arm or a sliced stomach, but sometimes a tight bandage was surprisingly enough to save a life. Relieved from their arsenal, the guards repeated ¡°good bye¡± or ¡°see you tomorrow¡± at each other before each taking their own path to home.

 Chapter 1 – Those who live in fear [Part 2]

    After the second night shift, the town usually became even more silent than it usually was. Even though the lamps were lit to light the streets, David saw no shadows walking or lurking around here, most certainly because all the citizens were already sleeping peacefully. He couldn¡¯t even see a cat hanging around here, those little animals enjoyed strolling in the dark, hunting pests or chasing after a kindred soul¡¯s share of food.


    After waving his hand and wishing a good night to his colleagues, he left the eastern watchtower and walked between the two-storeys, his body heavy after the long nocturnal watch and his heart longing for his comfy bed and a delicious hot soup with bread. He made sure to not leave the pedestrian¡¯s path along the way; the streets may be empty, but the main road was where the horses pulled the carts while sullying the paved floor with their excrements. Coming back home with a landmine stuck to his shoes would be a bad idea.


    Even though the town was divided into four districts, there were no evident difference between each of them aside from the houses¡¯ fa?ade which were painted in a distinctive colour: pale red for the eastern district, somewhat green for the southern district, a faint blue for the northern district and a sort of brown for the western district. The tints must have been eroded by the passage of time, but David paid it no mind as he walked toward the southern district.


    The night watcher was quietly humming a song he once heard in a bar, an epopee about a hero from the past who battled against mythical beasts to save his fianc¨¦e from the curse of petrification. The tale counted how he wielded fire both with the fire-lance and his spirit to overcome the challenges that awaited on his journey, a truly epic story featuring a great character. But again, it was something from a long past, a time in History where he was only a youngster who didn¡¯t care much about the world, a time where he was simply too young to even remember if he once lived through a monster¡¯s assault.


    He clearly remembered his parents, his foster-parents and his grand-parents sharing memories of the day they saw a monster, but even then it lacked this feeling of dread from their voice or in their eyes, another tangible proof that monsters were no longer a weighing threat on people¡¯s mind.


    After walking for a few minutes, following a path he was used to, David finally caught sight of greenish houses over there; he would soon be home, at last. A few more steps and he could finally rest until dawn, but a pebble suddenly fell in front of him, a vaguely orange thingy could be seen on the ground under the light of the lamp. Stupefied, David rose his head to look at the rooftop of the closest building, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing inside him as he saw¡­ Nothing.


    As a night watcher, he kind of understood what his duty meant: to prevent the nocturnal creatures to invade the town at night. That was why they stood half a night to watch over the surroundings, carefully observing all movements while silently hoping nothing would happen, because if it did then they had to pick up their fire-lance and fight back the monster. However, even though they could control fire, humans still couldn¡¯t see in the dark, and it was sometimes inevitable that one rampant would elude the watchers.


    So what if¡­ He gulped down his saliva, tightening his grip on his satchel while still cautiously watching over the rooftop, trying his best to decrypt a shadow lurking or a shape gazing back at him. Obviously he hadn¡¯t his fire-lance with him, meaning he had no way to fight against a monster. Maybe he should at least bring along a knife or something to defend himself, however regretting his lazy indecisiveness now was useless.


    Right now, he was defenceless. Maybe he should run or¡­ A tiny black form appeared in front of him, taking the appearance of-


    *Meoww~*


    The black cat meowed at David, then left as quickly as it appeared. It must have somehow understood he had no food to share with it.


    ¡°¡­ Stupid cat.¡±


    Feeling stupid for panicking over a dumb cat, David hurried himself home in a disgruntled pace. He arrived at his place, a two-storey house which let you feel a little cramped from the outside and yet was sufficient to lodge a family of four persons, maybe even five if they managed well the rooms. He looked for his keys, stored somewhere in one pocket of the satchel, then inserted them in the lock to open the door. There was no light in the hallway, meaning everyone was already sleeping. Fully aware of the current hour, David silently deposited his stuff somewhere ¨Che¡¯ll rearrange them tomorrow after a good night sleep- before heading to his room.


    Someone was already sleeping on the bed, so he carefully lied down on to avoid wakening up his neighbour. He almost thought he failed when the person faintly sighed, but as he saw no definitive movement he dismissed the idea and fell asleep.


    ¡­


    Once the sun was high in the sky, life started to roll again in the town. Everyone went to buy their morning bread and the ingredients they would need for midday and tonight dinners, some also took this opportunity to go and check the recent news on the public board installed in the central plaza. The board would usually be updated as frequently as possible, but people ended with the habit to only check it once then forget about the outside world for the rest of the day.


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    A young boy ran through the plaza, holding a pile of newspaper he was distributing atop his bicycle to any passer in exchange of a coin. This service was still new, and many people still preferred to listen to travellers in tavern to keep up with the changes outside, however, more and more of those travellers ceased their activities for many reasons.


    First and foremost, the monsters. All diurnal monsters were extinguished, or so the victorious claimed, however there was still a few who walked this land, survivors who hid from the heroes¡¯ blade and did their best to live long enough to¡­ Well, to not succumb to despair, maybe.


    Second, and as unfortunate as it sounded, bandits were still a present threat in the wild; looting, pillaging and ransacking caravans who failed to repel them with bodyguards. However, the kingdom¡¯s higher ups, now with enough time to devote themselves to their own nation instead of financing armies for world peace, could contribute to maintain the public order with patrols and tightened security on the roads. This led to a decrease in the number of bandit groups, and a better management of the trades between cities.


    The third and last reason people travelled less was due to the upbringing of the civilisation as a whole. Learning of the incredible pros from updating and upgrading their technology level, humanity actively adopted a united march towards the first steps of industrialisation. Individuals artisans were regrouped under the same guild, which evolved into a giant machinery where everyone worked in chain, finally branching on multiples firms who specialized themselves for a specific market while broadening their own horizons to a wider region.


    This was seen as the first milestone towards civilisation, the first globally acknowledged achievement made by humanity which marked the beginning of a new age in History, directly following the subjugation of the monsters by heroes.


    As for David, he was part of the mass who believed it was time to switch gears. As it was still an actuality, watching day and night against a possible monster invasion was a job he didn¡¯t mind being paid for, however the idea of going on an adventure to slay beasts and to claim their treasure was long gone in everyone¡¯s heart, because most of the world was already explored and scavenged by past heroes.


    The idea of exploring unknown territories for riches and fame did not tempt anyone anymore, adventuring generated less and less profit until it finally died down. The prospect of going on an epic journey became nothing less than a vain dream and adventurers¡¯ guild were closed one after the other until nobody took the job anymore. As for slaying the remaining monsters, it was left to the most stubborn ones, or to the kingdom¡¯s forces when the populace located one.


    Then what did David dream of becoming nowadays?


    A worker at a factory.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ What if they don¡¯t recruit anymore?¡±


    ¡°Come on Margot, I already told you multiple times. It¡¯s a developing sector where they are in constant need of manpower. My friends told me they kept asking for more people to work there.¡±


    While snacking in the back-office of his wife¡¯s shop, David had to once again convince her that everything would be fine if they decided to move out to the nearest city. Life was easier over there, they would have every conveniences next to them, and also the increasing demands in new employees at the factories that kept popping each months.


    ¡°Besides, the job pay way more than watching at night here. We could buy you a dress if you wanted to.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, David¡­ Life here is already enough, don¡¯t you think? We have a job, our acquaintances live here too¡­ I¡¯m not sure leaving is a good idea¡­¡±


    ¡°Listen to me: our life here is good, yes. But times are changing, and now life is about living our dream. And our dream is to give our children the best place for them, and the best schools and the most paid jobs are in the city. This is what you always wanted, right?¡±


    Margot actually worked as an assistant at her father¡¯s shop, her salary was meagre and almost enough to cover most of the fees. David was paid a little bit more, however after combining their income they managed to save a small economy over the years in case of emergency. And now, this emergency was Margot soon being pregnant. The doctors said it was too early to confirm the baby¡¯s wellbeing in her womb, yet that was enough to convince the couple their life was about to change.


    Thinking about her children, Margot sighed in contemplation, obviously anxious about their future in both situation. Living in this town was the safest, however she was aware of the difference between what this town had to offer and what they could have if they moved to the city. But moving to an unknown place brought its fair share of instability and risks, and she feared they would lose this gamble and end up in a miserable position.


    However, David had a completely different mindset. The city was the place they needed to be.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, David¡­ I¡¯m afraid. I don¡¯t think I can fit with the city lifestyle¡­¡±


    ¡°Margot. It¡¯ll be alright, don¡¯t worry. I have already talked with my friends in the city, they¡¯ve shown me around. It¡¯s incredible, you should have seen it!¡±


    The wife was still unsure, while the husband only wanted to care about his family.


    The sun was about to set, and David had to attend his night duty. He picked up his satchel, kissed his wife then whished her a good night before leaving for the watchtower. While on his way, he always walked in front of the town¡¯s temple, a sacred place to pray for the divinity who watched over humanity: Ouu, the Day Goddess.


    Long ago, when slaying monsters was still the norm, people usually gathered here to offer a prayer to the goddess in exchange of protection and blessings. This helped the humans a lot in repelling the fierce beasts and also in controlling the fire, some historians and religious even believed they would never have succeeded without her benevolence. As for David¡­ Well, praying was a thing from the past. Now everything was about money, luxury and the steam-coughing factories next to the cities.

 Chapter 1 – Those who live in fear [Part 3]

    Night watching wasn¡¯t an easy job, despite how David described his time spent in the watchtower. You had to constantly remain vigilant, both of the outside threats in case one of the watcher failed to spot a monster, or in the most dire case when he¡¯s killed on the spot by a thrown dart or when a small beast invading through the embrasure unfortunately jumped at his face, using either a deadly venom to poison the victim or sharp claws to lacerate his jugular, but they also had to mind internal threats as well.


    The first and most important objective of a night watcher was to ensure no nocturnal creatures bypassed their surveillance, and in case one of those approached a bit too much they had to poke it with their fire-lance. Sometimes, the monster reacted more aggressively than what they expected, forcing the guards to repel or eliminate the beast, always leaving more than one men injured in the fight.


    Fortunately, they hadn¡¯t been attacked at night since years ago, leaving only one last main priority they made sure to protect and care at all cost: the pyre. The fire was essential for many obvious reasons: to heat up the fire-lances¡¯ blade, to warm the guards standing inside the tower, to serve as a bright lamp which could turn the whole building as a sort of beacon from the outside, helping late travellers to find their way towards the safety of the town. Nobody was stupid enough to peregrinate under the veil of the night; they were all aware of the dangers, yet sometimes you would find a fool running around on the wrong side of the walls, however, those kind of people were either too afraid to continue and retreated to the town¡¯s gates or were quickly eaten alive by the monsters.


    Ever since he started night watching, David never encountered any of those events, none of his colleagues died, nobody ventured outside the walls, and the rare nocturnal creatures they spotted were only observing them from afar before disappearing in the darkness they came from. He was never the one spotting them.


    ¡°What do those monsters look like?¡±


    The question stirred the closer listeners, probably not expecting such question to be asked in the middle of the night.


    ¡°You never saw a picture book?¡±


    ¡°Of course I did, dumbass. I¡¯m asking because they¡¯re obviously exaggerating with the teeth. You once told us you saw one of them showing itself at the edge of the forest before it walked back to its lair, right? So tell us.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck are you expecting from me¡­¡±


    The man scratched his chin while forcing himself to remember what he could.


    ¡°It happened long ago, when I was switching with the other group for the evening¡¯s shift. Just when I was about to enter this cozy watchtower, I caught a strange thing in the corner of my eyes. At first I wasn¡¯t sure what it was, because it was sitting at a hundred meters or something from us. It looked like a large bear with dark fur¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure at the time, so I went and grabbed the binoculars to get a better sight of the beast¡­ And man, that wasn¡¯t a fucking bear.¡±


    The guards not on watch duty started to gather around, carefully listening to the tale of the veteran. Only a few of them were holding back their breath, either because of the tension or to not disturb the storyteller, the rest were only listening because it sounded interesting, even though they already knew how it ended.


    ¡°The thing was at least twice the size of the animal, and it was just sitting there observing I don¡¯t know what in the distance. I didn¡¯t care about it, I was only¡­ Mesmerized, by the beast.¡±


    ¡°You wanted to bring it home or what?¡±


    Someone threw a joke when the man was narrating his memory, it slightly angered him but he shrugged it off with only a displeased face.


    ¡°So I was saying¡­ It was sitting there, staring at something. Then he probably noticed the sun was about to set so he stood up to leave¡­ And the beast was¡­ HUGE! Way more than what I thought! His limbs must have been five meters long, and the way it walked made me thought it was a spider crawling. Damn what a horrible sight¡­¡±


    Three guards were nodding in agreement, they probably also spotted one such creature while the sun was still above the horizon, the picture must have re-emerged in their mind, giving them goosebumps simply by being reminisced of the monster¡¯s form. Looking at it from afar filled you with an impressive feeling of dread, now imagining fighting against such creature with a mere hot stick was something else. Just thinking about struggling against such a nightmarish being could give a heart-attack to any weak-minded person once they were aware of its full appearance.


    ¡°It must have been an adult. Luckily those grown-ups know that it¡¯s foolish to come up here, we¡¯ll never have to face such a beast.¡± A man commented on the side.


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    ¡°So all that¡¯s left for us to fight are the younger ones? That sounds alright.¡± A guard commented, probably picturing himself fighting back against a creature he was on par with.


    ¡°Yeah, but don¡¯t forget they¡¯re still monsters.¡±


    ¡°So what of it? The heroes who battled against them were no different from us, you know?¡±


    ¡°Use your brain a little, will you? Can you win against a bear?¡±


    The man pondered on the question for a short while before giving a vague answer. A bear was a phenomenal animal, it wasn¡¯t much of a threat yet it held enough strength to behead an adult with one swing of his paws. Adding on top of it the thick fur which was surprisingly more efficient to divert blades than what people actually expect and you obtained a fierce enemy to face.


    A man could probably win against a bear with the proper equipment, here the guards were arguing on the outcome while agreeing they would go with their leather armour and their heated up fire-lance, which gave them an already huge advantage over the beast. And even then, the fight would be tough.


    ¡°Now try to remember what differentiates a monster from an animal¡­¡±


    ¡°Lifespan?¡±


    ¡°Oh I know! The urge to kill mankind!¡±


    ¡°¡­ Magic aptitude, you retards.¡±


    According to researchers in the field, every living being possessed a soul. Plants, animals, humanoids, even monsters. Every living being possessed both a physical and a spiritual body. The physical body was easy to understand: it represented our body made in flesh and bones, the material aspect of us which can interact with the world we could observe. As for the spiritual body, its functions were still unclear to this day, however everyone agreed on the same point: it helped them draw energy from the immaterial plane to summon magic.


    But telling everyone ¡°all you had to do is gather some energy from a plane you can¡¯t even see nor touch and then somehow visualise the result you want to get¡± wasn¡¯t helpful at all. Even worse than that, it was partially wrong, which fortunately naturally helped regulate the number of spellcasters in the kingdom in addition to the many laws implemented in order to prevent any fools to try themselves in this arcane art with no knowledge whatsoever.


    This was also why animals couldn¡¯t simply walk in and cast a random spell, as the whole process required the caster to fulfil a few conditions. Monsters fulfilled some of them, which was what made them more dangerous than a wild animal.


    ¡°Just imagine fighting against a bear, but the thing is bigger, stronger, and can even more strengthen itself with magic. You still feel like playing hero?¡±


    Nobody argued back, half was already convinced that facing a monster was a do-or-die situation while the others were still trying to draw theories in their mind. What if¡­ What if¡­


    ¡°You still think you have a chance? Okay, so everyone here who can use magic raise their hand.¡±


    Nobody raised their hand. Nobody was proficient in magic here, they didn¡¯t even knew how to summon magic in the first place. Wielding a fire-lance was the right choice because it was the only tool which could drastically inflict damage to monsters, but would that really suffice if the monster could use magic when you didn¡¯t even comprehend how to do it yourself? Now realising their foolishness, everybody went silent under the gloomy atmosphere.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    ¡°HOLY SHIT!!!¡± One of the watchers shouted suddenly, breaking the silence inside the watch tower. ¡°MONSTER, GUYS! MONSTER!¡±


    As if to prove his point, a scratching noise could be heard coming from the roof. It was too loud to be made by a stranded cat or a rat.


    Everybody stood up from their spot in high alert, the other watchers retreated from their seat but only a few close to the pyre had the presence of mind to pick up the heated weapon before readying themselves for anything. Everything became hectic all of a sudden, the men grew nervous as nobody could tell the whereabouts of the beast. Someone yelled the order to go outside and to find the monster; it was time to fulfil their job as night watchers and as guards of the town.


    Everyone went and picked a fire-lance from the fire, then hurried themselves through the doors leading on the fortifications. Hesitation was forbidden as it could slow everyone¡¯s pace, and thus leading to undesired casualties if the monster took advantage of the disorder. Half of the men ran towards the northern wall, David followed the group leading to the southern wall with both haste and anxiety. Meanwhile, a last one stayed inside to ring the bell, announcing to the town the night attack while also asking for reinforcements from the nearby watchtowers and caserns. Someone grumbled the veteran jinxed it with its story, nobody had the spare time to laugh at it, or to retort when thinking about it.


    Once outside, the dark sky gazed back at the guards, the stars being outshined by the radiance of the fire-lances¡¯ blade which emitted a light bright enough to also serve as a torch, illuminating the surrounding stones and allowing everyone to look for the monster. But even if they tried very hard, nobody spotted the monster: it wasn¡¯t standing on the roof, it wasn¡¯t climbing up or down on the wall. A guard was observing the town from atop, doing his best to catch a glimpse of a strange figure walking through the lamps¡¯ light, but even he couldn¡¯t see where the monster has gone.


    Even though nobody knew where it disappeared, David tightened his grip on his fire-lance. He slowly became sceptical about this monster.


    ¡°Did it go away?¡± Someone finally asked, deducing from the clear absence of the monster¡¯s presence.


    One by one, the guards started to acknowledge that the threat may actually be gone, they were beginning to loosen the grip on their weapon until all of the tension was gone. Nothing more happened, which greatly alleviated everyone. One of the men even quietly laughed at the situation, telling everyone how they¡¯ve actually frightened the monster with their appearance and their skewers.


    As the event ended peacefully with no injured, everybody gathered inside the watchtower to continue attending their duty, throwing jokes about the monster shy nature as if their chaotic reaction contributed to it running away.


    ¡°We still need to report the incident. Theor, can you go and tell the northern watchtower that all¡¯s fine here? David, you do the same south. I¡¯ll go tell the captain what happened.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing.¡±


    Having received his order, David once more opened the door and went for the tower located at the south of the town.

 Chapter 1 – Those who live in fear [Part 4]

    The rules when patrolling on the walls at night was that they must at least be three guards at the same walking together. Three was a sort of golden number when fighting against monsters when defending a settlement: one fought at the front, the second supported the frontliner from the back while the third¡¯s role was to run away in case the monster was stronger than expected and they needed a stronger force to deal with it. That was why two more guards went with David with both their weapon and their flask of water.


    It may sounds insufficient against such threats, however, the fact remained that only younglings dared to approach humans¡¯ agglomerations, the adults being fully aware of the retribution they would face if they dared to attract too much attention, and younglings were as hard as bears to deal with. Even monsters could learn lessons from History.


    David found himself outside once more, having to face against the coldness of the night without the cozy warm of the pyre nor the comfort of others¡¯ presence. The three hurried themselves with their task at hand, desiring nothing else but returning inside the watchtower once they were done with the report.


    A strong wind passed by David, his comrade almost lost his cap because of the sudden gust. But he heard a dull sound behind him, the same sound a soft object would made when it was dropped on a solid floor. He looked behind him out of curiosity, only to notice the legs of his partner lying on the ground. The upper half was missing, somehow crudely ripped off by something. A monster, perhaps.


    The thought froze both David and his colleague in fear, before the latter shook him violently.


    ¡°IT¡¯S STILL HERE! RUN! RUN!!!¡±


    The three-man formation was made in order to give time to the settlement to build enough force to repel the monster, however the two survivors were only listening to their fear which dictated they had to run for their life if they didn¡¯t want to die tonight.


    David ran with all his strength, still holding the fire-lance as a morale support against the nocturnal deathbringer. His colleague was sprinting in front of him, definitely not caring about maintaining the group cohesion or even the fire-lance he dropped before racing for the watchtower. It was when David saw it. A hand appearing from the darkness of the night, a silhouette drawn from the dark sky abruptly fell on the man in front of him, leading to a sudden death where blood splattered everywhere.


    The inscrutable shape¡¯s movements were blurred behind the obscurity, a black veil engulfed the victim¡¯s body, hiding it from David¡¯s line of view. But even though he couldn¡¯t see it, he was still able to recognize the sound of the flesh being torn apart, his terrified mind picturing the corpse being eaten under his gaze.


    Then, the darkness looked back at him. Two fiery eyes were piercing his soul, he felt drained just being stared by the unknown creature that was standing before him. In a last attempt, David pointed his fire-lance at the monster, the heated blade shining against the devouring darkness. A grave growling echoed from the abyssal night before the monster departed.


    It was gone. Again. But where did it go? From where would it come? David was trying to look in every direction, but of course to no avail.


    He finally pushed himself to run back to the eastern watchtower as it was closer from his position. Maybe. His mind wasn¡¯t clear enough to remember how much he walked between the two towers. All he knew was that he was in a run-or-die situation. Could he outrun the creature?


    He felt a strong wind was about to blow pass him again. He didn¡¯t have time to think before he was grabbed, suddenly lifted from the wall he was standing on. He lost his fire-lance due to the shock, the weapon falling from the sky where he disappeared. From here, he could see the town in its entirety. ¡°Just how high am I in the sky?¡± he wondered.


    He firmly gripped the monster¡¯s limbs, terrified at the idea the beast would drop him from a high altitude. He felt a constant gust pushing against his clothes, as if he was flying, as if he was a mouse caught by a bird of prey who was bringing him back to its nest as spare food.


    As if to respond to his thought, David was suddenly released from the monster¡¯s grip, falling on a floor made of solid branches under a litter of leaves to soften it. As soon as he could touch the ground, he readied himself to face the monster, not as an act of bravery, but because his instinct hurled him to do everything that was possible to not die here.


    Then, his abductor appeared in front of him. He still couldn¡¯t see it clearly, the shape only pictured a large, hard-to-describe beast coming from the shadows. David backed away while shouting at the monster, pleading for his life in the hope the monster would listen to him. But all it did was slowly approaching him, his pair of glowing eyes still clung to him. He suddenly stood up and ran somewhere, but the beast swiftly leapt at him, pouncing him against the ground. His struggle was easily suppressed by the monster¡¯s natural might, an overwhelming difference in their strength weighed on David, restraining him under the creature¡¯s gaze. That was when David could distinctly perceive it, the darkness no longer hiding the monster¡¯s true form.


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    An elegant woman overlapped him, long purple feathers covered them both from the chill of the night, but her charming, snow white skin, alluring as it could be, was still drenched in his colleague¡¯s blood. The creature licked its reddened lips with a smile, its eyes locked on David¡¯s.


    ¡°A harpy!¡± The monster¡¯s name appeared in his mind.


    The beast¡¯s eyes were still glued to David¡¯s frightened glare, a joyful expression drawn on its face as it approached its canines to the man¡¯s throat. He was about to be butchered like a cow brought to a slaughterhouse¡­ But all he felt was a tongue leisurely licking his sweating skin. It was a little painful, fearful, but David understood the monster wasn¡¯t trying to taste him. It was leaving a kissmark on his neck, it was rubbing its naked body against his, a solitary moan resonating from the darkness reached David¡¯s ears as he felt his heart beating faster.


    It was¡­ Certainly alluring. But it was still the beast who killed two of his colleagues in one sweep. He shouldn¡¯t be feeling safe in its embrace, he shouldn¡¯t be feeling this way. Maybe the monster sensed his confusion, it retreated slowly, its eyes glowing like pure ambers in the dark of the night. The picture inspired fear in his mind, but also¡­ Attraction. The jewels gazed back at him with a comely shine, a pretty sight which slowly but surely appeased him, soothing his nervous thoughts for as long as he could contemplate them.


    Then, the creature reduced the distance which separated their face to kiss him, tasting his dry lips now covered in a thin layer of saliva, smoothing even more their intertwined mouth. Feeling audacious, David timidly extended his hands to touch the monster¡¯s skin. When his cold fingers grazed it, it reacted with a little surprised startle, but quickly let itself be savoured by the man¡¯s curious desire to feel its form.


    The moving hips were large enough for him to be easily circled by its legs, the tender touch allowed his fingers to gently plunge themselves in its warm and round derriere he could press against him. He felt his temperature rising due to the excitement, but his body was already sending him the urge to relieve himself with the monster that laid on him. The burning desire to indulge himself cured him from his fear. To hell with decency, he wanted to do it with her.


    David slipped his hands between their stomach, breaking their kiss and allowing himself to find his belt to try unbuttoning it as fast as he could. The cold metal clang when he unfastened the link, he could finally take off his pants and start enjoying the harpy¡¯s body, his was already big enough, ready to penetrate inside the monster¡¯s womb. He thought he heard the harpy quietly laugh while feeling him against her, a sign they both understood each other. He helped himself with a free hand, moving on his own to insert the first part before the harpy let herself take the rest by herself, grinning with a cute moan to prove the pleasure she was inflicted by the man.


    She started with slow movements to ease herself, but the man was already impatient and went to grab her hips before thrusting vigorously against the monster. It was no different from the time he did it with his wife, yet the sentiment was even more exotic because that wasn¡¯t his wife nor was it a human. The monster crisped at first, but quickly released its built-up tension to let the man enjoy himself and her while they were at it. David wondered if the monster had no experience in this field as it seemed more passive than what he first expected, driving him madder with the belief he could have a taste of a monster¡¯s first time.


    Short and rapid moans echoed inside the room, a feminine and seducing tone rang in his ears, an exciting song chirped by the harpy sitting on top of David. Pushed by his desires, the man rolled on himself to corner the monster against the ground. Finding himself above a blushing beauty strengthened his resolve to be harsher with her. Her feathery touch was tickling when you only grazed it, but provided a silken feeling when the wings embraced his sweating body. The sweet sheet warmed him, caressed him at each of his movements, everytime his everything went in and out he would feel the feathers fondling him from his back to his ankles. The charnel pleasure was unparalleled, in addition to the awareness of being above of a monster, being in a position of superiority over a creature which defied humanity instilled him with a sparkling force, a drive to harness her, to make her his own.


    His mind went momentarily blank just before we was about impregnate her, maddened by the lustiness of embracing the harpy with his whole body. He felt himself being emptied deep inside her, his arms tightening against the monster¡¯s hourglass shape to prevent anything from separating them until he was done. David let himself soak in the harpy¡¯s body, both were gasping for air after the intense act and the mind-numbing pleasure of enjoying themselves. He couldn¡¯t clearly feel the monster¡¯s chest against his because of the armour he was still wearing. Judging it was utterly foolish to keep such bothersome clothes on him, he quickly undid the many clips before throwing the garment away.


    From there, he could have a clear sight of the monster¡¯s wellbeing. With her legs and wings spread on the ground, her rapidly rising breast and her flushed cheeks, she filled him with a sentiment of dominance, a desire to still keep at it. It was a shame the woman-part of her body displayed such a light bosom, but the two shining ambers were still looking at him, untired, burning with an ever-lasting will to welcome him again in her embrace. The sight was enough to encourage David for a second round.


    He let himself lie against the harpy, their body glued to each other while he started pounding against her hips once more. Happily or painfully moaning, the harpy enlaced David with her grands wings, keeping him warm while he indulged himself in the monster¡¯s drenched flesh. They both kept each other close, the man toying with the monster¡¯s offered body until he was finished again, but pursued this game as he guessed he would probably not have another chance in his life to mount a monster.


    The night was young, and David came inside her five times before falling asleep in her cuddle.

 Chapter 1 – Those who live in fear [Epilogue]

    When morning shined through the canopy¡¯s veil, it was basic instinct for Philad to wake up from her slumber. Her nest was built atop a large and sturdy oak, it wasn¡¯t that high of an altitude to construct her hideout, but it was better than nothing.


    The first thing she noticed was the stench her body emitted; the mixture of sweat, semen and blood permeated her cozy home with a smell her nose quickly abhorred, categorizing the scent as a nasty one she had to somehow get rid of. Maybe coating the entire nest with pollen would help mask the scent until she could clean it up.


    Feeling tensed from the night she spent, she stretched her long limbs, opening her wings and extending her feathers as far as she could to alleviate her morning numbness. Fresh and ready, Philad jumped on top of the nest to retrieve her clothes, tainted in the dry blood she spilled last night. Removing it would prove to be a hassle, but she didn¡¯t mind those things at all, as long as she could maintain the habit in decent shape it was worth it. The clothes had that much value in her eyes.


    Folding it between her strong feathers, she went back inside to check on his guest and see if she could do anything more with him. However, the poor thing was now a bloody mess, only enough to sustain her for a day, or maybe two if the next hunt resulted in a fruitless effort to catch a prey. He was an interesting male to mate with, she never encountered a man who showed such feverish desire to claim her until now. Well, he was actually the first male she brought back home, nonetheless she didn¡¯t expect him to embrace her so fiercely, he was so aggressive she felt a tinge of fear during the whole act, a cautious sentiment which whispered to her she shouldn¡¯t let him continue that way. But it was so intense, so true¡­ So oppressing, so terrifying.


    She was thankful it all ended well in the end, as inviting a member of the folk who extinguished her people was a risky gamble. What if he struggled to the end? What if he actually brought one of those short, sharp weapon with him and struck her during the act? What if it didn¡¯t end well at all for her? The thoughts filled Philad¡¯s head with dreadful pictures, seeing herself bathing in her own blood, drowning in agony while the human male would laugh at her, being glorified for striking down the last harpy. Appalled by the possibility, Philad found herself crooking in a corner, shaking in fear with the image of her own deceased body clear to her eyes. She shook her head to clear her mind of such negative thoughts, because she was still alive, because she was uninjured, because she could still live to see another day in this unequitable world. Her eyes met the man¡¯s corpse, lying a short meter away from her.


    She thanked him from the bottom of her heart for being such a compassionate mate, and also for being such a delicious midnight snack. She couldn¡¯t tell if she was true to her origins, but the hunger she felt while he was on top of her grew stronger and stronger until she couldn¡¯t resist anymore. A sad development, or a natural occurrence for her species? She didn¡¯t knew. She wished she could have learnt about it, however, she never had the chance to be educated in those fields. That wasn¡¯t so bad, she reassured herself, but probably an experience she wouldn¡¯t relieve again for now.


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    Because it was time for breakfast, and also because her stomach growled with appetite, Philad took another bite in the man¡¯s corpse. The tastiness of his flesh brought a faint joy to the harpy, a feeling she couldn¡¯t exactly describe with her own words. Stains of blood coloured her jaw in a fluidic bright red, tickling her a bit as she wiped it with her wing¡¯s feathers. She would wash them later in the morning, for now she had other things to think about.


    Hunting on the human¡¯s town¡¯s walls was the right choice, as they were leisurely strolling on top of them as if they asked to be picked by her talons and serve her as dinner. Boars, beers and hinds were quite nutritious, but because they were covered by the trees¡¯ branches it didn¡¯t help her at all in dropping on those kind of prey. Her eyes were sharp enough to scout through the canopy, however the simple thought of damaging her clothes prevented her from leaping too harshly on them, leaving her no choice but to sometimes feast on other delicacies. Herbs, flowers, roots, she even succeeded in gathering a few fruits to enjoy their sweetness, which was a rare memory she cherished from her childhood.


    Her stomach half-filled with human¡¯s meat, Philad once more jumped at the top of her nest to begin her short journey to the nearest river in order to properly clean herself and her garment. The habit was a refined robe her mother was dressed in for special ceremonies, a gown specifically made for those days when everyone gathered together in the same place to share their time in a joint gesture towards a greater being.


    Before leaving, Philad repeated what her mother taught her to do every day whenever she saw the sun rising. Before the blazing light, the harpy kneeled, spreading her wings in a dignified manner which displayed all the respect and the love she felt for her goddess. There, a gentle hand caressed her cheek. She looked up to look at the person, but noticed she was alone since the beginning. Another illusion¡­ No, another souvenir from her mother, an undying motherly love for her cherished daughter, or another sign she was loved back by the Day Goddess. A smile drew itself on her face: a joyful smile, but drawn on her sad expression for losing everything that day.


    ¡°The Day Goddess smile to every people who wake up on the morning, and who smile back at her.¡±


    Philad remembered the words her mother taught her, a testimony from a past spent in the monastery as the priestess¡¯s heir, still true and ingrained in her very soul to this day. It truly was a miracle she managed to survive for so long, but she only did because she was looked after by a greater being, someone who cared for her. After praying, Philad bowed one last time, then opened her wings to depart for the sky.

 Chapter 2 - Those who dwell in the dark [Prologue]

    It took two centuries for humanity to realize fire wasn¡¯t only a weapon to bring harm, but also a powerful source of controllable energy. They actually discovered that the reactions induced by the heat could become the trigger for many engineered mechanisms and automated labour, making it a turning point in History.


    As the foes of old date became scarce, the flames bestowed upon mortals by the Day Goddess lost its first and main meaning as a blade against the creatures of darkness, therefore shifting into a practical and useful tool to decimate other kind of enemies. Whatever presented itself as a threat was made into the target of a crusade, another excuse to keep this divine spell in one¡¯s hand.


    However, as time passes, there was less and less beings for humanity to slay. Beasts of mythological origins became extinct, races with many names disappeared into oblivion. After the creatures of the night, monsters of the day were the next target of this heartless extermination they call a war.


    With only a few creatures and monsters roaming this human dominated world, this powerful blade had to be pointed at something else. Old scrolls mention an inevitable war between humanity itself, but the lack of historical proof had made them as fictional delusions from paranoid characters. Something easily acceptable, and forgettable.


    Nowadays, if fire-lances were a relic of the past still used to this day, big and strong furnaces were the next trend of the flames usability. Heat could melt metal, but it could also move objects if used correctly, and movable objects can become powerful machines, then complete industry for a worldwide revolution.


    What a human could accomplish, a machine could succeed ten times better and faster and safer and cheaper.


    But the transition took time to implement in every towns of a nation, and some had to wait two generations before seeing the first light being installed in their street, a sign their place was already three level of technology behind the capitol.


    Yet, despite the blatant disparity in the regions¡¯ share of engineering and machinery, those inventors and thinkers kept moving science forward like an unleashed and unrelenting wave of novel ideas and brilliant discoveries, pushing to even greater heights the lives of many.


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    Heat became movement, and movement shaped the new age of this world.


    However, unlike the short-lived embers of extinguished flames, the ones believed to have disappeared actually persisted, kept breathing under a guise, swinging atop the thin line separating a painful survival and an ending.


    They were called monsters, but they were also given another name to shortly describe their barbaric behaviour: non-believers, for they never prayed to the deity governing over the day. They never needed to, because they already possessed every tools to succeed the most basic task of living another day.


    Whether a bone-crushing strength or a skin harder than steel, it was no wonder humanity felt disadvantaged against these naturally-gifted rivals. Over time, this disadvantage turned into envy, jealously, then hatred. The bloodbath began.


    The result was limpid: humans dominated the world, and monsters had to hide in order to not be purged anymore.


    Weaker and devastated, entire populations moved away to clear the region, escaping the tides of civilisation to construct their own little refuge.


    Worn out and beaten, they ran away as far as they could, however, sometimes that¡¯s just not possible.


    Outside the forest lays the desert, unforgiving and dry. Outside the fertile plains prevails the wasted land of the north, frozen and inhospitable. A few monsters could still survive in those harsh environments, while others couldn¡¯t.


    So they fought back, protecting what was left of their territory. And ultimately lost.


    They thought they were going to disappear, to be slayed and become history. That was why they started doing the same things any sane and desperate human being would try to do in this same situation.


    They prayed.


    Prayed to a higher entity, something that would not try and devour them, but, on the contrary, would do its best to protect and love them.


    Dreading the god of the night, they turned their eyes to the goddess of the sun, asking for a little bit of compassion.


    Whenever one of the monsters smiled at the sun, the goddess smiled back.


    She would love them. She would cherish them, just like she cherished the humans when they drove back the darkness.


    This marked the start of a new story, the first step toward a greater future. They became believers.


    It should have solved at least a couple of their fatal problems.


    Little did they know that, even if the sun could be shared, some people never intended to.

 Chapter 2 - Those who dwell in the dark [Part 1]

    The night never did forgive any trespasser in its domain, its hollow plane dutifully guarded by the incessant flesh-eating creatures roaming through its impenetrable veil. Stalkers hidden behind the unseen, waiting for the unprepared prey to lose its way.


    Alas, this simple-minded tactic could work on the witless animal looking for a snack, however, it rightfully proved to be inefficient against a more adaptive target like the humans.


    Following the well-known three-man rule, the trio walked between the trees in an uneasy hurry. Under normal circumstances, all three of them were supposed to hold a lit fire-lance which could serve both as a torch and a weapon to repel the nocturnal creatures. But current circumstances did not allow them such luxury.


    One was leading the way, fully-knowing which path to take despite the blinding obscurity while lightening its way with the weapon. The other two were too busy carrying a heavy weight with them, carefully dragging it by clutching on the cloth covering the large luggage.


    ¡°Ah, shit. Fuckin¡¯ root!¡± grumbled the man carrying at the front.


    ¡°Be quiet!¡± whispered his comrade helping him, ¡°You want us killed?¡±


    Provoking too much noise in the middle of the forest at night sounded like a terrible idea, unless you wished to attract undesired attention.


    ¡°Shut up and move, dumbass!¡± commanded the third one leading them.


    Although making noise was quite suicidal, they were already pretty attractive with their bright torch which served both as a repellent against the darkness and a beacon to its concealed monstrosities.


    The men wore clothes that could be labelled as civilian, tight leotard sewn with cheap cotton, a long coat which didn¡¯t seem to be quite resilient and colourless socks paired with short boots. Their meagre appearance was sufficient to categorize them in a lower class of society, yet one still able to live leisurely in the streets of the city.


    Despite the dirt sticking to their legs, the three didn¡¯t mind at all walking through this grimy and cumbersome path. Delivering the package was way more important than minding some mud on one¡¯s shoes.


    Alone in the dark, the canopy masking the stars and any sort of landmark disappearing in the depth of the night, it was merely thanks to the guide¡¯s solid knowledge of the local map and his rock-like guts they managed to not get lost in the woods. As proof to comfort the others, he pointed to a distinctive sigil carved on the trunk of a birch, an emblem well-known in the kingdom, and especially familiar to those three.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± commanded the leader, opening the path with his light with a renewed energy, born from the satisfying yet still not tasted sense of going back home, far and safe from the dangers lurking around them.


    Somehow rekindled, the trio walked a bit faster, and the more they moved forward, the more they started to recognize the area, even for the one who was the less accustomed to the remote place. At last, even the freshest of the crew could recognize the location: a short descent immediately followed by an arduous slope, and in the middle of all of this stood a black hole with its menacing teeth sharpened by the lack of visibility coupled with one¡¯s lugubrious imagination.


    Letting a sigh of relief escape from their sore throat, the three men closed the distance with the cavern¡¯s entrance before waiting for the sentinel on duty to catch sight of them. As per the protocol, it was established that, unless in case of a dire emergency, nobody was to rush inside the hideout without a proper check. This simple rule was to make it easier to distinguish friends from strangers, just in case some random fellows decided to visit the cave without any prior notice.


    Then, as if the black veil was disturbed by the approaching fire, a bright light emerged from the shadows with a clunky sound, blinking once to allow one figure to appear from behind the hidden door.


    ¡°What¡¯s the password?¡±


    An easily answerable question to the used folks here.


    ¡°Leon sucks ass.¡±


    ¡°That was yesterday¡¯s password.¡±


    Many people made mistakes in their lifetime. Sometime, a mistake made at the wrong time could decide one¡¯s fate. Happens too often.


    ¡°Well he still sucks.¡±


    ¡°Well said. Come in, quickly.¡±


    Fortunately, the one wielding the fire-lance was informed but also used to those secret communications, and successfully proved he was part of the same group. Now allowed entry, the trio passed through the door which disappeared in the rocks, leaving no trace of light to the outside.


    After going through the secret passage, their first reflex was to frown while diverting their line of sight from the shining lantern hanging about the round table. Too used to the obscurity, now they had to adapt to this dimly lit environment. Once half and quickly done, the leader put down his fire-lance and disarmed the hot blade after plunging it in water to keep the iron rigid. It always was a risky gamble to see if the blade would crack under the sudden difference in temperature, because when it did the part was as good as broken and had to be brought back to a smith to be recycled. A loss of time, of money, and the risk of being discovered as an owner of an illicit fire-lance.


    ¡°What in the Sky are you bringing here, John?¡± the voice resounded from behind, interrupting his little verification and forcing him to lay his eyes on the package.


    The thing was still wrapped in several layers of clothes, its nature completely indistinguishable from its appearance. It was lying on the ground, inanimate like the pile of junks they usually brought from the city to try turning it into a meagre profit. But this time, their delivery was quite unusual.


    First, it wasn¡¯t the usual large bags they barged with carrying on their back, but one long object which was too out of the ordinary, making it even more difficult to identify.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Just wait and see.¡± commented the leader, watching his two colleagues quickly unfolding the surprise for everyone to witness.


    The first thing the sentry caught sight of was a feminine face, which surprised him quite a lot. He didn¡¯t expect those three to arrive with a woman no matter her origin or the cause of her presence here, but chose to say nothing for now. It wasn¡¯t that rare to receive new products these days, even more with the astounding growth of society thanks to those steam-coughing chimneys scattered in the megalopolis. Someone had to make those machines roll, and the cheaper and more dedicated the crew was the better.


    However, the second thing he noticed made his eyes roll out of his sockets.


    When put out of context, what he saw could be described as a small mattress or a cushion, maybe even a scarf for the higher circles of nobility, but when put together with the visage of the woman and pushed by an unreasonable instinct, the word instantly gushed out of his aghast mouth.


    ¡°No way! It¡¯s a fuckin¡¯ harpy!¡±


    It was complicated to deduce from his expression if he was terrified, astonished or enchanted to see a captured monster here. The beast was still sleeping, or maybe in some sort of coma when looking at its inexpressive face which was actually a tad too red, probably because the poor thing was partially suffocating under all those layers without being even able to react or complain. Yet, he didn¡¯t mind her expression at all, as his eyes were quickly caught and glued to the shimmering feathers on her wings, sparkling under the fidgeting flame of the lantern.


    The deal here was most certainly real, and what more she was even alive when looking at her faintly rising breast, a fact which was both attractive and frightening for the man gulping in nervousness.


    ¡°Nice catch, right?¡± the leader tried to ask with a big smile on his face, certainly aware of the dangers such a creature posed to them, yet dismissing them as trivial for now.


    ¡°How the heck did you even manage to catch one?¡±


    ¡°Well, the thing is¡­¡± he started to raise his arms before answering nonchalantly, ¡°We didn¡¯t do anything.¡±


    Sceptic, the sentry frowned upon his answer, not sure if he should accept this excuse or throw them outside.


    ¡°That¡¯s true.¡± added one of the carrier, ¡°We found the harpy lying on the ground and bloodied.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± completed the third one, ¡°So we dumped everything we had on us and brought her here.¡±


    He was all smile when recounting their short adventure, but it all vanished when he reminisced himself they actually brought a monster here.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a good idea, was it?¡±


    While checking the harpy from afar, the sentry responded with uncertainty, at least glad the monster was still unconscious which saved him from driving crazy under the stress and the folly of this funny scene happening before him.


    Under normal circumstances, it was normal to finish the monster with a dagger piercing its throat and then leave the cadaver in the open. Unless it was a dragon or another beast with some materialistic value, there was no need to bring back the corpse in town. Maybe looting a few feathers from a harpy just to make some cash was still within the acceptable spectre of possibilities. But bringing one alive, here out of all the places in the neighbourhood? He scratched his head, unsure what to do with the good.


    ¡°It¡¯s been so long since we last dealt with a monster, I don¡¯t think there¡¯re still any buyer in town¡­¡±


    ¡°Maybe one of those nobles with that hobby would be interested?¡±


    ¡°As I said, it¡¯s been so long. The last wares were either fake or completely crippled and unsellable. Now you bring me a healthy one out of nowhere like it¡¯s normal. I don¡¯t know what to do with it, man.¡±


    During those days when hunting monsters was still the norm, adventurers always brought back what they called as ¡°materials¡± or ¡°items to sell¡± at the end of the day. Of course, this brimming market lured the eyes of people who coveted something more alluring than mere body parts, and the back alleys quickly seized this opportunity to racket as much money as possible. Traffic of monsters became a profitable occupation, until there were no more monsters to capture in the world.


    This global extinction perhaps brought peace to the world of humans, however, it also marked the end of the line to the merchants who relied on selling monsters. As the merchandises became scarcer, the prices skyrocketed in equal proportion, and it didn¡¯t take long before the stocks were emptied. This happened only a couple of decades ago, so maybe a few customers would still be looking for the last gems, but it was also probable that the majority would turn a blind eye in disbelief when suddenly told there was one more monster to buy.


    ¡°Did you say a word to the Broker in town?¡±


    ¡°Nah, we were already on our way here when we found her.¡±


    ¡°Then go and tell him, maybe he can help you sell her.¡±


    ¡°And what if he does?¡±


    The expected outcome was that even the Broker could not offer the harpy to a buyer nowadays. There were many reasons like the obsolescence of the trend of keeping a monster at home, however, the most expectable one was the lack of trust in this dead market as it¡¯s already been many years since anyone saw a monster this close to their home.


    ¡°Good scenario: we chop her and somehow sell at least the feathers and bones. Best scenario: we smuggle her inside the city and she¡¯ll live the rest of her life with a caring master.¡±


    The last line was both insincere and honest, betraying the deviant but easily guessable intention of anyone who would buy a harpy in such decent state.


    Probably because his words got conveyed to everyone here, they all glared at the sleeping lady, all sharing the same luxurious idea of sharing a bed with such a beauty.


    ¡°Too bad I can¡¯t have my way with her¡­¡±


    ¡°Unless you want her to wake up and eat you.¡±


    ¡°All of us, you mean.¡±


    ¡°If you want to do it, go inside and buy a woman instead of wasting my time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do. In the meantime, make sure to gently take care of her.¡±


    ¡°Screw off.¡±


    Leaving the room with short laughter, the trio left their package with the sentinel and went their way inside the underground town full of ruffians and thugs. Meanwhile, now alone with the monster, the sentry cautiously approached the unconscious harpy just to be sure she was really unconscious. No response, no twitching, she was most certainly locked in her dreams.


    He has never been the courageous nor the audacious kind of man, he was the type to aim for a leisure pace while avoiding the common fate of meeting one¡¯s death because of a wandering beast. It was a twist of destiny which sent him here to become the sentinel of this place full of illegals doings, but as the salary was good and the risks were low, he didn¡¯t mind much about his current situation.


    Now, this man lacking courage stared deeply at the harpy, encouraged by the curiosity of someone who met for the first time a phenomenon which he had always heard about but never saw with his own eyes. A monster was lying in front of him, healthy and breathing, completely harmless and peacefully resting.


    It was a sight to behold, a picture he would probably never forget in his entire lifetime.


    Pushed by this same curiosity, and also endorsed by his desire as a man, he sent his hand to unwrap the rest of the harpy¡¯s body, unveiling her waist, her hips then her legs. The hourglass shape was definitely enticing, and even he could understand those noble¡¯s wish to taste something exotic when looking at the strange melange of a woman and a bird.


    Alas, something caught his eyes which worried him. They said she was bloodied, but never explained how much or even what caused those injuries in the first place. Her body was covered in a mixture of blood and ink, something which wasn¡¯t easily noticeable without a source of light to make the texture shine to the eyes.


    Looking at the many bites and scratches on her skin, anyone could tell the blood was the harpy¡¯s. However, nothing seemed to explain the excessive amount of this black liquid covering her body. But what seemed scarier to him was the fact that the wounds were already closing despite the blood loss being obviously fresh from a really recent fight.

 Chapter 2 - Those who dwell in the dark [Part 2]

    The sun rose again, fiercely warmer than yesterday. A sign of an incoming wave of heat which would undoubtedly be rapidly cooled down before the end of the week. And as the landscape uncovered itself under the radiant light of the day, the underworld kept its intimacy and own story hidden from the surface.


    Without the sun¡¯s presence, anyone would fail once or twice trying to guess if it was morning or evening or even midnight, as solely trusting their internal clock quickly proved to be too much of a subjective guess to give a valid answer. Instead, residents of the underworld tended to frequently update their clock through their personal pocket watch, the mechanical wonder holding more value than a passer-by¡¯s guess on the matter.


    Thanks to this little gadget, John was made aware that he missed the morning call by a few hours. It was already almost time for a midday meal, which was way later than the time at which the usual part-time worker would wake up to. However, the reason John wasn¡¯t flustered by this situation was because it occurred way too often, and also because his line of work required some discretion one could only find under the discreet air of dusk. In short, it was too early for him to wake up now.


    He wondered if he slept badly because of the bed, from the sweet company still slumbering next to him or the smell of this rotten place, but quickly recovered his senses when the scene from yesterday resurfaced in his mind.


    ¡°Oh right. The harpy. Need to find the Broker¡­¡±


    Getting out of bed wasn¡¯t the biggest issue, but one always had to go through its inventory to check if anything has gone missing while he slept like a log. Despite the apparent safety of the inn, anyone here was plenty aware of the ineffectiveness of a lock, even more when one resided in this unlawful place.


    Fortunately, John wasn¡¯t weighted with many personal belongings on himself: the bare minimum to travel from one civilized place to another less educated, a sufficient and almost weightless purse freshly emptied after a midnight stroll in the underworld to buy a couple of wine and woman. It only took a few hours for John to drown in drunkenness and the satisfaction of a female¡¯s flesh, and also for his little amount of money to vanish. Left with only his eyes to cry, he made a mental note to withdraw a handful of coins before he would have to leave for the city.


    Wearing his jacket, he left the room without forgetting anything behind and went downstairs. There, he found the place not as crowded as yesterday, only a few small groups of ruffians drinking and eating their share, filling themselves with some fuel to properly commit some wrongdoings on the surface later. The air didn¡¯t seem too aggressive to John¡¯s nose, perhaps the waitress recently cleaned the floor, and that would explain the lack of disorder through the tables and chairs.


    Then, a door was suddenly opened in the back of the area, letting a pale frail man appear from the wooden frame. His stature seemed bizarre and his steps uncertain, his bald scalp was severely wrinkled from the many years he managed to survive. The long ages distorted his body to this pitiful state, drawing a tingle of compassion from the empathic onlookers, the ones unaware of the painful feeling tearing you from inside whenever this man stared at you with his fiery gaze. John, spotting the figure for afar, rapidly attempted to hide his presence from the senior.


    ¡°Well well¡­ If it isn¡¯t my favourite customer, John the Digger.¡±


    As the attempt seemingly failed, John answered the old man with a smile as sincere as feasible.


    ¡°Heyyyy~, Smatch! You look as lively as ever!¡±


    ¡°Keep your fuckin¡¯ flattery to yourself.¡±


    Despite its appearance, Smatch displayed more vitality than what anyone could have expected. Grabbing a chair for himself, he sat at one of the table with the dignity of a contrabandist then snapped his fingers, it was a habit he ingrained inside the innkeeper¡¯s beaten head to serve him a cup of water. Both the recipient and the drink were meagre, however the old man always preferred a cool and refreshing drink rather than those fancy alcohol which always dulled his focus in the end.


    Under normal circumstances, John would have left the place as quickly as possible just like the others who were actually running away from here, however escaping was not a choice when Smatch started a chat with you, for the old man obviously had something to say and he highly despised people who ignored him.


    ¡°Say me, John. How long have you been ¡®ere again?¡±


    Whatever the subject was, it was in John¡¯s best interest to answer truthfully. Searching through his memories spent in the underworld, he quickly summarized his time invested in his work here around a dozen of year maybe.


    ¡°Almost twelve years, or already twelve years?


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Well if you¡¯ve been ¡®ere for so long, you most certainly know one of the fundamental rule here.¡±


    After downing his drink in one gulp, Smatch delicately put the cup on the table like he was holding a fragile work of glass. Then, he looked at him. With fire in his eyes, he gazed directly into John¡¯s soul, piercing his skull with the malevolent strength of a thousand men.


    ¡°You all owe me this damned place. You, him, everyone here. You all can come and go and sell and buy your shits in this fuckin¡¯ place because I¡¯m here.


    Without me, you¡¯re nothing. Just a lump of dead meat squeaking around like idiots in the dark, until they come and gnaw your bones.


    You hear me John? You all owe me this fuckin¡¯ place! So pay me your fuckin¡¯ due, will ya?!¡±


    His back bending under the pressure, John helplessly covered his shivering body behind two frail arms, a meaningless barricade against the intense brazier emanating from the old man¡¯s aura. This alarming feeling threatened him to let go of his legs, useless pieces of his still breathing corpse that held no value in front of the overwhelming. This sensation wasn¡¯t new, yet it wasn¡¯t one you could easily get used to.


    Feeling the adrenaline rush in the heat of the moment was something, repeatedly facing death because of your job was merely a part of said job, something you have to get used to unless you want to eventually break. Feeling suspicious of the ruffians here was normal because anyone here could feel like knifing you out of envy. There was also the monsters outside, lurking in the darkness of the night and watching you from behind the trees. Those were recurrent occurrences that helped steel yourself to brave those dangerous days.


    But this, no matter how many times he was confronted to this, John always¡­ Failed -for a lack of a better term- to not crumble under those eyes. Those flames hidden inside the old man¡¯s gaze were charring his usual confidence, reminding John he was only human against the ex-foe of monsters. Forget the monsters, who would sanely trust this man while fully knowing his supernatural abilities?


    Many rumours orbited around Smatch, and most of them depicted him as a valiant, almost-suicidal fighter who eagerly battled on the frontlines whenever there was a monster who appeared asking for a beating. Alas, those compliments were only a way to describe him as a gruesome butcher depending on who he was siding with.


    What could a moth accomplish, stuck between the famished creatures of darkness and the only fire who deigned pay attention to them?


    Bask in its warmth, and pray it doesn¡¯t start feeding on you.


    ¡°S-sure, I do! Of course. I¡­ Luckily, I just got my hands on something which¡­ I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll sell it for a lot, trust me on this!¡±


    ¡°It better fuckin¡¯ do, because I won¡¯t ask again for my coins. Next time I see you, you either bring me my coins, or I¡¯ll push you myself down a demon¡¯s throat. Understood?¡±


    ¡°Yes! I¡­ I should go now. You know, to sell my things and¡­¡±


    ¡°You do that. Now scram.¡±


    Finally freed from the discussion, John ran away with his tail between his legs, trying to disappear from Smatch¡¯s sight as soon as possible.


    Once outside the inn, John was back in the underworld. He must have appeared dumb or something from the looks of the many passer-by, someone might even be tempted to come closer and steal from him after a little bit of pressure, however, no one dared to act rashly as they more or less understood the reason why his face was so pale. It wasn¡¯t because he drank too much, but because he honestly feared for his life. Connecting its strange behaviour to the guessable presence of the keeper of the underworld, they all went their way as if they saw nothing, while the one who did tried their best to erase this view from their head.


    But taking a short rest here was out of question for he was still too close to him to allow any sort of peace of mind. Sprinting as if his life depended on the next few hours, John moved toward the cave¡¯s entrance, which also served as an exit depending on the direction one came from. Once in front of the door, he quickly pulled on the handle and dashed inside, startling the sentry still attending his post.


    ¡°What the hell, dude?¡±


    Despite the distance he put between him and Smatch, John still felt this unpleasant grip on his stomach. The feeling of fear, the dread of facing something which cannot be defeated. His back against the closed door, he did his best to convince himself that he was safe, for now. As long as he could get a few coins he would be fine.


    Right, just a couple of coins, like the small stock he kept hidden in the city for example. Right, he could just go back, grab one small pouch and fill it with those dear coins before coming back and handing them to Smatch. That would definitely save him.


    Now kind of regretting his overreaction, John could finally breathe without any mental constraint put on his ribcage.


    ¡°I said ¡°what the hell¡±, so tell me what the hell happened.¡±


    Now that everything was fine, John took one more breath before letting go of the door and answered the sentry with a voice still half-clinging to his throat.


    ¡°I met Smatch. He was angry.¡±


    ¡°Angry for what? He knew about the harpy?¡±


    John shook his head.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think he knows. He was only asking about my debt.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s because I told my colleagues who certainly told him about your usual habit to forget those kind of things.¡±


    ¡°The fuck you spread rumours about me?¡±


    ¡°Just pay your fuckin¡¯ share before entering the underworld and everybody will be happy, dammit!¡±


    From John¡¯s perspective, he didn¡¯t remember being late in his payment. It may had happen once or twice that he forgot to give his share, a couple of coins to allow him access in the underworld in short. Perhaps he forgot again and that would explain his situation, an unlucky coincidence where the sentry badmouthing him from behind certainly did not play in his favour.


    Soundly grumbling, he went and grabbed a chair to sit at the table next to the man. It was a way to both appear calm and to catch his breath after the long run. Maybe out of compassion, he was served a cup of fresh water from the sentry. He grimaced while staring at the goblet, the recipient reminding him of the one Smatch was drinking from. Making the image vanish from his head, he drank a few gulps, silently thanking his mate without a word.


    ¡°So, what now? You¡¯re good to go?¡±


    ¡°Right, I need to find that Broker¡­ Any name or hint you can give me before I leave?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not complicated, you just have to¡­¡±

 Chapter 2 - Those who dwell in the dark [Part 3]

    There was a common naming convention shared through the populace, a standard way of labelling places, notions and also to exploit a low level of vocabulary into one universal method to easily recognize things that are either too sophisticated to explain or too grand to comprehend. For example, if the underworld represented the world ¡®under the world¡¯, then it was common sense to call the world ¡®above it¡¯ the overworld. Because it is ¡®over the world¡¯.


    The name was simple enough and largely welcomed thanks to its lack of complexity. Some could argue the world over the world would be the sky or the heaven, however, to the people living here, it was more acceptable to say a ¡®world¡¯ was a place to live in, therefore the underworld became the hidden part of humanity, the side nobody want to know nor acknowledge or deal with, while the overworld became the obvious part where cities where built and citizens lived in society.


    It was already midday, according to the Sun shining right above John¡¯s head. Perhaps a little bit more or less afternoon due to the changes with the current season. To stop the confusion from spreading, he rapidly checked the time on his pocket watch then nodded when he learnt he wasn¡¯t that wrong about the current hour.


    Usually, the traders were open all day. As long as the day was bright, they would welcome customers to their stands and sell as much as possible to make the biggest profit. Then, once dusk arrived and the flow of customers grew thin or almost extinguished, they would quickly switch their habit and resupply their stocks as soon as possible. They could also send a guy during the day to quickly buy a thing or two, however, it sort of became the norm for merchants to sell during the day and buy during the night. Perhaps some sort of compromise to avoid annoying the common folks with their mandatory tasks.


    John didn¡¯t really care here, all he needed was to find someone who would buy a monster. And for that, he first needed to go back to the city.


    Fortunately, the nearest agglomeration wasn¡¯t too far away. He would have appreciated the company of his former comrades from yesterday, alas the two fools were so busy he couldn¡¯t even find them in the popular bars they frequently visited together. It wasn¡¯t rare for them to be called somewhere else, yet warning John was the least they could have done before disappearing without leaving any trace or note behind.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s forget about them. I¡¯ll just sell the harpy and hand myself a few more coins from the trade¡­¡±


    Leisurely walking through the forest, the canopy filtered the light and sliced it in many rays, painting the barks and soil with many dots brighter than its entourage. The deep nuance of green permeated the background, the naturalness emerging from the collapsing sight of all those trees hugging each other gave birth to the illusion of a walled labyrinth despite the apparent cavity between each of those trees.


    John remembered how the place looked like under the veil of the night: a figureless path with no beginning nor end, surrounded by pillars of eternal stillness, soundless, yet absolutely pressuring, striking the fearless idiots with the gazes of the abyss. Shadows overwriting the black fog of obscurity, lurking and panting outside one¡¯s sight, hiding behind the comprehendible scope of one¡¯s perception, syphoning the wavering confidence of the lost.


    But now, all of this was gone, replaced by the elegant environment one would expect from the forest. Adorned with the birds¡¯ chirping, it was hard to imagine this place could turn into such a horrific nightmare once the sun set. Luckily, even the animals seemed to avoid this path, letting John go both unnoticed and unharmed, only a bit tired and dirty from the promenade.


    Further away, he started to spot the main road, carefully maintained despite its passage through the unhospitable forest, it was a public paved path accommodated for travellers but mostly caravans with their own mean of transport: namely the chariot with their pulling horses. As usual, the road was quite busy with all those merchants going one way or another, so many you could say the economy was steadily growing in the country which was a positive aspects brought from the lasting peace.


    After cooling down from his stroll in the forest, John grabbed the first cart his hands landed on, flipped a coin to the driver then made himself comfortable next to the stranger pulling the reins. They both spent the rest of the travel minding their own business, probably aware of each other¡¯s circumstances, sharing the sacred vow of not starting a conversation and learning more about the other person¡¯s backstory and stuff. There were many reasons to maintain the silence atmosphere, however, there were really only two main points to the problem: first, they both didn¡¯t really care about each other, and second, if they did care, it would only bring trouble to their already clumsy and messy routine.


    As nobody enjoyed receiving more trouble than they already have on their hands, John and the driver chose to keep their mouth shut.


    A while later, the road was about to leave the forest and the city¡¯s gates were finally in sight, broadly open to welcome incomers and let out travellers. The entrance only cost a few little coins, John had a lot of those to share with the guardsmen just in case but, thanks to a small strike of luck he easily slipped inside the city thanks to his driver.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    After a short walk through the crowded street of the town, they both bid a silent farewell and went their own way. They¡¯ll probably never see each other in their lifetime, so better just hurry and do your things.


    ¡°Now, as for the Broker¡­¡±


    If trading monsters was a well-known thing in the past, now people only referred to it as an old attraction or some sort of publicity they kind of forgot to dispose of in their spare time. In other words, finding someone who still had the tools and the staff to manage such kind of goods was harder than trying to explain the laws and concept of magic to a toddler; not like he himself knew how this shit works anyway.


    For now, John went for the simplest destination he had in mind: the black market. Another side of the underworld, one of the tips which still brazenly interact with the overworld and help circulate bills and money in exchange of luxurious but slightly illegals items, sometimes the client would even come to purchase some ¡°assistants¡± to help with some underhanded strategy.


    To get there he¡¯ll had to go through the most repugnant back alleys, meet a few despicable persons and utter the password in front of an unsuspicious wooden door¡­ Or not. Actually, he directly walked inside one of the shop of the bigger merchants in town.


    ¡°Greetings customer. How may I help you?¡±


    Being welcomed by the jolly lady at the counter, John harmoniously smiled at her.


    ¡°I¡¯m here for a sale. Can I see your manager?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, the manager is busy, but I can send him a word if you wish for a meeting today.¡±


    An expected answer, therefore John didn¡¯t back down, instead he got closer to the girl and whispered something she will definitely not ignore.


    ¡°Sure thing. Tell him I have something we don¡¯t sell anymore.¡±


    Albeit somewhat cryptic, the intention was clearly conveyed. Only a fool wouldn¡¯t understand what he implied with his words, a fool or someone unaffiliated to the underworld¡¯s business. The lady¡¯s smile told him he won¡¯t have to look for another place. She also got closer and inquired in a discreet way to John.


    ¡°Just one more word, sir.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t asking for some sort of polite key word, she was asking about the nature of the item John desired to sell here. Wondering if the answer would surprise her, John smiled even more deviously than before.


    ¡°Harpy.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Very well, I will tell the manager immediately.¡±


    A short silence hung between both of them at the mention of the monster¡¯s name before she disappeared behind a tightly shut door, leaving John by himself and allowing him some alone time to think ahead. Which arguments will he use with the manager to appeal to him and obtain a better price? Now that he was thinking about it¡­ He quickly sniffed his shoulder just to check something.


    He smelled nothing. It was a bad sign.


    ¡°I probably should¡¯ve taken a shower before coming here¡­¡±


    Too late for remorse, the lady already returned and asked him to follow her. Well, in the end he came to make money, not to claim another conquest for tonight. With that mindset, John followed the girl through the corridors while glancing at the many offices they crossed, each seated with a clerk busy writing numbers and checking if the value sums up. As all those tasks made his head easily confused with complicated arithmetic, he solely focused on the path ahead. However, because he had nothing better to keep his mind busy, his eyes wandered on the behind of the woman he was following. Despite the thick clothes, he more-or-less got a grasp on her silhouette, then his imagination did the rest of the work.


    ¡°Nice hips, I like them¡­ But yesterday¡¯s girl was more chubby and soft and busty like¡­ Yeah, like the harpy.¡±


    Thinking about another girl again, this time his mind reminded him of the harpy¡¯s delicious shape. And reminiscing those feathers¡­ One could only guess the feeling of embracing such beauty while being engulfed inside those smooth sheets. ¡°Happiness¡± would be one word to describe it, however, even he believed such sensation couldn¡¯t be summed up with only one word. Perhaps he should¡¯ve at the very least taken a bite before storing her away¡­


    Again, too late for remorse, for the lady finally halted their walk in front of another door. On the frame was nailed down a sign with a name, unfortunately John wasn¡¯t literate enough to decipher the letters written there.


    ¡°The manager is inside. Please wait a moment here, then come in after we tell you to.¡±


    ¡°Protocols, protocols¡­¡± John wanted to retort, but abstained in order to not lose any points before the negotiation even started. It didn¡¯t take too long before a voice resounding behind the door gave him permission to enter the room. Taking in a short breath, John tried his best to relax himself before pulling the doorknob.


    There, he noticed two person waiting inside. The first was the lady he was previously ogling, sitting not too far away with a pen and a book to scribe down the content of the meeting, while the second was certainly the one she called the manager. He appeared as a wealthy man, as his body size could not lie about the amount of dinner he stuffed inside his stomach every day to achieve this level of¡­ Diameter? Whatever his daily life was, John still had to make a deal with him.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you. My name is John, and I presume you are the ¡®Broker¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Ah! Who¡¯s the idiot who spread the idea that the Broker was a literal name?¡±


    Slightly confused, John answered cautiously.


    ¡°Ehm¡­ Some people?¡±


    ¡°May the Goddess damn them, for they are dumb enough to keep conceiving such wobbly fairy tales!¡±


    ¡°¡­ May I assume that¡¯s not your name?¡±


    ¡°Are you from the underworld, yes or no?¡±


    Answering a question with a question may sound rude, but here John wasn¡¯t in any sort of advantage to make a fuss about it. Beside, directly asking if someone was part of the underworld was both a bit too frank and maybe a tad idiotic if it weren¡¯t in such a close and secure environment. Not sure what to think of it, John simply responded with an affirmation.


    ¡°Well¡­ Yes?¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t be stupid and believe in those stupid rumours! The Broker is just a codename to address all those who make trades between the underworld and the overworld. Decent people don¡¯t use nicknames nowadays, it¡¯s what muscle-heads do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ Keep that in mind, sir¡­¡±


    ¡°For you, it¡¯s just ¡®sir¡¯. Well then, I¡¯ve heard you¡¯ve got your hands on some peculiar package, is that right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, sir.¡±


    John couldn¡¯t help but rub his hands in his head.

 Chapter 2 - Those who dwell in the dark [Part 4]

    ¡°Hurry up, guys! And don¡¯t trip on the roots.¡±


    Once more, night fell on the world, bereaving the residents of the overworld their beloved, shining and warm sun. Cloaked in the dark, John, two of his accomplices and three more helpers armed with fire-lance traversed the forest with their heavy luggage, carrying all the way to the city the fully wrapped body of the harpy.


    After a long hour of negotiating with sir the Broker, John finally managed to make a deal. It was the truth that only a few merchants still possessed all the necessary utensils and skills to properly take care of living monsters, however, it also meant that there was still a couple of them who still cleared all the mandatory conditions. Be it through legal ways or not, all that mattered to John was the fact they could sell the harpy to someone and go back home with a hefty purse full of golds, the rest was merely fillers he didn¡¯t care about.


    Accompanied with three man-at-arms, they were tasked by the buyer to bring the harpy to the merchant¡¯s storehouse one way or another. John himself still wasn¡¯t certain which way they¡¯ll go, and that was probably why the three servants were sent to help him, to act both as guards and as guides. In short, all his work amounted to was to lift the harpy¡¯s body from point A to point B while avoiding lawful witnesses or a gruesome end in the wood.


    ¡°Not too shabby of a work, for once.¡±


    ¡°You mean, compared to playing bandits on the road or thief in town? It sure is.¡±


    While the duo suddenly began to reminisce on their previous jobs, John joining in just to add the spicy comments expected from a third party and merry-talking like some happy-go-lucky life¡¯s winner, one of the escort brandished his weapon at them with a menacing glow in his eyes.


    The fire-lance, a weapon intrinsically designed to defeat beasts of unparalleled strength and wage war against the endless tides of darkness, was now pointed right in the face of John¡¯s startled allure.


    ¡°Shut. The hell. Up.¡±


    A simple threat, and also a simple reminder of their current predicament: almost lost in the woods, surrounded by the obscurity of the night, and all its unseen jaws.


    ¡°It¡¯s the middle of the night, and because of you I can¡¯t listen to the creatures¡¯ footsteps. So will you please shut up and keep quiet until we reach the city¡¯s walls?¡±


    ¡°¡­R-Right, my bad.¡± Apologized John, his head hidden between his shoulders.


    Grumbling as a sign of acknowledgement, the man wielding the fire-lance returned to his post then everyone continued the journey without uttering another word. John thought, unless there was an invasion of those nocturnal abomination, strolling at night with three fire-lancers was still considered more safe than staying one night in one of the underworld¡¯s inn. Again, there was no telling what awaited them behind the cover of the darkness, gifting another point to the guard who sided with the argument ¡°let¡¯s-not-bait-them-with-our-chit-chats¡±.


    The path seemed longer than usual, but maybe this was due to the lack of visibility as daytime provided people of the overworld with a vaster line of sight. Not seeing anything was equivalent to not knowing when to expect it, and it held true even for immovable towns. However, a quarter of an hour later, many arranged lights could be seen in the distance. Those were from the braziers of the watchtowers, marking the end of the first step of their travel.


    ¡°Alright, halt.¡± whispered the leading escort, ¡°Now that we¡¯re in the town¡¯s sight, we must turn off our fire-lance otherwise they¡¯ll spot us from afar.¡±


    ¡°But isn¡¯t that dangerous? I mean, we¡¯re still in the forest and all¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯ll change our position. One of us will go ahead with his fire-lance to acts as a vanguard; with his weapon still hot the creatures should think twice before attacking us. Meanwhile, we¡¯ll follow a few steps behind to stay hidden from the sentinels.


    We¡¯ll walk like this towards the wall, then we¡¯ll wait for the vanguard to give us the signal that he found the secret pathway.¡±


    ¡°Sure, what can possibly go wrong?¡±


    ¡°Listen here. It¡¯s already risky enough to try and sell a monster on the black market, especially when the potential client is a big shot. You can end up rotting in jail for this kind of things, but if you¡¯d rather feed the creatures of the night, then be my guest¡­¡±


    The following silence was enough of an answer to his retort.


    ¡°Fine, then let¡¯s get going.¡±


    With those words, the escort planted the hot blade of the fire-lance in the dirt, quickly imitated by his colleague, leaving the third one as the nominated vanguard in the team. The weapon made no sound while it was cooling down under the earth, a quick and dirty trick to turn off the fire-lance, while the last heated blade was still emitting its warm glow.


    The group bid farewell ¨Chalf-jokingly- to the vanguard, the man keeping its cool despite being fully aware of the risks. However, what kind of profitable job didn¡¯t come with its share of risks?


    After distancing himself from everyone, it only took a few steps for his silhouette to merge with the surrounding darkness of the forest. His footsteps could barely be heard, but, another noise, more deep than any sound a boot could make, was beating in everyone¡¯s ear like a flabby, deafening drum. Choked by the ambient anxiety, any sort of thought was muffled in their mind, pictures and words were either replaced by a blank state to stay focused on the present, or twisted after boiling together the curtains of the night with the old memories from horrific fairy tales.


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    A couple of minutes later, they noticed the vanguard giving them a sign. It was time to move.


    ¡°Seems safe enough.¡±


    With no light to show them the path nor their own hands, John and his colleagues had to find again a grasp on the luggage and walk with lots of precaution to avoid kicking a root or worse. Their only beacon was the vanguard standing over there, approximately a hundred of meters away from their position.


    With no light to show them the way nor their shaky legs, they had to slowly move forward with as much precaution as possible to avoid dumbly falling down because of a slippery ground or something worse. Adding to that the handicap of lifting the heavy body of the harpy made this trip even more arduous than John anticipated.


    Slowly but surely, their destination was growing closer to their eyes, at this rate they would probably not-


    *snap*


    ¡­


    Clich¨¦, but somebody stepped on a branch, creaking under the person¡¯s weight in a dreadful crack. Hearing this, the group suddenly stopped in unison, commonly trying to figure out what to do next.


    John gulped nervously.


    The sound came from a few meters away on his right, not in the bodyguards¡¯ current position.


    His body refused to move. Until¡­


    ¡°Guh!¡±


    Something hit the forefront escort, then he disappeared from everyone¡¯s sight in a snap.


    He didn¡¯t even have time to shoot something.


    However, the surrealist scene was the trigger to the group¡¯s panic.


    ¡°CREATURE!!!¡±


    ¡°RUN RUN RUN!!!¡±


    With a remarkable energy squeezed with the grip of terror, the group dashed towards the town¡¯s ramparts, trying to reach its safety under the cover of the watchtowers. Stealth be damned, safety was their priority right now. This, and gold too, as John and his colleagues were somehow still carrying along the luggage. Maybe they forgot to let it go, or maybe their hands were too tightened due to their emotion.


    ¡°Over there, quick!¡±


    Noticing the commotion from afar, the idling vanguard seemingly decided to open up the entrance to the secret pathway, perhaps hoping to close it just after the group barged inside, or maybe to save his own ass. Anyway, he was nowhere to be seen right now, but the entrance was wide open.


    Not letting this chance slip out of their hands, the group hurried towards their goal despite its location not being completely covered by the watchmen¡¯s line of sight and their ringing bells of alarm, and thus not really protectable with their fire arrows to repel the abominations born from darkness.


    It was there, just a few more steps¡­ Alas, one of the carrier got snapped up before vanishing in the night without a sound. The weight was all of a sudden too much for John and his remaining friend, and they both fell down with the luggage.


    In some sort of last attempt, John crawled on his back to face the enemy of mankind.


    The thing was growling behind the cover of the forest¡¯s shadow, making clacking noises each time its fangs pierced the soil, while its charcoal carapace outlined the grotesque shape of an insectoid otherness. Clad on its spiky back like an urchin, the body of two adults were displayed, hooked like flesh meant to dry.


    Its jaw was unnatural, full of pointed teeth and covered in a thick mucus of saliva, drooling at the smell of fresh flesh and blood. Similar to a spider, its legs sprawled in many directions, hairy, creepy, and deadly.


    Looking at the nightmare given form in front of him, John recalled an old saying about those things. We called beasts living the day ¡°monsters¡± because their appearance was at the very least recognizable. There was a meaning to label those horrors spawning from darkness as ¡°creatures¡±, for their appearance defied the sanity of their witnesses. Such an uncommon, distorted being could not be recognized as part of this world.


    This was the end.


    His head turned deaf.


    ¡­ Because he failed to hear the warcry from the luggage.


    With an inhumane violence, the harpy torn apart the sheet suffocating her, throwing away her large wings in an unpredicted manner to free herself. Perhaps confused by the situation, the harpy kept shrieking in a hurtful way while flapping its wings and looking around her.


    John had to cover his ears to avoid his drums from being damaged due to the harpy¡¯s shrill tone, however, the scene in front of him wasn¡¯t over yet.


    Still shrieking, the harpy finally noticed the presence of the nocturnal dweller, focusing all of her vocal cords towards it to keep it stunned from the soundwaves until it couldn¡¯t bear with it any longer and slashed at the harpy with his leg.


    Swiftly parrying the attack with her talon, she quickly jumped over the canopy before swooping down on the creature. It should have been fatal, yet it kept resisting despite the claws crushing its shell.


    It tried to shake its body to try and pierce its assailant with his spikes, only achieving a few grazes and pokes without dealing damage.


    Finally, after a powerful swipe, the creature managed to push back the harpy, shooting and displaying its hideous dentition to intimidate its opponent.


    But it was futile.


    In a single instant, a wave of flames engulfed the creature, its cries echoing in the night under the heat of the unexpected flames coming from above.


    John felt his eyebrows burning because of the sudden rise in temperature, fearing for his life as he was imagining himself turning into a charred coil. The bells of the watchtowers kept ringing in his ears. The fire spread through the forest.


    Darkness was driven away, but the creature remained. Wailing like a single black dot forgotten behind, it rolled on the ground in a desperate attempt to extinguish the flames eating its body. His fur turned into ember, and parts of its shell was coloured in a glowing red.


    In its frenzy, it damaged many trees, felling them on the spot like mere candlesticks. As it failed to put out the fire, the creature finally decided to retreat. Dizzily making its way far away from here, its escape was cut short by the extreme force the harpy inflicted him, splitting its body in half by the sheer amount of strength she exerted.


    Witnessing the mythological battle, John kept silently watching the harpy¡¯s dazzling figure surrounded the burning trees, a painting he will never forget in his entire life.


    He simply stood there on the ground, observing the monster who unleashed its fury on the creature.


    ¡°Monster, down there!¡±


    The voice came from above him. Looking at the top of the fortification, he discerned many figures looking at the scene, probably the watchmen trying to probe and assert the situation.


    However, their uncalled apparition stirred up the harpy.


    As if she could recognize the attention she gathered here, her tension rose up in a spike, and only now she found herself in a pickle. Surrounded by fire, being aimed at by a dozen of archers with fire arrows, and still exhausted for many reasons.


    Its head was looking everywhere, a desperate attempt to look for an exit, then she suddenly focused on a point behind John. Curious what made the harpy so intrigued, he glanced at what stood at his back.


    The opened entrance, the secret pathway meant to come inside the city while avoiding all the guards. And rushing inside without a care in the world was his colleague, squeaking like a filthy and scared rat.


    John shouted at him to run away, but it was already too late.


    The harpy sprinted towards the safety of the underground, passing by John who couldn¡¯t comprehend what happened just now.


    ¡°NO! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!¡±


    The man plead the monster to leave him alone, however, nobody here could stop the harpy¡¯s herculean prowess. In a flash, she grabbed her victim and plunged in the underworld with her new prey.

 Chapter 2 - Those who dwell in the dark [Epilogue]

    The overworld was supposed to represent the clean part, the proper figure and the expected appearance of the landscape, its fragrance and its inhabitants. In other words: the overworld was merely the idealized representation of the world where humanity dreamt of colonizing and making it its own.


    As for everything else that wasn¡¯t beautiful, noble or correct, it was all dumped in the underworld like some undesired dust we throw under the carpet, hoping it¡¯ll never bother us again.


    But everytime, like some sort of chemicals we¡¯re all aware of yet still believe we can simply ignore and it¡¯ll disappear like that, it does come back at us.


    Either in the form of assassin¡¯s guilds or the infamous name of the Broker, the ugly face of humanity keep sprouting back at the surface like weed and parasites, corrupting its foundation and altering the very notions of what seems normal in today¡¯s society.


    What seems normal in society is the presence of frauds and legal anomalies, never ridden of for their presence actually brought wealth to the city, just like some sort of fertilizer. Certainly toxic, yet fairly profitable.


    Today, this lax behaviour was the cause of the current uproar. Today, the acceptance of those weeds brought a catastrophe.


    Breathing heavily, the man was desperately running away from this place. Behind him, he could still hear the cries of the less fortunate who couldn¡¯t escape faster. Well, fortunate enough to live another day, that is.


    He still couldn¡¯t believe it, for such a thing to happen in the underworld.


    Sure, everyday had its own share of problems, but it never crossed his mind that a monster could pop from the entrance and ravage everything in its path.


    Fire-lances were useless against that thing, not even the traps prepared in case of a creature attempting to invade could stop it.


    Nobody managed to interrupt its rampage, not even this useless ex-foe of monsters.


    Everything seemed futile here. So, being the smart man he was, he decided to just buzz off from here.


    Easier said than done, there was actually a long way separating the underworld from the overworld, but once he was out of here he could just lock the door behind him and forget about everything.


    Sucking it up, he pressed forward with his torch in hand, alas his endurance couldn¡¯t allow him to run as fast as he did before.


    He took a look behind him to check just how far away he was from the uproar. Far enough to not see anything more, and also far enough to not hear anything anymore.


    Did¡­ Did someone actually slew the monster? Or maybe¡­


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    Not going to place any bet, he continued on his journey to the surface. Perhaps he¡¯ll even be able to share the tale with some random listeners once he hit the tavern in the next district.


    They¡¯ll probably question him about many things, however, anything was better than dying here because of a bloodthirsty monster.


    A loud clang reverberated behind, as if a heavy piece of metal was brutally thrown on the ground.


    ¡°Was it the beast?¡± he had the time to think before being pinned against the cobblestones, letting go of the torch.


    The shock left him speechless, but feeling his body being clawed made him hurl in agony.


    His vision was shaky due to the pain, yet his eyes managed to get a blurry picture of his assailant.


    Human, feathers and talons, it was undoubtedly the harpy who destroyed the base he left behind.


    Whimpering in fear, the man tried to grab the harpy¡¯s leg, but failed to possess the strength to repel her.


    To cease his irritating resistance, the harpy pressed on the man¡¯s torso, torturing her victim and making him endure a severe pain.


    It is said that, with sufficient experience, one can recognize a specific member of a specie. For example, a person familiar with cats could easily identify his own pet among a pack. In spite of the fur being the same colour and shape, there was still a little something to make the specimen unique among its congenerates.


    However, to Philad¡¯s wrathful gaze, all humans looked the same.


    Disgusting, selfish, sinful beings roaming a world they thought they conquered, plundering and massacring as they see fit in order to fulfil this so called world peace.


    Everytime her eyes met a human, the memories resurfaced. After some time, she managed to cool down her emotions to some extent, to a sufficient level to seduce one of them and try to create an offspring.


    But here¡­ Here, she met only sinners, murderers and liars.


    Everytime, the same memories resurfaced; one of a village razed to the ground, one of a neighbour crying for his life, one of...


    ¡°Please! Don¡¯t kill me!¡±


    ¡­ The human dared to.


    However, the phrase was familiar to Philad. She¡¯d already heard it, during the attack. Many times. Too many.


    And everytime her kin begged for their life, the answer was always the same.


    ¡°No mercy¡­


    For¡­


    Monsters¡­¡±


    Its head was crushed under her feet, silencing at last the noisy wailing of this pitiful being.


    Now that the deed was done, the humans living in this place under the surface slaughtered, Philad could focus on the oddity that picked her interest.


    Down here, for some reasons that eluded her, a familiar smell lingered in the air.


    She cautiously moved forward, certain of the absence of any survivors on her way, until her eyes were set on a heavy-looking door frame. Unfortunately unable to pivot the handle, she simply smashed her way out in a loud bang. It¡¯ll probably attract some undesired attention.


    But the ceiling appeared quite high from here, maybe she could fly up there and hide for the time being? It was spacious enough for her to deploy her wings, and despite the ramshackle the upper area could easily serve as a decent hideout once she gets used to the bats and the big bells.


    Philad slipped through the window and stepped on the steep roof of the tower to better observe her new surroundings. From the top of the old building, she could count the stars as if they were within her grasp. But unlike the constellations shining above the world, the lights originated from the ground in an orderly yet unnatural fashion.


    Standing atop metallic poles, they brightly glowed, illuminating the stone road where she discerned many silhouettes walking without a concern about the night. Another privilege humans crafted for themselves.


    Dismissing the current situation, Philad inhaled the air to try and catch the previously familiar smell.


    It was there, somewhere in that direction. This colloquial feeling, drenching her soul with nostalgia and worry.


    Somewhere in that human castle, the smell of her kin resided.

 Chapter 3 - The Fire in Her Eyes [Prologue]

    The eternal clash against the forces of light and darkness, a tale rewritten a thousand times to accommodate the story to the local standards or the legends of a timeline. And despite all its versions the plot line was still the same, somehow following the same pattern due to a special influence.


    In the end, the light always overcome the darkness no matter the difference in power.


    However, this truth didn¡¯t always stand. Sometimes, fate would make this seemingly unshakable statement crumble on its foundations, leading the story toward an end we neither expected nor wished for.


    Sometimes, the heroes cannot win. Sometimes, they aren¡¯t heroes at all.


    Some share with others that light will always prevail, while another mindset would flaunt that darkness exists because the light shines. Nobody would waste their time minding the ethics and morals while they were thinking about such lines, fixating their view on the old and solid philosophy of the two-sided coin to easily explain a confrontation too ancient to be explained.


    Yet, the truth worked in another way: darkness doesn¡¯t need light to exist, nor light requires the presence of darkness to be bright. A world covered in obscurity can exist, and the same could be said about a world with no dim place.


    But, as both can exist with the presence of the other, they also cannot cohabit at all. The light cannot be sombre, and darkness cannot illuminate anything. Instead, a sort of correlation is born at the place they meet, creating an abomination in the name of equilibrium to sustain a battleground in the form of a condition desired by neither side.


    A shadow, too bright to be part of darkness, too shallow to be part of light.


    The mixture ends up wasted, unusable and hated by both, thrown into the fires which keep igniting the sparks of this eternal rivalry. A duel taking the aspect of dread and irritation inside the heart of their children, a never-ending war between the forces of light and darkness.


    The lesson can go on, running on this skinny and improper thread for who knows how many centuries before people get bored of this swinging duality.


    They do and do, accepting this occurrence like a naturel phenomenon which cannot be denied while sticking to their principles and new-born teachings to try and elevate themselves to a so-called higher degree of consciousness.


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    In the end, the phenomenon always occurs, and people can only watch it unfold before their shackled, powerless self.


    The war began.


    Mortal shells on one side, clamouring with rage and courage as they presented their weapons of steel and fire to the Day goddess before receiving the charge from the unyielding foe; beasts and folks of unimaginable origins and misconstructed shapes.


    Rain poured on their sorry body, dismantled cadavers trampled upon by the survivors who stood to fight with the will to see the finale act. Shields clashed against teeth and claws, but the fire-lance was always true to its lethality and managed to slay the incomprehensible creature with devious and hungry eyes.


    The men roared against the thing which came from the other side, sorcerers poured cataclysmic spells on the titans of darkness as they threatened to swallow the field inside their depthless silhouette.


    And as the day grew old while the night turned shabby, this battle decisively marked history.


    Darkness lost its hold, and half of the world now resided in the hands of the light. The stalemate persisted through the following years, until it became decades, a millennia before finally taking its final form: the present reality.


    Nowadays, the day cycles are explained through the myth of the ancient war: the light running after the decaying darkness, and darkness consuming the unguarded light. Many seasons passed, and this truth remained despite its confusing wording. A state of the world as everybody knew it, natural, maybe obvious, but clear to this world¡¯s residents.


    In the eyes of human civilisation, the war was over. But peace left them with a sour aftertaste like an incomplete achievement, a victory which felt unsatisfactory, empty of reason or purpose. So they tried and rose again, succeeding in tasks that were given by no one, a selfish assignment in order to enjoy a self-proclaimed fulfilment.


    Nowadays, despite the myth still holding some truth, its meaning was forsaken and its origin buried under the dust of time. However, and fortunately, there were still two people keeping this memory intact for they were both the eternal rivals, this so-called two-faced coin.


    In the struggle between the light and the darkness, there can be only one standing atop in the end. It could either be the nightmares born from ignorance, blindness and fear, or the blazing spectrum of verity, irrationality, and apathy.


    But for some reasons, a dread persisted through the ages, clawing the paranoids¡¯ mind with its flawed, existential crisis.


    What if there was no end to this perpetual intrigue? And worst case scenario, what would happen if one side actually won the war?


    If the consequences to losing to the darkness were already limpidly explained, the failure throwing mortals into either an eternity of suffering or an immediate and absolute closure to their story, then what about the light?


    And to paint an even darker future: what were the conditions to join this war on the light¡¯s side? What were the promised rewards once this was all over, and the price they had to pay to enjoy its protection to this day?

 Chapter 3 - The Fire in Her Eyes [Part 1]

    According to the many grimoires on the subject of alchemy, gold was described as the purest and noblest of all known and yet-to-discover metals, while silver was placed second on this subjective ranking. As such, it wasn¡¯t rare ¨Cto avoid stating how evident it became- that most historical figures wore golden threads on their habit, a sign to showcase their wealth, power, and influence. In summary, their importance during their lifetime.


    Notable heroes were adorned with a shoulder-cloth or short capes embroidered with thin yellow and glinting patterns, each symbolising their loyalty, affiliation or the specific mark from a fantastical victory. Kings were crowned with wondrous crafts, each of these symbols of sovereignty were unique in the world, a selfish attempt from the founders to distinguish themselves from one another, but also an unforeseen yet welcomed tradition by the historians to act as easily-matchable hint during their investigations in the past of their kingdom.


    Of course, aristocratic folk also took a part in this golden-made hierarchy, however, they reduced it to only a game of balance between wearing sufficient gold to prove one¡¯s apparent worth and to actually not outmatch one¡¯s suzerain¡¯s weight.


    Thankfully, gold was a resource precious enough to not be wasted on meaningless adornment; anyone foolish enough to abuse it would either be scorned by its entourage or even punished for its irresponsible behaviour.


    Putting aside the aesthetic value of gold, its usage was quickly extended as exchangeable coins to trade expansive items between influential merchants and members of the high nobility. As for the common populace, gold was too good for them and a fake material which looked very much authentic was instead spread between civilians and serfs, a way to invite them as another lower but larger circle of customers to the market.


    In a short amount of time, fake gold became more widespread than true gold, raising even further its economic value and its place in society¡¯s standings and ethics.


    But being more widespread obviously meant landing on more hands. Some men tried to cheat their way by wearing armour with golden patterns, faking their feats behind a fa?ade to deceive their potential employer.


    Unfortunately for them, another widespread and extremely effective method was shared between said employers to prevent counterfeit heroes to profit from their indecent lie.


    True gold was sensible to the fire of the Day Goddess, emitting a faint glow and slightly turning redder under the heat of a flame, while fake gold would merely turn warmer over time.


    The chemical trick may have been the initial trigger to the idea of wearing gold while confronting the forces of darkness, the divine aura surrounding the leading warriors and the sight of them charging towards the black, depthless pits of jaws, teeth and crooked eyes, their immense stature acting as beacons of hope under the gazes of humanity.


    Champions of the light, armed with the metal and the fire of their goddess, they stood brave in the face of adversary and the hopelessness born from darkness. Nowadays, those heroic figures were no more; they either disappeared for unknown reasons, were sadly and cowardly killed behind the curtains or were simply gone, done by the amount of years they spent on this world.


    ¡­


    ¡°And? Is that all there is to it?¡±


    Facing not the forces of darkness, but a huge pile of scrolls and old books, a young man was currently looking for more clues in the middle of all this mess. The desk was a sorry mess while many copies were carelessly left open, the stack of knowledge kept gaining more heights as a couple of assistants went back and forth from the grand shelves of the library to bring more records of the old ages.


    Scratching his head, the clerk tried to remember if he found anything else useful in his search or his notes. Alas, those charged to keep the knowledge intact in the past were either sophisticated poets or just really liked to tell stories about golden knights and epic epopees.


    ¡°Forgive us, we still need more time to find anything related to what you are seeking.¡±


    On the other side of the mess stood a slightly older man, however, his presence alone brought both the serenity found in trustworthy personas and the anxiety from dealing with the ones standing above you. He felt impatient for his inquiry already lasted a few days with no relevant answers, yet couldn¡¯t help but admire his retainers¡¯ determination when looking at all the books they had withdrawn from their place.


    His shape wasn¡¯t large, yet one could feel a dominant aura emanating from him, a feeling rubbing against your hair which whispered to your ears that this person wasn¡¯t merely important: he was truthfully crucial to the kingdom, for he was the prince who would inherit the throne.


    Unlike his father, he had no crown to display his undisputed authority, instead he was covered with an ample cape, endorsing the emblem of royalty on his back and shoulders.


    ¡°How come we have yet to find any records? Are we not talking about one of the legacy of our predecessors?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Highness, but you must understand those topics were usually¡­ Romanticized. During the old times of war, even safely keeping knowledge in written form required a lengthy elaboration and a steep price, and once all was over then only could records be stored without worry.¡±


    ¡°Then all of those are actually tales with no backing? Poems with no mystery or hidden meaning?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and no. I am afraid to admit, those are indeed stories from ancient times. However, none of them are hiding anything. They are simply what they were made of: stories, to prevent us from forgetting.¡±


    ¡°And yet, we cannot find even one metaphorical wording about it?¡±


    ¡°Forgive us, Your Highness. We are doing all we can to retrieve this knowledge from the Librarium.¡±


    Considering pushing even further would prove to be fruitless, the prince gave them a word of encouragement before exiting the quiet environment, leaving the scholars to their duty with a short reminder that he would come back at a later date to check on their result. The clues he was looking for was that important for him to dispatch a small squad of bookworms and made them focus entirely on this specific searching.


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    After going through the door opened by his servants, the prince was escorted back to his quarters with the aid of a duo of loyal knights, each of them adorned not with the shining and glorious armour, but the heavy equipment of steel and longswords. The design appeared quite cumbersome when you took in account the existence of beasts capable of demolishing houses in one swoop, and it was the truth that the equipment wasn¡¯t adequate to fight against monsters or creatures which could easily overpower you.


    However, this war was already over. Humanity has won, and now the enemy has changed.


    ¡°How was it, Your Highness?¡± asked one of his escort, the voice belonging to a middle-aged man.


    The prince shook his head in denial, ¡°They still haven¡¯t found anything, despite all the records they gathered so far¡­¡±


    ¡°Perhaps they need more time?¡±


    ¡°Of course they need more time¡±, retorted the royalty with a pinch of irritation, ¡°And it will most probably take years before they provide me an inch of what I¡¯m looking for.¡±


    He rubbed his eyes, a habit he once adopted to help dissipate the stress in a brief period. Then, he stood by the bow window to contemplate the districts of the capitol, losing himself in his preoccupying thoughts. His eyes wandered towards the residential and mercantile areas who were brimming with life, potential and wealth with the ulterior thoughts, motives and worries of an upcoming suzerain.


    Under this blue sky, he was born a ruler. In front of the whole population, he was acclaimed as the heir of the throne. His blood carried the feats and the duties of his predecessors, the heavy History of humankind alongside their victories, their defeats, their rise and their fall. Standing next to the peak of humanity¡¯s greatest monarchy, one of the only nation with the capability to fight the darkness with the help of the goddess¡¯s blessing and the fire-lances. As the sole king¡¯s son, his name resounded across the country since the day of his birth.


    Louis Rubimic Chartelle Primtus the heir prince, alas born with one less mark than his father.


    ¡°The blessing of the Day Goddess¡­ But, your Highness, do you really need this proof? You are already about to inherit the crown, and your reputation isn¡¯t worrisome at all. The people even appreciate your efforts for funding the construction of factories and giving them the chance to be hired for a job.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, if we judge the situation with the assets I already have. However, even if the citizens agree with my ruling, my influence can still be disputed among other nobles and our neighbours unless I show them an irrefutable proof of my worth as a human being.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone would mind, considering you are the heir of this kingdom...¡±


    Three knocks rang from the room¡¯s entrance, a servant¡¯s way to address the master with a news to share. The guard half-opened the door and discreetly inquired about the message¡¯s content, before nodding to his colleague in acknowledgement and announcing to his liege the word of notice.


    ¡°Your Highness, his Majesty the king is asking for your presence in the gardens.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of the devil¡­¡± thought Louis, smiling inwardly at the amusing coincidence. Comparatively, his escorts seemed fazed by the king¡¯s summoning his son for a meeting, more or less fore-guessing the reason for the unscheduled call.


    Leaving the room with his guardsmen, the golden prince let himself be guided out of duty and etiquette by the servant. Their itinerary passed through the remarkable corridors adorned with paints of varied landscapes on the left side, with many scrolls of different size each containing the script for a heroic tale or a romantic poem.


    On his right, large arcs allowed him to contemplate the gorgeous inner garden of the palace blooming with so many colours one would be at a loss to find which tint to start with. The royal greenhouse was an enclosed place where you couldn¡¯t see the horizon nor feel the rain dropping from the sky, however, the sun shining through the glass roof sufficed to illuminate the verdancy of this closed off paradise.


    It was the ideal location to refresh one¡¯s mind thanks to the splendid aroma of the numerous flowers and the slightly chilly dew the gardener managed every day. And with that exact frame in mind, spending a little bit of one¡¯s private time to drink tea here has become one¡¯s favourite pastime.


    Once his arrival announced and his feet close to the table, the prince kneeled in front of the man with the grey shaggy beard who, just like him, wore the very fabric which characterized his status as the legitimate suzerain of the kingdom.


    ¡°Did you call for me, father?¡±


    The teacup was slammed against the plate in an annoyed manner, a clear sign the parent was met in a bad mood.


    ¡°Just because we are family doesn¡¯t mean you can dispense yourself from your status. How many time do I have to educate you until you remember your manners?¡±


    Louis smiled with amusement while reminiscing his younger days spent under the tutelage of dozens of tutors. Each lesson was deeply ingrained inside his head, be it history, etiquette, leadership, military, diplomacy, swordsmanship, astrology or theology. He remembered each words his teachers spoke to him, each knowledge they taught him. Everything was for the future of the kingdom he would one day rule.


    Yet, despite all the effort put into his education, all the effort the prince put into his own betterment, he rarely received the just gratification from the old person himself, nor as a king or as a father.


    Then perhaps looking for some paternal attention or because he felt he already was capable of accomplishing a few feats by himself, Louis started with a few business in the capital.


    Then it grew into a faction.


    Then it became a national industry.


    With the power the prince gathered by himself, it wouldn¡¯t be surprising if the king delayed no longer the day of succession. Alas, one factor remained incomplete, one far more important in the eyes of the elder than everything else.


    ¡°Look me in the eyes, Louis.¡±


    Obliged to listen, the prince raised his head and stared directly at his father¡¯s visage. Despite how old he appeared and the long wrinkles, the king showed no weakness at all, as a fiery blaze burned inside his eyes. A clear, undisputable fact that he was and is still loved by the Day Goddess. A trait that, unfortunately, the prince lacked.


    ¡°Mmh. I still see no cinders in your eyes, my son. How famished must be your faith if you keep allocating your time to those chimneys coughing this smoke that obscure my sky. I know the chaplain wouldn¡¯t lie to me about your diligent visit to the church, and yet you show me this dull face.¡±


    ¡°My apologies father, however, I can assure you I offer every day a bit of my time to pray for the goddess and her benediction. Alas, I am afraid words and actions that speak of my loyalty and faithfulness hardly move her heart.¡±


    ¡°What is it that you are actually lacking?¡± asked the king, out of curiosity but also out of satire, ¡°Loyalty? Faith? You serve the kingdom well, too well, that I am sometimes unable to understand what kind of ploy goes through your head. As for your faith, its foundation remains questionable to me.¡±


    ¡°My sincere apologies, my father. I guess my head is too thick to comprehend the delicate intricacies of our beloved goddess.


    Then if I may ask, father¡± continued the prince with a solemn tone, ¡°If my words can¡¯t reach the Day Goddess, then I would like to know how yours did. How did you get her attention, and how did you receive so much love from her?¡±


    The king himself stared at this son for a short while, maybe thinking how to admonish this ignorant fool. However, surprisingly, the old man was actually carefully looking for the correct sentence to describe the feeling, the state of mind and the devotion he channelled whenever he prayed to the goddess they cherished.


    ¡°¡¯The Day Goddess smile to every people who wake up on the morning, and who smile back at her.¡¯


    Why is it so difficult for you to get it?¡±


    Those words weren¡¯t meant to be taken as a blame or an insult, Louis understood well. The texts were simple, the condition in reach, all that was needed was a little push from the prayer and the goddess would respond.


    It was that simple, the king tried to blurt out but couldn¡¯t do so easily. Not in the presence of so many witnesses.


    Nodding his head, Louis acknowledged his father¡¯s words before he was allowed to leave.

 Chapter 3 - The Fire in Her Eyes [Part 2]

    Later that day, during the afternoon break.


    A group of servants busied themselves with many tools, utensils and porcelains decorated with extravagant patterns, rich both in form and in artistry. Any blacksmith was capable of producing hundreds of spoons if the applicant had ties with royalty, however, no hammer could replicate those fine valleys and hills with such precision. And thus the whitesmith¡¯s guild often prized itself as the closest to the king¡¯s family and acquaintances, their claims backed both with pride and truth.


    Thousands of artisans dreamt of working directly for their suzerain, alas the minimum criteria were so complicated only a few chosen could be selected to become dedicated producers of various items. Painters were asked to immortalize their suzerain on a canvas and also to maintain the clarity of the walls¡¯ and pillars¡¯ tint. Tailors were constantly sweating next to their sewing machine to fabricate more and more clothes for all purposes.


    Every worker had to possess talent for quality and beauty, otherwise their entry would be denied or worse case, their salary diminished.


    Servants had their own worry on their own, they needed to keep a meticulous behaviour at all times. Cleaning the rooms and corridors, washing the sheets and the carpets, delivering the food from the kitchen to the dining room. And yet those tasks only encompassed the time they allocated for their master as they also had to repeat most of those chores for the entire staff working inside the castle.


    While the pendulum rang the fifteenth hour of the day, the elegant round table had already been transported alongside everything necessary to enjoy an alleviating pause. Two chairs with soft cushions for the bosom and the back were prepared, then finally one of them knocked on the door, waited for the reply, before a duo of maids opened the large double door to allow the prince inside his room.


    ¡°Your Highness, as requested your tea was brewed with the leaves Mr. Philepin sent you as a gift. The snacks were baked following the usual recipe, however, the sugar is from a different source as our Head Butler has seen fit to please your palate.¡±


    ¡°Of course¡± laughed Louis at the mention of the Head Butler¡¯s unwanted attention to this detail, ¡°After all, he knows best about my taste. You may leave now.¡±


    Bowing to their master, the servants allocated to preparing the tea break left the room, leaving only a couple of them behind to take care of the prince¡¯s necessities. While the tea was sufficiently hot for spouting the usual semi-transparent white gas, the closest servant began to fill his master¡¯s cup. Another maid stood still next to the entrance to act as an intermediary to receive guests, whereas the third and last one also waited on standby nearby just in case.


    Watching this scene unfolding before his eyes for the nth time, Louis couldn¡¯t help but smile inside his head, pondering if this etiquette originated from the famous three-man formation.


    But as he was about to take a sip from his cup, a knock interrupted his thoughts and the servant at the door pronounced the name of the prince¡¯s guest.


    ¡°Lady Cl¨¦mond wishes to meet Your Highness.¡±


    Receiving visitors even during break time wasn¡¯t unheard of for the sole heir of the kingdom. What was unexpected, however, was the identity of said visitor, as such a person wouldn¡¯t usually come and meet the prince unannounced.


    After one brief lapse of thoughts, Louis gave his permission to the servant who allowed the door to open. The next person coming in the room was a woman with delicate features and an extravagant dress covered with ribbons and jewels. It was akin to a piece of the starry sky torn from heaven, and tailored into a magnificent cloth of power, wealth and beauty.


    The eye-catching profoundness of her allure seemed to absorb the surroundings as the colours boldly contrasted with the brilliant and vivid place where the royalty stood in. So much that people would found themselves believing the act was done on purpose to contradict a few local aspects, and they would be right.


    ¡°My prince, may the Day Goddess smiles upon you¡± Vinithite Cl¨¦mond Vanessa Dimtus, fianc¨¦e of the prince, offered as a pleasant introduction, gently bowing as if facing a person of equal status.


    ¡°And may she smiles upon you as well, my dear fianc¨¦e¡± answered the prince by lifting his cup of tea as a show of invitation.


    Smiling after receiving his benediction, she approached the table and sat opposite to the prince, waiting for a servant to fill her cup before pursuing the conversation.


    ¡°Is business still doing fine? Ever since this morning I¡¯ve had this little bird chirping in my ears about this regretful incident-ouch, hot hot¡­¡±


    While holding back his laugh, the prince took a sip, enjoying the pleasant fragrance.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been told about it too. A worker at one of the factory misused the machinery which heated up and ended up exploding, damaging part of the complex and putting on hold the line of production there. It¡¯s a common occurrence, indeed.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t seem too upset about it.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°I¡¯ve just been thinking a bit about it. On a bright side, the explosion only damaged some goods, everything can be rebuilt anew and work will resume in a few days. No one lost their lives, and this is the best outcome I could hope for.¡±


    ¡°But many seized this opportunity to criticize those same factories you¡¯re praising every day¡± retorted the lady before munching on a peach-flavoured biscuit, ¡°Mmh, those are delicious¡­¡±


    Perhaps curious after hearing her critic, Louis grabbed for himself the same biscuit for tasting. Despite its crispy appearance, the biscuit actually melted on the tongue leaving behind a humble savour of peach with a heavy pinch of sugar. Noticing the peculiarity, he tried to warn his fianc¨¦e about it, which she quickly took to heart and stopped her gluttony from taking over, maybe reminiscing how a few of her entourage ended up after indulging themselves for too long.


    ¡°About those rumours¡­ It really can¡¯t be helped¡± sighed the prince, ¡°Most come from the populace¡¯s ignorance and credulity, while the rest are born from outside my reach.¡±


    Thinking his wording odd, lady Cl¨¦mond inquired he prince to clear her confusion, which he gladly began to explain after picking a second biscuit.


    ¡°Have you seen how a machine operates? It¡¯s a wonder of metal and ingenuity, built on a robust balance to repeat a monotonous task again and again. The gears rotating in repetition, the pipes holding on the pressure of the vapour flowing inside which results in a controlled cycle from which we can exert immense strength.


    I truly believe this is the wisdom of the fire the Day Goddess wanted to share with us.¡±


    ¡°Well if those machines are so divine like you described them, then why did they explode?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the neat part, my dear fianc¨¦e: they¡¯re not supposed to explode, but at worse to break down. There are rare cases where the pressure chamber could burst for some reasons, however, our blacksmiths stand way beyond such minor mistakes and would not dare to deliver a fragile container to the royal family.¡±


    ¡°So you mean¡­¡±


    It was sabotaged. The phenomenal industry mankind managed to construct from rocks and stones, one of the most beneficial breakthrough of History and the greatest boon in economy of this kingdom, was still despised by a resentful minority.


    Their casus belli were numerous: it could have been because they feared this incomprehensible age of machines, or because the fire they so much worshipped was unceremoniously used as a heater, but of course the worst possibilities were because a few either desired to see how devastating such explosions could become or because they were secretly pushing against the new rising force in the nation.


    Unsettled by those prospects, lady Cl¨¦mond had her eyes fixated on her tea while her mind was gazing at something else.


    ¡°That¡¯s a bit unfair of a strategy, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more or less fine. As long as their objective remain as bland as wrecking one or two machines, there is hardly anything to worry about.¡±


    Seeing his fianc¨¦e not easing up, the prince added another comment on the subject. If they did escalate it any further, it would reach a scale where he could interject a tad more directly rather than merely providing funds for repairs and speeches for the crowd.


    After all, accidents are bound to happen a few times in a year, however, may it occurs often enough to seem suspicious, the police would not suffice to resolve the issue with only an intervention. The populace would worry, then turn this worry toward the man responsible for bringing up those touchy machines which could more than potentially harm others. In other words, Louis would by general consensus be compelled to act one way or another.


    People would most certainly expect him to apologize for said accidents, after all he was the pioneer who built all those factories. If he was at least half as decent as a human being, he would repent for the many deaths he has caused with his far-from-pious idea.


    However, an apology wasn¡¯t the only word one could share during an official statement.


    ¡°Actually¡± continued the prince on his momentum, ¡°I¡¯ve been building quite the reputation and the connections ever since I started this political adventure. Just like me, more and more are agreeing on the benefice of relying on machines instead of humans to perform heavy labour. People from renowned families, people from beyond this country¡¯s boundaries. It¡¯s like I¡¯ve sparked a new trend that nobody could ignore any longer.¡±


    Hearing those words, lady Cl¨¦mond felt a sense of urgency. Her mind warned her of a subtle but undeniable feeling aching from her waist.


    If she dared to read between his lines, she somehow had the impression Louis felt both untouchable and irresistible. Even when grazed, he would remain stainless. Even when abandoned, he would find a new hearth somewhere else. Even if she were to be cut off from the royal family, he could easily and certainly in less than a week meet another suitable partner.


    Her eyes sparked a faint gleam, not from the holy fire, but of a hardly masked envy.


    ¡°A country doesn¡¯t run on sweat ideas, my Prince, but on stability and wealth. If the majority believes machines are harmful, then they are harmful and will be forever rejected. If people believe fire is to remain a sacred torch for mankind and not to be trifled with dirty hands, then it will remain as a divine symbol placed above everyone¡¯s head.


    Please remember that we¡¯re standing here because they believe we all share the same concepts and not some baseless novelties.¡±


    The remark sounded oddly familiar in Louis¡¯s ear. Perhaps he has heard those same words spoken by his father a year or so ago. They sounded similar, respectful and also full of contempt. Did entertaining traditions really went against celebrating innovation? Despite lacking the obvious mark of the Day Goddess, a large amount of heads still treated him as a prince. So where exactly was he wrong about his endeavour? Or was he wrong at all?


    With those thoughts in mind, even he couldn¡¯t help but lightly chortle.


    ¡°You look so confident and religious, my dear fianc¨¦e, yet I see no fire in these eyes either.¡±


    ¡°Your Highness!¡± she snapped at slammed the table, ¡°May I remind you that everyone is waiting for the day you become chosen by the Day Goddess?!¡±


    ¡°And may I remind you that everyone else is waiting for the day of my coronation more so than a benediction?¡± calmly replied the prince.


    Gritting her teeth in ire, lady Cl¨¦mond slammed once more the table before leaving in a hurry the room as her mood was about to rupture. Disregarding etiquette for this time, she abruptly opened the doors and walked away while clenching her fits.


    Meanwhile, Louis sipped another little mouthful from his tea, enjoying either her small outrage or the remanence of her latest snide remark.


    The afternoon break passed in the blink of an eye, and as always he has been told again about the importance of one single trait in a human.


    However, fortunately or not, that didn¡¯t truly matter for the heir to the throne. With or without Her benediction, mankind would still progress forward. That was his wish all along.

 Chapter 3 - The Fire in Her Eyes [Part 3]

    Each breath was fresher than the other, which helped a lot in cooling down Louis¡¯s head after a relentless day of running after people sharing his ideal and running from people looking for his divine mark. Exhausted from all the commotions, the prince spent his time looking at the night sky, the dark eerie veil covering the landscape from one horizon to another left an aftertaste of misadventure and of unconquered lands.


    Territory that can¡¯t belong to humans. Territory beyond a human¡¯s reach.


    A long time ago, humanity clashed against the forces of the other side. Unspeakable threats engulfing plains and mountains in a single night, eating the soil as it sunk in an irreversible state of nothingness, these creatures knew no bounds on starvation and no concepts of morality. Devouring, devouring and devouring again, it was a bland, dark wave as depthless as the abyss.


    Eventually, this seemingly unstoppable force was defeated by mankind¡¯s finest. Clad in the fire and the love of the Day Goddess, they withstood and endured the harshest gauntlets, and won.


    Darkness retreated, and humanity could finally start to step on the lightless world of their own lands. Torch and lance in hands, they marched, settled and finally brought themselves to the next steps in civilisation.


    Looking at the ramparts in the distance, Louis spotted tiny specks like fireflies following the lines of fortifications. Three-men patrols wielding fire-lances, the pinnacle of humans¡¯ solution against any danger. Their duty appeared both boring and extremely dangerous, but it went without saying that those men fulfilled a fundamental role in the well-being of today¡¯s society.


    You could name it in many ways, however, it was the truth that those same men were the current frontline of humanity against darkness. The job was easy enough for anyone to apply, the salary satisfying despite the risks involved, however, their duty was the same as those from the legends.


    If darkness remained and humans kept fighting against it, then Louis had every reason to grow more and more sceptical.


    Why wouldn¡¯t the Day Goddess bless him? Maybe She was valuing him differently than what others are trying to make him believe.


    But then, why nobody else was blessed ever since the end of the war? Louis theorized that no more heroes were needed in the eyes of the Day Goddess, and thus gifting Her blessing wasn¡¯t necessary anymore for their survival.


    Every day, every evening and every time Louis stared at the city breathing under his eyes, the same unholy thought crossed his mind.


    ¡°Perhaps the Day Goddess doesn¡¯t love us anymore¡­ Or perhaps she never loved us to begin with and only guided us on this thorny path.


    We mortals are merely ants when compared to a god, brainless herd of sheep that some random shepherd found and took upon itself to help traverse the river.¡±


    The prince hoped he was wrong, otherwise he would start doubting his own race¡¯s worth in addition to their inner strength. But if he was indeed right¡­ Then he could only laugh at how much humanity progressed thanks to the benevolence of their shepherd.


    Feeling the wind turning even colder, Louis decided to put an end to his stay on the balcony. Once inside his room, the servants closed the door behind and helped him change his outer wear for the night. After they were done and upon receiving the command to leave, they all bowed and departed from the chamber.


    Standing alone in front of the mirror, the prince pondered one last question to his reflection.


    ¡°In the end, what has mankind gained from siding with the Day Goddess? Peace? Prosperity? Or a chance to live?


    Then on the other hand¡­ What have our ancestors given up on to receive her attention?


    What was the criteria, where is the limit, and why us?¡±


    He was certain that the answers to those question would bring him closer to solving his daily issue. If he could understand a bit more the Day Goddess¡¯s intentions¡­ But of course, his curiosity would spell more than trouble if he were to tell anyone else.


    Smiling at his funny state and situation, Louis bid farewell to the mirror and finally laid down on the comfy bed, ready to send his mind in the land of dreams.


    However, just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard a heavy luggage drop on his balcony. Or not exactly, he didn¡¯t exactly heard something drop. Yet, it was undeniable that something ¨Cor someone- made a deafened ruckus next to his room.


    It couldn¡¯t have been a late servant, and his balcony especially was one of the hardest point to reach from outside, this left one last speculation in his annoyed mind. An assassin.


    Grabbing his sword, the prince prepared himself to throw the hitman like trash after slicing him in a dozen of pieces. Through the glass separating his room from the balcony, his eyesight caught something¡­ Beyond his imagination.


    The large silhouette drew itself from the dark of the night, fumbling like a wild animal hunting a prey out of its sight, but within reach of its smell.


    Creatures couldn¡¯t fly. There has never been mentions, witnesses or even speculation about this fact. No creatures had wings of even anything close to the ability to float above ground. They could grow above the clouds, expand beyond the largest deserts, but they always had been terrestrial entities.


    This thing here had wings.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    And even worse¡­ Its eyes glowed in the dark in a supernatural way.


    It wasn¡¯t the glow of a predator hiding in the bushes, but the blaze of the sun he was so familiar with.


    Just like his father the king, this thing had fire in its eyes. And it was looking straight at him.


    His alertness rose up when Louis noticed the intruder poking on the glass, its breath tainting the panels before trying the handle on the door, the slow and laborious process only made the prince more uneasy and certain that the guest wasn¡¯t human. He affirmed the grasp on his sword and awaited his opponent¡¯s move.


    At last, the handle was pushed, but the lock prevented it from being opened any further.


    Perhaps noticing the futility of the result, the monster started to lean against the frame, trying to get a better picture of what was inside. The prince, however, believed it was trying to get his attention. The incendiary gaze kept staring at him, burning down his confidence bit by bit.


    Then, the monster stepped back and flew away.


    It all happened so quickly, Louis remained frozen in his stance sword in hands. Many kind of doubts circled in his heads, questioning the monster¡¯s intentions, its whereabouts, and most importantly: why was there a wild monster in the capital?


    Monsters should all have been exterminated during the war, a mere collateral damage when humanity fought against darkness. Their extinction was inevitable, as they represented a force capable of threatening the peace humans were trying to sustain with their lives.


    Alas, Louis also knew of the hypocrisy and the dementia of a lot. After all, capturing monsters and taming them like pets did turn into a profit while it lasted. This one probably escaped from one of those underground zoos, however, it now found itself stuck in the city as the outer wild was too dangerous with those hungry shadows lurking around.


    The best he should do now was put the monster out of misery. As a human being, that was what he should have been doing.


    Instead, the prince unlocked the door and stepped again on the balcony, his sword still in hand but the intent to kill was now lacking.


    Then, he simply stood there. After scanning his surroundings, Louis found no traces of the monster. It was already gone as if it never happened in the first place.


    However, he knew better.


    As before, he same noise of a heavy luggage falling echoed next to him. Slightly turning his head toward the source of the noise, his eyes now accustomed to the dimness of the night stared back at the winged beast.


    ¡°The head and the torso of a woman, but the wings and the talons of a bird¡­ You¡¯re a harpy.¡±


    The fiery eyes pierced his soul like daggers could pierce one¡¯s skin. Louis remembered the many tales the librarians recounted from their search: of how a man with the Day Goddess¡¯s blessing could easily rip apart a bull bare handed, or how one hero withstood the fire of a dragon¡¯s breath while merely crossing his arms.


    Those insane feats did happen in the past, otherwise humans couldn¡¯t possibly have won this war against both monsters and creatures.


    But now, such unfathomable strength stood before him. Not as a fellow human being, but from the side of the once defeated by his ancestors.


    It actually wouldn¡¯t be surprising if the monster started rampaging here, killing every human and reducing this town to ashes. After all, with the fire in her eyes, this was a feat absolutely in her capacity.


    But she didn¡¯t. The harpy didn¡¯t lay a finger nor on the castle, nor on the prince despite presenting himself. Instead, she called for attention. Why?


    With those thoughts in mind¡­ The prince lightly laughed it off.


    ¡°I have¡­ So many questions right now, and I am not even sure a harpy can communicate with a human in the first place, so where should I start already?¡±


    ¡°Throw¡­ The sword.¡±


    The prince was shocked from hearing the monster uttering words in his language.


    ¡°You can speak?!¡±


    The harpy offered no further response, her gaze juggling between his eyes and the sword in his hands. Getting the hint, Louis¡­ Still held some doubts in his heart. Should he trust this monster, or perhaps¡­ No, thinking in any other way would be ridiculous. If she so much wanted, she could make this fort crumbles in a single hit. What could a stick of iron accomplish against the ones chosen by the Day Goddess?


    ¡°Mh¡­ Really, you never know what tomorrow holds for you.¡±


    In one swoop, the prince threw away his weapon beyond the fences of the balcony, the sword spinning in the air until it stuck itself in the dirt of the garden or in the bark of a tree.


    Watching the arm being thrown away, the harpy redirected her burning eyes on the prince. Feeling her hostility ¨Cor perhaps her mistrust- he opened his arm, showing to the monster his complete lack of arsenal.


    ¡°I threw away my only weapon, and the only thing left I have is this humble vestment. Will it suffice to ease you, monster?¡±


    ¡°You¡­ Humans¡­ Are monsters.¡±


    ¡°I guess in your eyes, we are the true monsters. We discarded anything that seemed dangerous for us, we even went as far as reshaping the land and mastering the resources of nature to satisfy our growing needs of comfort and security. If I met a horse and found out it was building fortresses and walls out of stones, even I would feel frightened.


    But that is our strength. We aren¡¯t as strong as minotaurs, nor as fast as the centaurs. We aren¡¯t as tall as the cyclops, nor can we harness magical power like the medusas. We are weak, and that is why we had to nurture our own strength.¡±


    ¡°Strong words¡­ From a race chosen by¡­ Day Goddess.¡±


    The prince had no words to retort her. She was right, humans could become as intelligent as they desired it would still be too late when the tides crushed against their walls. In the end, they won not thanks to their technological advancement, but because out of every people living on this world, humans were the ones chosen by the Day Goddess.


    Not the monsters. Not the harpies. But humans.


    The question repeated itself inside his head. Why had She chosen humans over anyone else? Out of pity, because they were easily massacred by monsters? Out of rationalism, because She felt humans were a better fit?


    ¡°But then why¡± asked the prince with a mix of irritation and curiosity, ¡°Why did She chooses you now?¡±


    After spouting his question, Louis suddenly noticed the harpy approaching him, one step at a time. Clenching his fits, he awaited for the harpy to make herself clear. Showing evident hostility towards a hero chosen would only spell his doom.


    Only when the monster stood in front of Louis could he discern her visage as well as both her feminine and monstrous figure. She could grow as pretty as she wanted, the inhumane body parts reminded Louis that he wasn¡¯t dealing with another lady from his usual routine. Her body was covered in tattered clothes, perhaps from looting unlucky fellows who stumbled upon her figure in the city.


    The wings themselves appeared both harmonious and majestic, the amethyst tinted feathers seemed to glow slightly in the dark with timid but numerous little spots of golden marks to accentuate the elegant beauty of a bird. In other circumstances, maybe Louis would have let himself enjoy the sight a bit longer. But when cornered and judged by her eyes, all he could feel right now was anxiety.


    She didn¡¯t seem taller than him, but her presence was enough to make him believe he was just a mice in front of an eagle.


    The harpy squinted her eyes, perhaps out of satisfaction, of boredom or just plain spite.


    ¡°The Day Goddess¡­ Smiles back¡­ But only¡­ If you smile first.¡±


    The Day Goddess smile to every people who wake up on the morning, and who smile back at her. How many times has he heard this exact same phrase? But how surprised was he when he heard it again coming from the mouth of a monster?


    ¡°You take¡­ And you don¡¯t give back¡­


    You think of yourself first¡­ Then others last¡­


    Your actions¡­ Killed your worthiness¡­¡±

 Chapter 3 - The Fire in Her Eyes [Part 4]

    Humanity¡¯s egoism severed their faith for the Day Goddess. It took a while for Louis to understand the harpy¡¯s twisted wording, but in the end¡­ It somehow made sense for him. After all, he was one of the first who proposed to utilize the fire as an industrial tool for mankind¡¯s progress. Not as a weapon to fight back darkness, but as a hearth to warm one¡¯s home.


    Louis placed his hand on his face in embarrassment, wondering no longer why no more heroes were born in history since the end of the war.


    ¡°My turn¡± declared the harpy while distancing herself from the prince.


    He was the one asking the questions in this conversation, and he received the answers he was looking for even if they were disappointing.


    ¡°That would only be fair¡­ What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°I smell my kin¡­ Inside here¡± the harpy¡¯s gaze turned toward the upper levels of the castle, then back on the prince¡¯s confused look ¡°Give them back.¡±


    ¡°Your kin? ¡­ Why do you want your kin back?¡±


    First of all, it was very dubious the royal family or any resident in the castle would even think about keeping a group of harpies here. They would be noticed quickly by anyone living here for a lot of reasons. That¡¯s why the prince deduced she couldn¡¯t be talking about living beings, otherwise he had a ton of work to finish the day before tomorrow.


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ Have¡­¡± the harpy stuttered, perhaps having difficulties finding the right words to express her thoughts. It was already impressive for a monster to hold a conversation with a human, so Louis didn¡¯t blame her for finding herself stuck on a sentence once or twice. It was pretty amusing to look at, but of course he didn¡¯t let it show on his face.


    ¡°I want my family back¡± shyly confessed the harpy, ¡°I want¡­ Family.¡±


    This time, it was Louis who was at a loss of words. The harpy, a monster described as a man-eater who seduced its prey, actually displayed feelings a human could empathize with. It was strangely¡­ Heart-warming to witness, or perhaps also terrifying to learn only now that those monsters could actually have the same feelings as humans do.


    However, it would also mean that the harpy wasn¡¯t lying. There were harpies held in captivity somewhere in the royal castle. She smelled their scent, followed the tracks and ended up here. It was actually quite fortuitous that she didn¡¯t start by ravaging everything here in an attempt to free her people. This actually made Louis quite curious about the harpy¡¯s thoughts on this matter, however, she seemed to refuse to debate on her intentions.


    Instead, her answer became a theat.


    ¡°Give them back¡­ Or else I will.¡±


    Louis smiled at the childish yet very real menace she posed.


    ¡°Very well, I will help you find your family. But you must put your trust in me. Can you do that?¡±


    To those words, the harpy tensed up, certainly not used to the idea of trusting a human.


    ¡­


    The corridor was dimly lit by the candle held in the prince¡¯s hand, the light barely enough to brighten just a short two meters ahead. Louis himself was used to this place as he was born and lived all his life inside the royal castle, so even this short range of sight was enough for him to recognize what was right from left.


    On the other hand, his company only felt more and more strained by their current situation.


    ¡°My apologies, but in case someone meet us this late at night¡­ We have to take some precautions.¡±


    Covered from shoulders to toes, the harpy appeared like a young maiden escorted by the prince. When seeing this, people shouldn¡¯t notice the harpy¡¯s true identity as a monster, but as the prince having an affair with a stranger when he was already fianc¨¦. Which, in the current case, was still better than being found out letting a monster walk inside the royal castle.


    In any case, the circumstances were extreme enough to let himself receive a scornful hit for once instead of risking a plain and instant exile.


    For now, each time they met a servant or a guard on night duty, his excuse would be ¡®I am just taking a stroll, you can leave us¡¯.


    ¡°My wings¡­ Not comfy¡­¡± whined the harpy clad in a sumptuous cape borrowed from the prince¡¯s wardrobe, the cloth ample enough to hide any inhumane features from onlookers.


    ¡°Then perhaps I¡¯ll think about having a tailor-made dress ready for you next time¡± jokingly said Louis, imagining the harpy wearing outfits from balls and ceremonies he was used to while she would only find exhausting.


    ¡°What¡¯s ¡®tailor-made¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it means a cloth sewn just for you.¡±


    Deliberately leaving most of the details to facilitate the harpy¡¯s comprehension, Louis continued to walk in front while the harpy stayed behind him.


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    Once arriving at a junction, the duo could either choose the right of the left direction. Even if Louis knew where both could lead them, he still turned towards the harpy and asked her about their next course.


    Closing her eyes, she sniffed a few times the air before reaching a conclusion.


    ¡°Smell stronger¡­ Right.¡±


    ¡°Then right it is.¡±


    Following the harpy¡¯s sense of smell, they both walked towards the right corridor. It was basically a walk in the castle in the middle of the night as if the prince was helping his dog looking for something only the animal could sniff out. The metaphor brought a smile on Louis¡¯s face.


    ¡°Human, why are you laughing?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, I just remembered something funny¡­ Besides, isn¡¯t it a bit improper to call me ¡®human¡¯?¡±


    ¡°You call me Harpy. I call you Human.¡±


    ¡°Then how about introducing each other with our names? I am Louis Rubimic Chartelle Primtus. It¡¯s a bit of a long name, so you can just call me Louis. How about it?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± asked the harpy, maybe pondering on the prince¡¯s intentions or simply looking for a good reason for this farce.


    ¡°Because it¡¯ll help for communication. Giving each other¡¯s name is like a formal exchange, it helps in building a connection and improve a relationship with each other, to differentiate who is who, where they come from.


    I wouldn¡¯t dare asking for too much as you are a monster and me a human, however, I am certain it is still better to use each other¡¯s name rather than keeping this purely platonic.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s ¡®platonic¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ It means to be attached to someone or something, but without any emotional attachment.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Uh.¡±


    Perhaps spouting a word in relation to a philosophy was still too early for a member of a people who didn¡¯t had part in civilisation. Louis made a mental note to keep his phrasing as¡­ Ordinary as possible.


    ¡°Then, can I have your name?¡±


    ¡°Here, left.¡±


    Brought back to reality by the harpy¡¯s frank remark, Louis hid his frustration and kept going towards the direction the harpy pointed to.


    Was he too hasty when conversing with the harpy? Was he too easy-going to let those events unfold before him, and to unfold those events himself when he was a human while she was a monster?


    In any case, all of this happening was proof enough that a lot of things could be changed with just a simple exchange of words. Did that turn him into a na?ve person full of beautiful ideals?


    ¡°No¡± he thought suddenly to deny his train of thoughts, ¡°I¡¯m just being opportunistic. I see a chance, so I grab it. I can clean the filth in the castle of any possible madmen who believed it was a good idea to build a den of harpy in the royal castle, while nurturing a good relation with a goddess¡¯s chosen one.¡±


    But this was all based on the assumption the harpy didn¡¯t lie about her kin being present here. From a monster whose talent resided in seducing others, the probability was rather high.


    This was all a bet for Louis. A bet where we would either win big or lose big. A bet where the potential reward could outweigh any sort of risk, while the chips betted were by themselves invaluable as well.


    He really hoped he wasn¡¯t making a mistake when he decided to believe in that harpy.


    ¡°Philadtrictumdeh.¡±


    The prince blurted a strange noise, thinking he misheard the harpy.


    ¡°My name is¡­ Philadtrictumdeh. It¡¯s a bit¡­ Long, so call me¡­ Philad.¡±


    ¡°Philad¡­ That¡¯s a beautiful name.¡±


    Philad¡­ Philadtrictumdeh¡­ Louis let the name roll multiple times in his head until he correctly memorized it. The pronunciation itself was already out of his culture to begin with, so the short version was very welcome as it made her name easier to say.


    Alas, his mood quickly turned sour at Philad¡¯s next words.


    ¡°Smell¡­ It¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°But this way is¡­¡±


    Louis suddenly felt nervous, a bad omen hung over his head as he contemplated the corridor which led to his father¡¯s bedroom. Hundreds of scenarios rolled inside Louis¡¯s mind, the best case the entire thing being completely coincidental. At worse, he would find his own paternal bedding a harpy, and that would still be tolerable. Borderline, prompt for punishment, but as he was his king and his father the scene could still be somehow excused.


    However, what if it was worse than that? What if they found his father actually inflicting harm on a monster as a hobby? Knowing his father having fire in his eyes could only make him sweat even more profusely.


    This was¡­ A really bad, unexpected outcome. However, Louis had no time to let go of his fear as he noticed Philad walking forward without his lead.


    ¡°Philad, wait!¡±


    But it was too late to stop her, as the guards standing next to the bedroom¡¯s door weren¡¯t expecting a young maiden accompanying the prince on a midnight stroll to reveal of out nowhere a pair of wings and the strength to put them unconscious in a single strike.


    They didn¡¯t sound dead from their groaning, but they would need medical attention later.


    While thinking of an excuse for later, Louis followed Philad as she already burst the door down and entered the chamber.


    By the time Louis made it to the room, he found his father lying on his bed, the harpy pinning him down with her talons.


    ¡°What¡¯s the meaning of this?!¡± roared the king with fury, ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, you fucking monster!¡±


    The old man¡¯s glare shone in the darkness of the room, yet despite flailing his arms he somehow couldn¡¯t gather the strength to fend off the harpy.


    ¡°Father!¡± shouted Louis, ¡°Philad, let him go! He¡¯s doing no harm!¡±


    The confusing scene seemed to have alerted the surrounding patrols, as sounds of iron boots reverberated in the corridor from behind him. If this lasted any longer, his diplomatic effort would soon be reduced to ashes.


    He could run and try to dislodge the harpy, but thinking about it even his father failed to repel the monster. The realization froze him in place. All that was left for him was to run his mouth until Philad deigned to listen to him.


    ¡°Run away Louis, I¡¯ll take care of this monster!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt her father! Philad please listen to me and let him go!¡±


    ¡°Louis?! What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Philad, please! Let¡¯s talk first, okay?¡±


    The prince tried to soothe the harpy, however, her emotion refused to agree.


    ¡°You smell like my kin¡­ Why? Where is my kin? Where are my people?!¡±


    Philad sensed the familiar smell, followed the tracks, and ended up meeting a human who harboured the exact same smell she was looking for. How? Why? Louis had no idea what was happening, he could only speculate that¡­ Oh no.


    ¡°Your people? Ah! The irony!¡± laughed the king as he glared at the harpy with murderous intent, ¡°So you¡¯re here for vengeance, isn¡¯t that right? You¡¯re here, looking for your fellow harpies, but all you found was the man who hunted them all?


    What good fucking irony! It could have turned into a comedic theatrics if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that you¡¯re still alive, monster. And I will solve that issue right here, right now!¡±


    The king, Louis¡¯s father, with fire in his eyes and chosen by the Day Goddess, reputed for massacring monsters and creatures alike¡­ Was the perpetrator of the harpy¡¯s genocide.


    Realizing this fact at the same time, Louis¡¯s face paled as Philad¡¯s figure burst into tears of rage.

 Chapter 3 - The Fire in Her Eyes [Epilogue]

    Once upon a time, a little girl was happy. She was happy because her mother and her father stood alongside her.


    Her family loved her a lot, as she was a single child in this family.


    She also had a lot of friends who she enjoyed playing with.


    The little girl was happy, and everything was fine.


    But one day, monsters appeared in the forest nearby. Wearing plates of metal and spikes of fire, they slaughtered the little girl¡¯s friends one by one.


    To protect her from harm, her family hid her away, hoping the feeble cache was enough to foul the monsters.


    At the end of the day, the little girl found her hometown burned down, her family and her friends were gone. She was sad because she was left alone.


    As she was now alone, the little girl decided to travel around the world.


    While traveling, she met those monsters again.


    They were piling stones on each other to build large huts. They were razing down forests. They were crossing plains and seas aboard constructs of wood.


    Those strange monsters terrified the little girl.


    However, one day, she noticed the monsters caging other monsters. Big monsters. Same monsters. They caged a lot of different monsters.


    So the little girl thought: ¡°Maybe they also caged my friends and family!¡±


    Then her adventure began.


    She would look for traces of those strange monsters who hunted other monsters.


    But sometimes, they also killed those monsters they caged.


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    So the little girl prayed.


    She prayed that those monsters were malign enough to capture monsters, but not cruel enough to kill them.


    She relied on humanity¡¯s sick behaviour to find her friends and family.


    She hoped that humans would be mischievous enough to keep her people alive as pet or at least as plaything.


    She hoped that humans would be sadistic enough to not let her people die too soon so she could rescue them.


    In order to not be alone anymore, she had to rely on humanity¡¯s darkest side of personality.


    And now that she learnt the truth, the harpy was sad as she never has been.


    When she lost her friends and family, she was sad.


    When she found out she had to survive alone in the wild, she was sad.


    However, none of those memories could be compared to when she had to accept she was alone, again, but now forever.


    She would never find friends again in a world where monsters only believed in killing other monsters.


    She would never find a family, for she knew she couldn¡¯t bear a child too.


    The little girl was sad, for she already knew she would be lonely for the rest of her life.


    ¡°Philad!¡±


    Hearing her name being pronounced by someone, the little girl turned her head towards the stranger.


    She recognized him, he was the only good human she had met during her journey.


    The only one who didn¡¯t try to harm her. The only one who didn¡¯t thought about caging her.


    But as he looked at her face, he failed to say another word. Never in his life had he seen such sadness and hatred in someone¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Stop fooling with me, monster!¡± hurled the king as he managed to free one arm which he used to hit the harpy.


    Her leg hurt from the blow, it wasn¡¯t enough to break a bone, but sufficient to ignite her feelings.


    In retaliation, she cried and cried and teared out the old man¡¯s other arm.


    Then she snuck her talons inside his rib cage.


    Then she invoked flames to char his face.


    The little girl was sad. But more than anything else, she was furious too.


    Furious, because she prayed.


    Furious, because she hoped.


    And in the end, she recovered nothing.


    Her eyes finally considering the carnage under her feet, Philad broke down in tears and curled up in a ball.


    But when a warm hand touched her shoulder, she jumped away from the prince who tried to console her.


    Then, a thought terrified her to the core.


    In a world full of monsters, only one person extended his hand for her to grab.


    It was fate at play, the Day Goddess¡¯s wish to give her solace.


    Like a mother pitying her lonesome daughter, She made them met.


    Solace in the hands of a human. But how could the harpy find solace now that her hopes were crushed?


    ¡°Philad, wait!¡±


    But it was too late. The play was at its end.


    The harpy flew through the window, leaving behind only a single purple feather.