Well, that worked, Crystal thought sarcastically to himself, as he watched the group of frightened peasants running away down the road. But at least those thieves will think twice before trying to ambush any more travelers. Crystal turned around and glared after the distant shapes of the bandits who were fleeing in the opposite direction. Satisfied with another job almost well done, he slunk off the road into the cool shade of the forest.
Once he was at a distance where it was unlikely he would be easily seen from the road, Crystal started south at a slow and steady pace. He followed the turns and twists of the winding forest route from half a mile away, always keeping it in sight but making sure he didn’t stray to close. In the uppermost boughs of tall trees he could scarcely make out the chirping of the birds; a light, melodious sound that drifted weakly down to Crystals small ears. A fleeting shape scurried along the corner of Crystal’s vision. He turned just in time to see a shining, golden fox slip swiftly into its burrow. With a slight smile, he kept walking. As he plodded lazily through the rough foliage Crystal let his mind wander, a trick he had taught himself to help pass the time while he was on his patrols, as he liked to call them.
He began thinking about the past, not his favorite subject to dwell on but certainly the most easily conjured. He thought about his parent. He had only small, scattered memories.
Whenever Crystal thought about his parents, it was inevitable that he would start to wonder about things. He wondered how his father had given him up to a cruel demon like Belschazzar. Did he not care about him anymore? No, Crystal knew that he did or at least before he became a demon. Somehow, he just knew. How did such a great man as his father get converted so easily? As often as Crystal pondered this question, he was rarely able to come up with a suitable answer. His imagination gave him several wild possibilities, all of which he discarded by the end of the day as being too farfetched and unrealistic.
As Crystal followed the road as it bent around a small, rocky hill he let his thoughts drift to his life with Belschazzar. The cruelty, the anger, the pain, the feelings of helplessness and self-loathing all came flooding back into his mind. He remembered how often he had wished for revenge on Belschazzar. Then, of course, he remembered the night he had gotten his wish. Crystal put a hand over the scar on his right arm as he relived the events of that awful night; his confrontation with his master. One of the things that haunted Crystal most about the murders he had committed that night was that he had never even known the child’s name. He had killed innocent people in the beginning of his. And he had never known his name. Letting out a long sigh, Crystal thought about the mob that had chased him into the forest after the werewolf serum. He remembered their angry shouts and their raised torches. Not that he blamed any of them for their reaction; he was, after all, a demon.
With a shake of his stony head Crystal pressed on as the trade route forked into two roads; one breaking away to the west, the other continuing on southward. Crystal took the southern road. It was at this time that he started thinking about his long journey across Arda. A journey that had been filled with tiresome days and restless nights. It had been a relief when he finally reached the coast. The tide pools and shallow waters offering him an abundance of shellfish and seaweed to fill his enormous stomach (which had been complaining of neglect all during his trek east). Near the shores he had stayed for weeks in a dark, secluded cave. There he had felt safe, hidden from the danger his imagination taunted him with constantly. But eventually, Crystal had realized that he was not being followed, that nobody was chasing him. That had led him to start wandering in his new surroundings and, weeks later, had led him to the many roads that ran along the coastline.
Finding a nice, shady tree nearby Crystal sat down and kept very still, his eyes on the road. After his first encounter with bandits on the eastern trade routes of Arda Crystal decided that it had become his duty to keep travelers safe from the threat of marauding thieves. And that was exactly what he had done today. As he was stumbling along the road that morning he had heard the shouts of nearby peasants being assaulted by a band of rogues who were intent upon taking whatever the travelers would surrender to them at sword-point, then they would probably have killed them and looted their bodies afterwards.? It had not taken much on Crystal’s part to scare the bandits away. No sooner had he stepped onto the road with his arms raised above his head and let out a rumbling howl than the entire party was running in barely controlled terror. Swords and parcels alike were dropped as two groups of screaming people hastened to safety.
A little, blue sparrow flew by and alighted on Crystals shoulder, so motionless had he remained. Turning very slowly Crystal extended his hand out near the bird’s feet. The sparrow chirped merrily and hopped into his palm. As he looked at the sparrow, and the sparrow looked back at him, he let out a soft sigh. Just once, Crystal thought, would it hurt somebody to say? Thank you??...
For the better part of the afternoon Crystal sat comfortably beneath the generous shade of the tree, his eyes seldom straying from the road. The sparrow kept him company for only a short while, singing him sweet, delightful birdsongs before flying off to do whatever it is that sparrows do with their time. Crystal had not seen a single traveler for the many long hours he had been sitting, but had resolved to wait a bit longer.
A light wind blew through the leafy boughs of the trees making their branches dance slowly to an unheard rhythm. Crystal smiled as he remembered the feel of the wind on his face and the breeze in his hair. There were many sensations that Crystal had previously taken for granted that he now sorely missed ever since he became a demon, he saw everything altered.
Another gust of wind, stronger than the last, washed against the treetops. Far in the distance, father than most eyes would be able to see, Crystal spotted dark, rolling clouds floating swiftly in his direction. A storm would break this night. But Crystal had weathered many storms and was not compelled to seek shelter. There were some benefits, then, to this monstrous form. Still, he could not help but wish to be his old self again. Crystal understood that he probably deserved this fate. And he did feel as though he was fulfilling an important role; thwarting thieves and protecting those who passed along the roads. But the fact that he terrified the oppressed as much as he did the oppressors was not lost on Crystal. He knew that, with this horrifying visage, he would never have another friend again.
The sun was slipping slowly down the eastern end of the sky. Crystal pulled his legs in close to his body and wrapped his arms around them. Lowering his head and resting his chin on his knees he watched the road, waiting.
As the dark clouds rolled in quietly, so did a human. A lone figure moved silently and slowly along the path set long ago by ancient builders. He didn't give a damn about the builders. It was hot and humid out, yet a strong wind blew through the area like a torrent of despair. It was not long ago he had seen a band of thieves who had jumped out behind a bunch of trees. He had beaten them with his bare hands and left them whimpering along their way to their home. At the present, however, Drake was moving towards a rather large tree with a huddled boy lying against it. Probably old of age, but with the appearance of a teen, he looked cold and lonely, staring out at the landscape. Or, perhaps, the trail? If so, he had seen Drake, who now walked straight towards him. Drake pulled his hood back, revealing that same apathetic look he always wore. His hair was just a bit messier than normal, and his eyes were weary, but he just didn't seem to care about the weather. He unraveled his cloak and took it off, holding it in his left hand, his naked katana in his right. He approached the demon kneeling by the tree with a look of apathy.