The Windfallen Village (2)

In the middle of the vast expanse of the western continent, eight 100-foot towers serving watch pierce the heavens, their lofty peaks nearly scraping the clouds. Each were bound to a 30-foot wall imbued with mystical defensive properties akin to an impenetrable shield.

As if anticipating the ravages of modern warfare, this majestic stronghold boasts a sphere of defense that deftly thwarts all manner of physical and magical assaults, rendering any would-be invader powerless. And yet, its defenses do not stop there, for from without, the fortress is imbued with a cloak of invisibility, making it extremely impossible to locate despite its state-of-the-art preparations for battle.

The vicinity, guarded by fearsome demon warriors standing over six feet tall, exudes an air of ominous foreboding. Each of the guardians clutches a spear whose deadly spearhead glints with menacing intent. One shudders at the mere thought of being impaled by such a weapon. It would undoubtedly render one's entrails spilled on the ground.

Adorned at the rear of the demon warriors is a striking black bow, its contours sharply defined and unmistakably a masterpiece. So intricately crafted that anyone who beholds it cannot help but marvel at its beauty. Every strand of its string visibly twisted, requiring prodigious strength from its wielder to draw back its taut cords.

This sprawling fortress [1] serves as the main bastion of the great demon horde, boasting a vast expanse of land capable of accommodating legions of elite demon warriors. Dominating the landscape is an imposing eight-story hall, a testament to the grandeur of the Demon Lord who reigns from within.

Before the commanding presence of the Demon Lord, the Supreme Demon Commander kneels in solemn obeisance. For what seems like an eternity, he maintains this posture, as the Demon Lord silently pores over a report detailing the recent events in the Misty Forest.

Every moment hangs heavy with anticipation, the Supreme Demon Commander braced himself for the worst, knowing full well that his very existence hung in the balance. A stern warning had been issued - failure in the mission would mean his eradication from the face of the planet. And yet, despite the commander's best efforts, the operation proved to be a catastrophic disaster.

A staggering ten thousand elite demons were mercilessly annihilated by none other than the butler of the vaunted Celestial Mage Clan. Though he was but a lowly servant, his talents proved to be more than a match for even the most skilled Commanders of the demon horde. Still, despite the circumstances, the Demon Lord would not be swayed from passing judgment, his silent rebuke echoing in the damning report held tightly in his grasp.

Inside the Great Demon Hall, the 12 council high demons were arranged in pairs of six on either side of the Demon Lord's seat. The Demon Lord rose from his seat, his eyes blazing with hatred, but he quickly regained his composure and called out, "Aserion."

Aserion was a mysterious demon with a resemblance to a dark elf, carrying two short swords at his waist and clad in armor that revealed his lean and muscular physique, much like that of a black panther.

Upon the Demon Lord's command, Aserion rose from his council seat and knelt before him, saying, "Yes, Lord."

The Demon Lord spoke in a calm voice "behead him".

Wooshhh!!

Aserion vanished from his spot, appearing behind the Supreme Commander followed by a sound of a sword being sheathed back from its scabbard.

In just a few breaths, the Commander's head rolled to the ground. Blood spilling from where the head used to be attached to.

In the midst of their council seats, the other formidable demons were struck with a paralyzing chill as they beheld Aserion's lightning-fast execution. His movements were so swift that they were unable to keep up, as he deftly severed the head of the Supreme Commander with unparalleled precision. The scene left the council in a state of awe and terror, as they witnessed the sheer power and agility of Aserion in action.

Although they had been appointed personally by the Demon Lord himself for their contributions and strength, some among them could not help but question their own strength in comparison to Aserion's.

The events that had just transpired were a testament to the fact that the current Demon Lord was not like any of his predecessors. Unlike the violent Demon Lords of the past, the current ruler of the demon realm was highly calculated and strategic, as evidenced by his groundbreaking feat of destroying the Celestial Mage Clan - a remarkable achievement that spoke volumes about his capabilities.

The times had changed, and the Demon Lord had changed with them, ushering in a new era of demon rule characterized by cunning and skill, rather than brute force.

Aserion responded, "It is done, My Lord".

The Demon Lord standing tall spoke in a very commanding voice "Let this serve as a warning, I hope I made myself clear today."

Everyone in the Demon Hall, knelt and responded, "Yes, My Lord".

The Demon Lord walked out of the Great Hall and disappeared from everyone's sight.

************************************

Windfallen Village.

At the break of dawn, the Anaheim family stirred from their slumber. Margaret, the eldest, cast a gaze of wonderment towards Grey, who lay staring at the ceiling inquisitively. Grey released a soft, angelic laugh upon meeting Margaret's eyes. Her heart swelled with joy, realizing that Grey had already become her brother in every way after the events of the previous night.

Assuming her role as the eldest, Margaret promptly rose to awaken Mary and Joseph for breakfast. Mary, before heading downstairs tended to both Devon and Grey, after the two infant having their fill of breakfast from Mary's voluptuous bosom, she placed placed both of them in the crib and headed on harvesting fresh green vegetables and potatoes from the yard. With the ingredients in hand, Mary called upon Margaret to assist her in preparing the table.

"Arrange the table while I cook," Mary instructed to which Margaret replied in a voice that echoed her childlike innocence.

"Yes, mother. But what about, Grey? We only have three plates and spoons."

"Do not fret, dear. Grey just had his breakfast earlier," Mary explained.

Mary's reassuring response put Margaret's mind at ease. Satisfied with her mother's explanation, Margaret set about preparing the table, her heart swelling with pride and joy as she marveled at the growth of their loving family.

A quarter of an hour ticked by, Joseph stirred from his slumber. His first instinct was to check on the abandoned baby they had rescued the last night, Grey. He immediately touched Grey's forehead to check on his state, Joseph was taken back by the normalcy of Grey's temperature, as fever at such a young age was typically a two-to-three-day ordeal.

Joseph was lost in his own thoughts while gazing upon Grey, he found himself pondering at the infant's origins. In his head, he already began considering the nearby noble families and royalty, attempting to discern if Grey fit in any of the descriptions of being a noble's or royalty's bastard. But as quickly as the thoughts had come, Joseph admonished himself for such overthinking.

"What was I thinking? I must not dwell on such trivial things", Joseph scolded himself.

Recognizing that their meeting with Grey was no mere coincidence, but rather a deliberate plan of the gods themselves.

"I may not have the wealth of a noble or the strength of a warrior, but I can provide you with a home full of love and warmth, my little one."

Joseph vowed to Grey, feeling his heart swell with a newfound sense of purpose.

The sound of scuffling from upstairs caught Mary's attention as she worked away in the kitchen. A smile graced her lips as she called out to her daughter Margaret.

"Would you call on your father and tell him that breakfast is served?"

Without hesitation, Margaret answered her mother's request with a warm and respectful, "Of course, mother."

She quickly made her way upstairs to inform Joseph, "Father, let's eat downstairs. Mother is waiting for all of us"

"Ha ha ha, this little girl is so responsible!" his father replied into which drew some blush over Margaret's cheeks.

Joseph reached out for Margaret's hand and they walked downstairs happily.

When reaching the dining table, Joseph spoke, "Dear, today's a busy day, a noble visited the local guild branch requesting for 5 stalks of the Purple Haze flower yesterday. We all know that it is extremely difficult to find one nowadays so I might come home a little bit late."

A look of concern crossed Mary's face, for she was all too aware of the dangers involved in searching for the elusive Purple Haze Flower. This rare flower could only be found in the most frigid of locations, often clinging perilously to the sides of cliffs.

"Be extremely cautious, dear," Mary warned with a note of urgency in her voice. "Remember, it is perfectly acceptable to fail in this request. Our livelihood does not depend on it. We can always live on the bountiful vegetables that grow in our yard."

Her words were imbued with a sense of reassurance, a reminder that their family's survival did not rest solely on the success of this mission.

As the morning light streamed through the window, Joseph savored his breakfast before ascending the staircase to check on his beloved offspring, Devon and Grey.

Upon laying eyes on the pair nestled in the same crib, he couldn't help but ponder whether the limited space might prove insufficient for their growing frames.

With a father's innate foresight, Joseph resolved to create a second crib for his cherished Grey when he returns from his work.

At the stroke of the quarter of the day, Joseph bid farewell and embarked on his day's labor. His first stop was the adventurer's guild, where he eagerly procured a request notice and presented it to the front desk reception. Once his name was duly inscribed on the notice, Joseph wasted no time and set off into the mountains in search of the elusive purple haze flower.

Meanwhile, back at home, Margaret and Devon amused themselves in the front yard by arranging stones into intricate edifices, while Mary lovingly cradled Grey on the porch. As the day wore on, they whiled away the hours in blissful contentment.

But as the sun began its descent towards the horizon, a curious neighbor named Shana passed by and cast an incredulous gaze upon Mary and Grey.

"Pray tell, my dear, when did you become pregnant again?"

Mary rose from her seat and advanced towards Shana with a determined expression etched upon her features.

"Hush now!!" she cautioned in a firm yet measured tone.

"Last night, this poor little one was abandoned in our rooftop. I don't want Margaret nor Devon knowing that Grey is not their own blood"

Her words conveyed a sense of fierce protectiveness that left no doubt as to her resolve in shielding her family from any potential harm in which Shana quickly picked up.

"You named the child, Grey?", Shana replied.

"Yes, it was Joseph who decided it. Please keep this a secret. We both decided to raise this child and treat it as our own", Mary responded.

"I do understand," replied Shana, her voice hushed in reverence, "May the very gods themselves smite me with bolts of lightning if I betray your confidence."

She spoke with an air of deference that bespoke the gravity of the situation at hand.

"I still have something else to tell you", Shana spoke quietly.

With a palpable sense of intrigue, Mary leaned in to listen to what Shana had to say.

"I have news from the caravan of traders and nobles that passed through these parts yesterday,"

Shana began, her voice low and conspiratorial.

"It would not harm if Joseph exercise extra caution in his duties, there was a disruption yesterday in the Misty Forest, some people say that the ground had trembled, while others say that there was a stampede of beasts."

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow of unease over Mary's countenance.

"Your words are much appreciated, Shana," replied Mary with a gracious nod.

"I shall make sure to relay the news to Joseph once he returns home today."

Shana returned the nod in acknowledgement, her eyes lingering on little Grey for a moment longer.

"Very well, I must be on my way," she said finally, casting one last affectionate glance at the child.

"Farewell, and take good care of this precious little one."

The gravity of the moment was not lost on either woman, and as Shana made her way down the street, Mary couldn't help but feel a sense of eeriness.