A Tale Of Serpents

Fyn.

Fyn lost track of time as he stared at the demon. He likely stared for so long that the demon eventually grew tired and left while he continued to stare in disbelief.

His cheeks felt hot, and he knew his face must have turned bright red like a tomato. Had the demon actually brought him something to eat? Surely not.

Still, if the demon didn't eat fruits, why would he get a wide variation of them? Did the demon usually feed his captives before killing them? Nothing made sense.

After a long pause, Fyn blinked and glanced in the direction where the demon had gone. As he walked through the cave system, the sound of the demon's flapping wings echoed loudly in the darkness. The demon might still be near. Fyn took a deep breath, returned the fruit to the rucksack, and put the bag against a wall. He secured the item and ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath before cautiously approaching the demon. As he neared, his heart raced, and his senses heightened, alert for any sign of danger.

Was there another demon in Gashea that he wasn't aware of?

Shielding his eyes with his hand, Fyn approached the cave exit, the bright light outside temporarily blinding him. Instinctively, he took a step back. Feeling relieved that there was no immediate danger, he continued his walk. The gentle breeze brushed against his skin, and birds singing in the distance filled his ears.

As he emerged from the dark cave, his eyes were drawn to the billowing clouds above. His feet moved of their own accord, carrying him forward without conscious thought. The ground beneath him felt solid and steady, each step sending a jolt through his body. Despite his lack of control over his movement, he felt a sense of peace and calm.

Has the demon flown away?

Fyn kept his hand over his forehead to shield his eyes from the sunlight while he gazed up at the sky, keeping one eye shut. The clouds appeared closer than he anticipated, indicating they were likely at a higher altitude in the mountains. The villagers had never been able to reach the mountains located within the Gashea forest.

Fyn was lost in thought when a strong arm wrapped around his waist without warning, causing him to tense up in surprise. The pressure of the grip was firm but not aggressive, leaving him unsure of the intentions behind the sudden embrace.

Then he was pulled flush against a warm chest.

Fyn's body was frozen, and a warm blush spread across his cheeks. He felt his heart pounding against his chest after being suddenly touched. As far back as he could remember, the village had always felt distant to him.

In just a few hours, the demon's presence enveloped him in a way that no villager had ever managed to do. The sensation of closeness and interaction was overwhelming, filling his senses with an intensity he had never experienced.

He felt someone's warm breath near his ear.

The demon growled deeply, "I offered you kindness, but do you truly wish to die? Your behavior is insufferable, Mortal."

"What?" Fyn was surprised that he had enough energy to even speak. The demon's voice was already deep, even when he was just a few feet away. Now that he was behind him, speaking directly to his ear, the voice had turned octaves deeper. It made the hairs on the back of Fyn's neck rise up dramatically. A pleasant sensation of excitement ran down his spine. Frowning, he shook his head. Fyn spoke quietly, "I... was looking for you."

Surprise flickered across the demon's features, its tone betraying disbelief.

"Why?"

"To apologize."

The arm around his waist tightened inexplicably. Fyn didn't know whether or not it would be wise to run away. He felt paralyzed, his eyes fixed on the powerful arm that kept him in place. Much like a regular human, the demon's arm had bulging veins. The only difference was he seemed warmer than an ordinary man.

With how high up they were in the mountain, the wind had turned cold, and Fyn found himself nuzzling into the arm, finding comfort in its warmth.

The demon spoke from behind him.

"I have no need for useless words."

Fyn felt the demon's movement and realized it still had its arm around him. Fyn was confused and turned around but was met with the sight of the demon's chest. Although the rational part of his brain advised him to ignore the demon, his gaze was fixated on it. He remained focused on the demon's chest, observing the intersecting scars without speaking.

Before he knew it, his free hand was moving, and his fingertips were grazing the scars.

Suddenly, the demon's movements came to a halt.

"Mortal," It hissed, "Remove your hand."

Fyn didn't. With a determined expression, he bravely ran his hand over the demon's chest. Fyn once thought demons possessed a supernatural ability to heal and maintain flawless skin. He was mistaken. The arm tightly coiled around his waist got tighter as the demon sharply inhaled.

A growl rumbled from the demon's throat as its tail coiled around Fyn's wrist, halting his hand's movement toward its chest. Fyn couldn't help but feel the smooth scales of the tail against his skin.

Fyn's eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to confirm what he was seeing.

His hand was now tightly gripped by the demon's tail.

"Do you really have a death wish, Mortal?"

Fyn's eyes lifted upwards and fixated on the demon before him, shooting it a sharp, disapproving look. The demon's eyes seemed to gleam in a deeper shade of red. Fyn felt a sudden surge of anger and snapped at the demon before him with all his strength.

"You keep saying that, but all I did was look for you!"

A sense of surprise washed over the demon.

"Were you not planning on jumping?"

Fyn frowned, "Jump? From where-"

Fyn's words died in his throat. He swiveled his head automatically to where he once stood. Goosebumps ran along his arm once he saw just where he once was.

He had been busy gazing at the clouds and wanted to slap himself for even missing it. There is a massive cliff located outside of the demon's cave. And a waterfall was located directly beneath it.

A waterfall whose mouth was directly behind Fyn's hut.

"The brides," Fyn felt his heart race as he whispered to himself, his mind quickly realizing what was happening. "They all fell to their death."

The cold wind whipped against Fyn's face as the demon dragged them away from the cliff's edge. Despite Fyn's mumbling, the demon remained silent, its grip unyielding. After ensuring that Fyn was in a safe position, the demon turned around. The demon extended its wings, crouched down, and prepared to soar.

Except it didn't get to do that.

Fyn's hand shot out and closed around the demon's elbow, halting its motion. The demon stiffened as he was held but reluctantly turned to face Fyn.

Fyn spoke before it could open its mouth.

"You're no murderer."

"I am," The demon insisted, turning around to meet Fyn's gaze. The demon's face betrayed no emotion, and its eyes seemed distant and analytical, taking in its surroundings with a detached curiosity. Shrugging its shoulders, Fyn noticed its tail not wagging anymore. It lay limply behind him. "Thousands of mortal blood is in my hands."

Fyn could feel the weight of the demon's words bearing down on him, but he chose to ignore them. "The brides... You didn't kill them. They fell."

"I didn't warn them about this either." The demon muttered, its face growing bored. "Let go of me now, insufferable mortal. I need to get going and won't tolerate any more delays."

Fyn maintained a firm grip on him.

"You didn't kill them."

"What difference does it make?" The demon let out an ominous chuckle and twisted its face into a terrifying and repulsive expression. Fyn was taken aback when the demon forcefully shook his hand away. The demon inched closer, its sharp claws glinting in the light as it lifted Fyn's chin. A sly smirk played on its lips. "Murderer, not a murderer. Does that make a difference to you, mortal? With all the hate your species does to things they do not understand, whether I killed those women means little. Just the mere sight of me and mortals like you wish for my imminent death."

Fyn felt his mouth open, ready to defend himself and humanity, but the demon cut him off before he could speak. It grasped his chin tight, its long sharp nails digging into his skin enough to draw blood. "Do not say it is not the truth, mortal. Did you not just attempt to murder me on sight moments ago? Even after the kindness I did?"

"That was different," Fyn whispered, his eyes softening. "I was afraid."

Fyn felt himself being released by the demon, and as he looked up at its face, he thought he saw a hint of apology in its expression.

"I do not wish to be the bearer of bad news, but I wish to inform you that you fear the wrong thing."

Suddenly, the demon spread its wings and took flight in an instant. Leaving behind a strong gust of wind almost caused Fyn to lose his balance. He could feel the force of the wind pushing against his body, making it difficult for him to stay upright. Fyn steadied himself, grateful that he didn't fall. Fyn looked up and saw the demon flying through the sky. The sound of its wings echoed across the forest of Gashea.

"The master is often misunderstood."

Fyn felt a startle run through his body as a smooth, silky voice suddenly broke the silence. He scanned his surroundings, his eyes darting from rock to tree in search of the origin of the mysterious voice. Yet, no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't spot anyone or anything that could have spoken.

He was high up in the mountain, after all. Fyn knew that only one demon lurked in the forest's depths, its presence felt by the rustling of leaves and the eerie silence that followed its passing.

Had he been wrong? Was there more than one?

"Please, understand him." The voice said again.

Fyn's heart raced as he felt his foot slip on loose gravel, causing him to take a quick step back. The wind whipped around him, carrying the scent of saltwater and the sound of crashing waves up to where he stood on the cliff's edge. He couldn't shake the panic that gripped him, knowing that one wrong move could send him tumbling down to the rocky shore below.

While alive and well, Fyn did not want the villagers to offer another bride to the demon. He would, at the very least, assist in saving innocent lives.

"I am down here, mortal."

Blinking in surprise, Fyn looked down.

Something brushed along his ankle. By his feet was a white scaly snake.

The snake's eyes observed its surroundings, taking in every detail with a sharp and perceptive gaze. From a safe distance, Fyn crouched down and pointed to his chest, the gesture catching the snake's attention. "Are you... talking to me?"

"There is no one else here," The smooth voice said again. Fyn realized the voice was actually inside his head. The snake was speaking to him telepathically. Things have gotten even stranger. "I am talking to you, mortal."

Fyn couldn't believe what he saw and hugged his knees to his chest. "A talking snake."

"That is right," The snake's voice echoed inside his mind again. "You do not seem surprised."

"I'm captured by a demon," Fyn pointed out. "Nothing is more surprising than that."

The snake slithered close to him, stopping just a few steps away. Powered by bravery, Fyn moves his arm near the snake, and it slithers and rolls around his elbow up towards his shoulders. The snake's voice echoes through his mind again, its eyes holding a glimmer of intelligence. "You are not captured by the master, and you have the freedom to leave as you wish."

"You mean he wouldn't kill me?"

"He would not touch you, much like he refrained from touching the others."

Fyn nodded, feeling the weight of the acknowledgment settle in his chest. Everything was quiet except for the sound of his own breathing.

"The brides."

"The women," The snake said again, "For some reason, they fear the master. The women left the safety of the master's cave before they could receive any food from the master. They fell to their deaths before the master could stop them from doing so."

Upon hearing the news, Fyn felt a sudden chill, and his palms become sweaty. He already knew that the demon was not a murderer. Having another being, even if it was a magical snake, repeat it made everything more discernible.

There was no murderous demon wandering around the trees in the Gashea forest. However, he was responsible for causing famine, drought, and disease. He was no saint.

"Who are you?" Fyn asked instead, changing the subject.

The snake lowered its head slightly as if giving a bow.

"The name is Havu. What about you, mortal?"

"My name is Fyn," The overpowering urge of curiosity consumed Fyn, and he succumbed to it, unable to resist its pull. "Your... master, what's the demon's name?"

Fyn heard the snake's voice resounding in his mind.

"The master's name is Kavan."