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[Fiction] Wakinyan - Demon


Jager

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Wakinyan sat up on the hill and watched the townspeople drive the demon from their midst. He looked to the outside world like another rock outcropping, the wind blowing his feathers looked like grass poking forth from the ancient rock. He sat and observed.

The townspeople through bottles, brandished firearms, and one intrepid member even had a blowtorch. Primarily, they threw threats and insults. A few, the one’s hanging in the back, cried at the tragedy of having a child-turned-demon. The rest masked their confusion and fear with hate. One townie came up and prodded the demon along with a snow shovel and the demon staggered away. It was clear to Wakinyan that the demon wasn’t physically harmed, but the pain and fear on its face was evident. His world … it was a him, had turned upside down. One minute, he had been one of them and in a moment of crisis, he had become exulted … only to be damned by his node.

He was a demon. Fear, envy, hate, and despair made flesh, this demon was marked as a clear threat to the community and it had to be banished. Wakinyan pitied it. If it couldn’t find a way to adjust (a few found ways to be flesh-shifters), it would live in exile and isolation, or be hunted down by others such as himself. It couldn’t be allowed to live among normal people. Its presence was natural disruptive. Its powers would be a source of envy, its form a focus of division. Humanity had learned its lesson and things like the demon could not live amongst them.

Wakinyan had seen enough. The demon had learned its lesson. It was no longer a part of them. It could wander with Wakinyan for a time, if the majestic griffon was in the mood. It could attempt to find others of its kind, or it could begin to learn to use its gifts in isolation, far away from its old life and civilization. Wakinyan’s wings flared out as he stood. His cry shattered the skies and lightning flashed across a clear sky. The elegant beast took flight and the crowd cowered back in awe. Once … twice … the powerful nova circled the mob and the demon before landing between the two.

His eyes scanned the crowd and he felt their gazes turn away and downward. He was here, amongst them, and they knew better than to challenge his presence. He saw a few glances of relief and vindication amongst the eyes as well. Their part in this drama was over. Slowly, they began to move back to their town limits and left the demon to the nova.

Wakinyan turned and looked at the demon’s face. It looked young. It also looked confused, hurt, and traumatized.

“You need to be moving along,” Wakinyan boomed. Best to get the dominate position established here at the start.

“I … I don’t know were to go,” gasped out the demon. “What happens to me now? What’s happened to me?”

Wakinyan looked the demon over and sighed.

“Come along. I’ll tell you how it is, but we need to move away from here.”

He began loping slowly down the dirt road and the demon followed.

“This is how it is. It’s not fair. It’s the way it is.”

The demon nodded. It was clear to Wakinyan that the demon still held to his ingrained pattern of trusting novas when you were lucky enough to meet them.

“When novas erupt, we grasp onto our Primal selves and become something greater than ourselves. We become icons, legends, and symbols that reach beyond words and to into the realm of vibrant concepts and ideals made flesh.”

Again, the demon nodded.

“Demons on the other hand do not. They remain human-looking though we both know you are not human. You remind humanity of the power inherent in being god-like, but with human feelings and failings. They knew these weaknesses and history has taught us that you and your kind are still afflicted with these failings. Given a chance you will prey upon humanity, bending and warping them to your will.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” blurted out the demon. “I just wanted to remain home until I figured out what’s happened to me.”

“They can’t take the chance. Hell, we novas can’t take the chance. We can’t be constantly cleaning up you demons’ messes. It wastes our time and makes me very angry.”

Wakinyan let a roving eye fix the demon so that he understood how bad betting the griffon mad would be. The demon nodded in a vague way. The long road of isolation lying ahead of it was beginning to set in.

“What happens now?”

“Well,” Wakinyan began, “we will start by teaching you to live off the land. You will develop quite an appetite.”

Wakinyan did pity the demon. As a human, he was handsome enough, but he wasn’t a human. He wasn’t lucky like Wakinyan or the other novas. He was cursed with the human form and all the weaknesses that it brought out in humanity. Wakinyan could walk amongst them, but no human would confuse its potential with the majestic legend standing before it. There could be no confusion. He, Wakinyan, was a nova. They were not. It was better when things were clear that way.

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