September 21, 2010

• Part II: Erov Seeks a Demon

  

  Upon waking, Erov found himself refreshed and ready in body and spirit to conquer any foul creature he might stumble across. As he continued along until the sun was at the peak of the sky before he met a fairy that was sitting upon a dandelion near the trail’s edge. She was tiny, her skin was carnation pink and her eyes solid black and large, and she wore a small dress made of daisy petals. Her hair was long and silver and flowed like corn silk over her delicate shoulders, and she smiled up at him without fear of his largeness, completely unconcerned at her littleness.

  “Son of man!” she said in a voice like birdsong, “Is it true that you seek a demon?”

  “It is true, little fey,” he replied, squatting down to peer more closely at the beautiful creature, “Do you know of one nearby?”

  “I know many things, and this does happen to be one of them!” the fairy exclaimed, flying up to his face with a deep buzzing hum as her gossamer wings became a blur, “Oh yes indeed! Follow the stream and then the bones to his cave; the stench will guide you the rest of the way!”

  Erov’s heart raced as he leapt into the nearby stream, causing a great explosion of diamondine droplets with every footfall. Birds fled from the noise and deer leapt into deeper brush for fear of some mad creature. Soon enough the son of man came to a barren bank littered with bones of various kinds. Here and there a set of antlers reached toward him, or a ribcage blossomed in a sickly way, or a skull grinned maniacally. The sight chilled him, but it did not frost his courage in the least. Dripping with water, chest heaving, Erov left the stream and began walking up the trail of death, gnawed and cracked bones writing with worms and swarming with flies, until it ended and all that remained to follow was the stench of decay that brought him to the mouth of a dark cave. It was a dreadful sight, gaping wide like a toothless mouth waiting to swallow him in a single, cold gulp and send him tumbling through the dark into the bowels of the earth.          

  Long did Erov pass through the black and stench before he came to a large cavern filled with the red light of a great fire, its smoke rising into a vast crack in the vault high above. At the far end was a crude wooden throne adorned with bones and skins, upon which sat a creature of darkness with glistening black eyes. It looked man enough save for its complete achromaticity, its coarse long hair greased and matted, and the manner in which its skin seemed to peel in many places, curling away in oily flecks and flakes. It grinned, showing teeth that shone like obsidian.

  “Who dares enter the heart of this cave while the master is present?” the demon seemed to exhale.

  Mustering all his courage about him, Erov puffed up his chest and declared, “It is I, Erov son of man. I have come to claim victory over you!”

  The demon laughed in a manner resembling a belching cough and then rose to its feet in one fluid motion, rising a head again above brave Erov.

  “You seem very sure of your strength, Man-child. Tell me, then: how do you intend to defeat me?”

  “It is love by which I come, and love by which I will put your back to the ground!”

  “Well,” hissed the demon, “we shall see, Boldling. Many a champion, whether by love or hate, has come here only to meet their doom. Only One has e’er defeated me, and it is He Who placed me here upon the earth and sundered me from Heaven’s height. Yet you seek to bring me even lower?”

  Erov said nothing and stared deep into the demon’s eyes and saw nothing but the reflection of his own determined but clearly fearful face, as though reflected in a pool of oil.. Then it was that he engaged the demon in a great show of strength, and the two grappled with one another for hours and hours. Much to Erov’s dismay, however, it seemed that the harder Erov strove for the victory, the stronger the demon became! Soon Erov was pinned to the ground, the demon’s foul arm around his neck and twilight began to descend upon his vision.

  “Concede!” the beast breathed in his face, tightening his hold.

  “Never!” Erov croaked, struggling with what remained of his strength.

  “Concede!” the demon roared into his ear, pressing Erov’s face into the dust. Erov shook his head weakly, unable to speak, and the demon began to sink its claws into his back.

  “Concede…” the creature hissed menacingly. Erov began to weep, knowing that he had failed and that he would surely be slain if he did not obey the demon.

  “You have the victory,” Erov said with the last of his strength.

  The demon vanished with a harsh chuckle, and poor Erov left the cave in the hope that perhaps finding the Bitter Cup will strengthen him enough for a second match. Surely this would be so! he thought. With a new determination he wandered a great portion of the land known to him, searching for the Bitter Cup from which he would drink his victory.

   

  • 3:22 pm
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