[Reminder: This story contains explicit sensual content, violence, mature themes, death, and references to trauma/abuse. This chapter references child abuse. Reader discretion is advised.]
"Damn it, Bazil," she muttered, giving him a hard kick. "You told me to believe you. To trust you. That you'll protect me.
The courtesans always told me growing up that you shouldn't trust a man's words alone, no matter how sincere he appears. I thought you were different.
But no, you're sleeping the night away. You're really just a dumb, good-for-nothing—"
The air swished around her as Bazil swung past and slipped his xira out.
"Don't mind me, Līa, keep going," Bazil glanced back. "It's a guardian's dream to be so highly praised by their ruler. Don't be stingy with your compliments now, all-mighty formidable Protector."
"Bazil," I said, wanting to grab him as he walked ahead, eyes locked on all sides.
The demons laughed alongside Phiri as they got closer.
"My Queen, don't worry. Do you remember what that bizarre man said about how bunnies don't hop for no reason? Did you ever figure out what the reason was?"
He darted forth and leapt, slashing down a set of them.
Others charged, and he treated his xira like a whip, swooping them from under their feet, his body swirling under as he evaded the grasp of others.
In a gap of a breath, he trailed down the gold markings on his black xira. A secret of all xiras was in what stood at the center.
A tiger's eye crystal framed with liquid gold and washed with the sacred water of the Wisher's Waterfall, believed to hold the joyful tears of Salazā's founders.
Legend has it that it is this that allows a zazi to seamlessly connect with their spiritual powers through ancestral guidance. But only if your heart is pure and seeks to guard the land of Salazā and its people.
What Salīa saw next stunned her. His essence illuminated his whole body, sparking a glow in his eyes.
In true zazi style, he shed his rigid movements and let his body dance in flow, the only rigid part of him being his countenance.
He moved almost as if boneless, bouncing and leaping through the air, only hardening himself as he slashed or countered. Yet none could get a hit in; his eyes closed as he dodged, swaying side to side as if a cobra.
To the naked eye, it seemed as if he were playing around with them. Yet as he swayed, he was actually choosing and marking his next prey with a lethal glance, and charged at their jugulars when they least expected it.
"Brother, get her!" Phiri yelled.
Mkango, or his demon, was still crouching, staring blankly at everything.
He then looked to Salīa, and she could feel the darkness of his spirit.
The demon switching back and forth with Phiri was already strong, but whoever entered Mkango was formidable.
"Who are you?"
The demon finally made an expression. A wicked smile.
"You offered to heal me," he stood up, sounding as boyish as Mkango. "Will you do it now?"
Salīa gulped as the boy took a step forth. She firmed her hands around her blade and peeked at Bazil. There were too many going at him for him to break out.
"Mkango, you need to expel the demon."
"But I'm Mkango, remember? Don't you want to heal me anymore?"
Her heart raced, picking up pace as he took another step.
"Why now?" Salīa cried, retreating further. "It's been so many years. Why are you demons back now? Mkango, snap out of it."
This demon cocked his head to the side.
"Some Protector you are, you keep stepping away from me. Do I scare you? Is it because I'm an outlander? I know you hate us."
She froze in place.
The demon smirked at this, watching her start to tremble. She wondered if this demon was the one she had met all those years ago.
"Be done with it," Phiri said. "Now!"
Bazil's head turned, having one renegade stab into his shoulder with a xira, while a demon-possessed one clawed into his side.
"Bazil!" she screamed.
He rebuffed them and slashed the row of them down, running to her.
Yet each step led to more he had to cut down. All while Phiri leaned against the boulder, overlooking. Yet Salīa could sense it was the demon watching.
"He keeps saying I must kill you," Mkango continued. "The soul that kills the Protector is cursed forever, but at least gets new life. But me, the demon, I'll burst into a thousand pieces and still live for thousands of years in agony until I evaporate."
The demon shook his head.
"But this boy cares for his brother, even if he doesn't want to hurt you.
Poor boy, that brother cares nothing for him at all. But that demon in him is like a brother to me as well, so I feel for this vessel. I do. We'll do anything to please them."
Mkango pulled out his claws and charged, but then retreated.
Salīa had reacted, having crouched, and pointed her dagger. The last thing she wanted to do was use it, but she knew she'd have to do something.
Think of something, Salīa. Of all the wisdom you half-ignored from the magi. Of all the endless anecdotes mother shared until you closed your ears. Of all the rumors of how the mighty Protector expelled demons.
Wait. Rumors. Demons.
Salazā hadn't revealed it yet, but you saw glimpses of her expelling them. But how?
"It's hopeless. You're still too weak. I almost feel sorry for you. This is the Protector that rivals our King? How pitiful. I'm sure he'd roll on the floor laughing if he saw how hopeless you look," the demon spat. "I know he wants to see you. But I agree with my brother. We'll have to say that for your next life, that is, if you get one."
With that, he jumped at her. She slid further back and ran. He launched his claws, his red eye slits as he hunted her.
While she wanted to be as smooth and agile as Bazil, and certainly had trained herself enough to have some skill, the fear was paralyzing.
She could only kick things at the demon to slow him down. But he broke right through.
Eventually, he caught up and punched her. She barely blocked it, only getting hit in the arm. Yet it felt like a fist of iron had just knocked her.
Bracing the pain, she countered the neck hit. Calming her heart, she dodged each of his attacks. But there were no hits she could get in with this laughing demon. Not that she wanted to.
Her mind was split between knowing he was a malicious spirit but also seeing the boy that he possessed.
A hand throttled her, and she gasped for breath. The demon smiled as she clawed at his arm. Somehow, this vessel, half her size, managed to choke her and lift her.
She saw Phiri's demon also smiling. Alongside other renegades and possessed renegades who paused just to enjoy the view.
Bazil's face drained at the sight, and he yelled as he ran through them and knocked them down even more relentlessly. Since he was less attuned, the others managed to rip and claw at him.
Yet he persisted, rushing to her.
She squeezed the demon's arm, trying to pry it away, yet this only urged the demon to squeeze her throat tighter.
A sudden dizziness filled her.
Think some more. Think about your teachings at the Faraway Forests. Come on, anything will do. Even if it's from that wordless, lazy Magi On, who always slept during sparring sessions.
Or even if it's from that perverse book you discovered in Magi Rai's library. Actually…there was that one story in it where the girl expelled a demon. How did she do it again?
Oh, yes.
She had no breath to draw from, and her body went numb. But she still closed her eyes, relaxing.
It was certainly tricky to pull into a transcendental state of meditation, though she did it. And when her eyes opened, they locked onto the demon's, not a trace of fear.
She touched the demon again, but not to fight. Her hands held his face, near his temples, and she asked, "What chains you?"
All the memories flooded her of the boy. She felt all his pain and suffering ball together and stir deep within his heart like an anchor.
All the starving he endured being an orphan in the outlands, then the joy he felt when his older sister found him after years of separation.
And contentment when he finally lived in Salazā with her, and the uncertainty when Phiri began to court her and live with them.
The horror when his sister was dead and how numb he felt when Phiri claimed it was a zazi who hated outlanders, yet Mkango was always dubious.
Fearing abandonment, he clung to Phiri, who became a zazi, saying he'd get revenge. Mkango didn't want that; he hated fighting and just wanted it to stop.
Even more so, he hated how Phiri and his friends, who met in the shadows, would smoke. He felt unwell when he started getting sick from it. Hopeful was what he felt when Phiri told him he had found good medicine and that he must take it all to get better.
He never really felt well, but at least got happy when he met his new friend, Nyau, who reminded him of his sister.
It all swirled in ups and downs from when Phiri and his friends would pick on them to the beatings he'd get and the relentless coughing he took on.
Never certain about the pills but wanting to trust his new brother.
But feeling unwell and seeing strange looks in Phiri's eyes and those of his friends, the more they smoked and drank that snake venom juice.
His last memories trembled violently, blending in a pace as fast as his terrified heart right until he was possessed.
Salīa pushed deeper, willing herself to enter this demon's mind. And she got a glimpse, sensing his gloom, before he tugged at her, trying to pull back.
She smiled now, her throat free, and took a deep breath before pressing into his temples, feeling her eyes light with gold and gazing deep.
The smokey spirit fought and fought, but Salīa's strength had reunited with her. She breathed her essence into the vessel and wrestled this demonic force out of its grasp.
"I must kill you!" the demon persisted. "Or else the King will—"
The smoke dissipated instantly. And Mkango fell.
Salīa dropped and pulled the boy to her chest, trying to let her healing essence go through. His spirit had waned so much that she barely felt it.
"Come on, Mkango," she begged. "Please."
He breathed faintly, looking at her with a half-smile.
"It's you. Nyau said you were the Protector. I made a bet and said you were wrong. But she's always right." He heaved in breath, his eyes lowering. "I hated my name. But I don't mind it anymore. So, thank you."
"Stay awake. Come on, don't you want to see Nyau?"
A soft smile spread across his face.
"Oh, yes, Nyau."
Salīa pooled all her essence and hugged him to her chest. She felt her breath knocked out of her as the tip of a clawed hand reached her chest.
Driven right through the heart of the boy.
X