Tenth author’s journal 2A

Chapter 3: 3_Shivering truth


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Chapter 3: Heartfelt experience

Finishing those subordinates of the head angel, the demon cries out of relief that he is tortured and grants an animal execution to, now no more thank to my interference. He looks back at me and expresses such curiosity I have not seen before

“Little angel, what spell did you cast on them? Even as a demon I can’t see what kind of black magic you have used.”

“Oh I thought, it was common among you to use it. It’s…”

Before I can say more, the reinforcement has already arrived so he just grabs me and goes to the exit. He flutters his wyvern wings and they both of us soar on the night sky above. So this is the outside world, The air so cold that it causes me to tremble. He also senses my tremble as he lands down in the cave of a nearby mountain.

The silent cold covers the tense atmosphere between us, the angel army is rather tougher than they look even though their spells would hardly spear through either of our skin. The demon asks me for something, his gesture to be of some kindly than his look before “Little angel, what did you say again?”

The question before this ridiculous chase. The spell I used in the ancient book hell flame as it describes to brings agonizing pain to mortals. Was it not common enough or I may have surprised him by casting it when being the angel myself “What were you asking of me again, Mr.Demon?”

He is quite surprised by my demeanor. Is it because of my sudden change of attitude or it is usually the hint that the angel would change their contract? Either way, he would try to compose himself. “Mr?” he says while taking a breath out of the flame in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be respectful to the older person, Mr.Demon?” I ask while looking at him. After all, in my mind, most demons would be older than me as the original kind of demon and angel would be from thousands of years before. He looks like pure blood, to be honest.

He looks puzzled. The fact that I have said I am younger than him must change something in his view of me. “I am not that old, I am just 623 years old to the human calendar,” he explains.

The human calendar revolves around the time that dawn and dusk appear, somehow they decide to be 365 cycles of dusk and dawn to be a year. How interesting in their way of accounting time. But must they not the time pa switch the wrong placement for sun and moon? Errors such as eclipses must they choose to ignore debilitated. Anyhow he is less than 1000 years of human age must mean he is not the original kind of demon or their far descendants. I have no place to say because…  “Well, I am 200 years old to the human calendar, Mr.Demon,” I answer reluctantly

The silence continues after that statement of him. It seems that both of our views of other race is significantly wrong. The outside roar of winter seems to die down, which may mean the end of our contract will come to an end and we may part ways.  I hope that he may at least show me the way to the human land or better let me come alongside him. “…Since we know this long.” he opens

“A night and a day, Mr.Demon?” I recall. Of such the time we spend would be short and this may be our goodbye.

“No, I mean live past my execution” he laughs. The tension from before eased up a little.

“Oh…” I sigh. He continues to laugh at me. His wholeheartedly laugh differs from my “brothers and sisters” wicked ones. This time I feel a strange sense of relief rather than fear or sorrow. Is this mean to have “friends”?

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Tired from laughing, he coughs to regain his composure. “I haven’t known enough to bless with a name. Just call me by Blood Claw,” he says while reaching his hand out for me to shake.

“Mr. Blood Claw?” I ask while reaching back to shake.

“Drop the mister, please.” Blood Claw scoffs. Demons must have hated that kind of unnecessary formality. I may have to tune it down whenever I meet other demons.

“Well then, what were you asking of me, Blood Claw?” I ask him to refer to the previous question. If he may forget it, it would be better.

“What spell did you use, Mikhail?” he asks. Pulling the book from his magic space of his, he also brings the quill pen to record when he thought my magic to be something new. I doubt that any demon would find it hard to mimic what I have done previously, after all, it was at the front of the high spell. My name must he has heard from the head angel

“You call me by my name!” I say excitedly to hide my unwanted way of explaining the spell to him, he must take this very seriously and not respond to my façade.

“Well, I call yours and you call mine,” he says as if he sees through my façade. And here I thought he too is battle-hungry to notice my change of demeanor.

“It was “Infernium ignis”. It is a simple high dark spell,” I explain casually. His reaction is not something I would think up.

“A what? How would a 200 years angel do that?” he reacts quite violently. Something that bothers me is that he thinks it is an unfunny joke or this is something an angel must not have accomplished under normal circumstances.

“ I was studying by myself a lot.” I lie, knowing that something should not be like that. Resent my lessons as I may, most of them are essential to explain my unnatural growth if anyone could survive it.

“ No, what I meant is that how is some angel…no something learn it that quickly, my prince even struggles to learn in at least 500 years. Who exactly were you, Mikhail?” He explains. So he must be of some to the power of a demon earl or a normal retainer of some demon king.

“I was the 3rd archangel, the young prodigy.” After what I have said, he coughs violently “Archangel?”

The end

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