How would you react if the person you love so much, whom you cannot imagine being without, whose presence gives meaning to your life, who completes your missing half, simply… disappeared from your life, without caring how you… how would you feel…?
Barn thought, sitting on his feet, pulling a long sword from his waist and positioning it in front of his heart. The icy wind blew against him in the forest, whispering in his ears to give up and surrender to darkness. The leafless, fruitless trees resembled hands with thin fingers, ready to grab him at any moment, which didn't seem very frightening to him. He barely blinked, his gaze tired and dull, even though his eyes were like gold. Strands of his blood-colored hair swayed gently, covering half of his face. His scorpion-like tail tapped the ground slowly. The wide sleeves of his light green coat fell from his chest to the ground like a waterfall. He held the sword firmly against himself, pressing the sharp blade. With his hands on the hilt, he pushed it until it touched his clothing, piercing his heart and staining the dry grass with his crimson blood. The hot liquid dyed his white shirt red, running down his abdomen, staining his jeans and the sash at his waist. Strangely, this made him feel comforted. He closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing his body and enjoying the brief relief, knowing this was not the end.
He sifted through memories with that beloved person. Only good memories remained: they were always so sweet with their words, praising him when he did something right, understanding of his mistakes, stroking his hair, calling him "good boy." Even if they had left, that would never change, which was, in a way, comforting.
"You are a 'good boy,'" he whispered to himself, stroking his own head, when a scream interrupted him.
It came from relatively far away, but he could sense it was from a small body, perhaps frightened. Since it was nighttime, it would probably be food for a delta. That's not my problem, he thought, trying to focus on his memories. But something he could not ignore. I can sense… that which devours all, 1.5 km to my left…
He stood up, removed the sword from his chest, wiped off the blood with a swift motion, and ran toward the source. How dare these plagues hunt in my territory? he sighed, focusing on the sounds of souls ahead. Four souls just ahead, three pure, and two more to the left, only one pure… Something is wrong… I hear six distinct souls, but there is only energy for four…
Upon spotting one of the targets, he aimed at it, preparing to throw the sword and hit it precisely. He never missed this strike, but somehow, he did. Maybe he was too tired? It didn't matter; one of the targets had escaped, vanishing from his field of vision, and he could no longer sense it. He gasped, clutching his chest, felt his body heat up, lost balance, and almost fell on the leaf-covered ground. What is happening? Am I sick? Or is it something worse? Quickly recovering, he ran to catch the others before they escaped, sliding on the fallen leaves.
He observed three figures ahead. One was very small and stared at him, frightened. The other two, together, were taller, but smaller than him: a female figure and a male figure. He recognized them: representatives of the Trífylis and Triáda houses, who had lost their heir status to younger, reckless siblings, not his main concern.
"Trífylis and Triáda, huh… You know very well that you, deltas," he pointed at the girl, "cannot hunt in my family's territory, right? It would be a shame if I, Barn Skorpiós, told my grandfather what I witnessed here, causing trouble for you, wouldn't it? So, it's better for you two to leave… now!" he said, with an arrogant smile.
He watched them flee as fast as they could; it was fun to scare them.
He turned his attention to the young one in front of him, crouching to get closer to his height. So this is what I sensed… a semi-corrupted… Hard to believe a soul can have distinct sounds… His eyes gained orange streaks, moving hypnotically, while he observed the frightened boy, who, judging by the agitation in his soul and heavy breathing, recognized those eyes. Part of the boy's arm was raw, staining his clothes and the ground with blood; his ear had been cut by Barn's sword, which had missed the head by mistake. Barn removed the sword from the ground, noticing the wounds were not covered by a dark mark. Maybe he doesn't need to be killed. He cut his own palm and let his blood flow into the boy's wounds, healing them. He sheathed the sword and picked up the boy, pressing his face to his chest, feeling his body warmer than normal.
His eyes are back to normal… Will he…? Hm… so sleepy… thought the small one, falling into a deep sleep, curling up in Barn's arms.
After walking back and a little further, Barn arrived at the Skorpiós mansion. He needed to enter unnoticed. Luckily, he knew an effective way. Two black arms emerged from his torso, holding the boy. He crouched on his hands and feet, running through the entrance and attracting glances from passersby, who quickly returned to their tasks, seemingly accustomed. He climbed the stairs, passed through the corridors, almost bumping into someone once or twice. Upon seeing the bedroom door, he stopped abruptly, sliding on the cold porcelain floor. He opened the door quickly and closed it just as fast, relieved that no one had noticed he was carrying an intruder.
I hope no one noticed, so I can study him in peace! he thought, smiling, his body trembling with excitement. Looking closer at the room, he saw his sister standing in front of him, arms crossed. She had brown hair tied in two messy ponytails on the sides of her head, golden eyes, a tail like his but with a tip resembling a witch's hat, a moss-green blouse, gray sweatpants, a white lab coat with a badge, and black leather boots. At around 2.15 meters tall, she looked imposing.
"What is that… on your clothes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing! It's nothing! What are you doing here?" Barn replied, trying to hide his exaggerated reaction.
"Your father, Arkhem, asked me to tell you he expects you to stop bringing dependent young demons, with names, and under four cycles, because he cannot guarantee to spare you from punishment if it happens again."
"My father said that?" Barn asked, suspicious.
"He knows you wouldn't stop these… oddities even if he begged… like you're doing now. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" She pointed at what his arms were trying to hide.
Realizing he had been caught, Barn made a sheepish expression and placed the sleeping boy on the large bed.
"Can you… not tell him, please?" he asked, with a cute expression.
"You're independent, you know exactly what you're doing," she said, walking to the door and opening it to leave, but pausing. "If he asks, I'll tell him. Bye!" She slammed the door.
Barn ran to lock the door before another sister could appear. He took a deep breath, inhaling slowly, allowing himself to relax, at least for now. He turned back to the boy, arranging him on the bed and observing him more carefully now, in a well-lit environment.
The young one's clothing was simple: a white shirt and black shorts, in poor condition, without shoes. His short black hair was messy, with two small black horns on the sides of his head, pointed ears, and a thin tail with an inverted heart at the tip, gently tapping the sheets. Barn touched the boy's face, who was sleeping peacefully, and slid his hand under the shirt, feeling his heartbeat.
It's normal, not forced… He's warm… If he's alive, this must be his original body. As I suspected, corruption only tries to replace what's missing and would weaken the rest if it were complete. But if his body doesn't self-destruct, he won't need a new one, nor devour a pure soul. But how did he end up like this? Maybe I should ask him directly… tomorrow…
He stepped away from the boy to choose pajamas to sleep in. It was better to let him rest before starting the tests. He couldn't sleep in blood-stained clothes — not that the smell bothered him, on the contrary! But it would attract unwanted visitors.
Not this one, too simple… This one too masculine… This… pink with kittens… perfect! I'll give him a bath too; good thing I have clothes his size stored, he thought.
Barn began undressing in front of the mirror, revealing an uninjured body, though stained with blood. Some would consider his body perfect for a man. Something about that phrase bothered him deeply, perhaps the part about "perfect body"? He didn't feel "perfect," as they said. If only his shoulders were smaller, waist slimmer, hips wider, if he didn't have that "thing"! He covered the mirror with a cloth; no need to think about it, nor rush things. Everything takes time, after all. Everything would be fine. He took a deep breath, grabbed the necessary clothes, including the boy's, taking care not to wake him. He needed to focus on tomorrow! Maybe it would be a good day!