Year 475 A.F.W.
The snow stopped falling an hour or so ago, and the sun shone over the town of Mistwick.
"Alright...!" a boy repeated, scribbling something on beige paper. He sat against one of the houses built into the thick-wooded trees and smiled, almost slyly.
Amidst the mutters, he turned to a bird sitting on one of the tree branches. It chirped out as his eyes widened. Soon, signalling with his hands, another grin followed with a glance at the sheets.
"Yes..." he stood up. "Yes! I GOT IT!" he yelled out, as a morian banged on the window, yelling for him to be quiet.
It wasn't a success, however. In awe, the boy ran through town. He accidentally bumped into a man who carried a barrel of food on his back, causing him to trip and fall. He passed a bigger house, as people shut their windows and others spilt their glaska (a mix of tea and cocoa) drinks.
Some smiled at his reactions; others were annoyed, but he didn't cause any harm. He jumped frivolously, as others walked into their houses or sighed.
"The r-rewards of the soil of the last Dear." Another boy sat in the snow and slowly inched closer to a red, blooming flower. He ground his teeth, fixing his glasses, holding onto what resembled a journal.
With another huff, he moved back, raising both fists. "Eureka! This is one of the only flowers that peaks in Yule!" he stood up, smiling, putting his hands up. "Another win for-"
"ME!" The other boy ran into him, causing the two to collapse on the ground. The one in the glasses coughed as he looked back at the flower, which they barely missed.
"Jyuzou!" The white-haired one yelled out.
"Morio!" Jyuzou raised his voice, crawling away. "You could've killed that flower!"
Morio stood up, scratching the top of his head. "Sorry, sorry!"
"No, I don't think you understand Shimori's natural treasure, the Callothia flowers, beautiful red crowns that grow even in the coldest of nights!" he wagged his finger.
"Yeah, whatever!" Morio signalled, flailing the piece of paper in his hands. "I finished it!"
"Finished what exactly?" Jyuzou turned, breathing out loudly. "The story you started seasons ago and never touched again?"
Morio didn't answer, however, since he had already jolted without an answer. Jyuzou fixed his glasses, rolling his eyes and sat down on the ground again, marking something in a journal with a piece of charcoal. "Oh, Shin."
Morio made his way through tight squeezes between the wooden huts, jumped over a well and stopped for a moment to pick up a Metho seed. He put it in his pocket, smirked and sprinted again.
He opened a fence gate, running through the pens and finally making it out of the hamlets, passing by a massive, leafless tree.
"What are you in such a hurry for, Morio?" An older man, who stepped out of the tree, asked.
Morio turned on his heel. "Um! I- aak!" he yelled out with crazed joy and continued his marathon.
The older man shook his head before laughing.
As buildings became scarce, Morio had to manoeuvre his way around trees that carved a bent path towards a small valley with lots of pines. A place in Mistwick that some would call Per Frisk, for whatever reason, despite it barely having anything to do with playful leaps.
The leaves cleared, letting the sun peak through, and Morio stopped as well, with a halted breath.
There it was, right before his eyes, clear as the snow around his big, brown shoes.
Mount Aria.
Morio beamed, staring at the summit that extended far into the skies. A light wind went through his hair, and his eyes shone brighter. Even though he couldn't see anything past the distant clouds extending into Lot Thúrum, he always envisioned the top. It must've been quiet up there, and maybe even colder than on all nights in Yule.
He chuckled before putting the paper in his back and getting ready to walk, or run, once more.
"Morio!" A voice echoed, as a horse's neigh permeated the area. Morio turned, eyes widened, before jumping towards the woman sitting atop the animal's back.
"Mama!" Morio yelled, jumping in for a hug.
"Woah, woah. Watch out. This one's quite feisty," she grinned, raising him into her arms and staring at his awe-filled expression. She went through his messy hair, much to his annoyed groans, finally sitting the boy down in front of her. "Let's go back to our house."
The animal carried the two through the snowy lands, following a stepped-out road about a kilometre from the town centre, marked by a well, and a large, wooden building with a chimney right in the middle, predominantly used for holding large feasts.
"You were staring at that mountain again," she added. "Found yourself a new goal?"
"Yes! One day, I'll reach its peak, I promise, Mama!" Morio raised his fist.
"Climbing Mount Aria, exploring the entire world, finding a cooler pair of glasses for Jyuzou, discovering where all the items from Bancho's cabin came from, becoming the greatest Demonear and making a map of Shimori. You're quite ambitious, eh? Can't tell where that comes from," she snickered.
"That's only a small fraction of everything else I'll do! Actually...!" Morio pulled the paper out, waving it in front of his mom.
"Did you finish it?" she asked.
Morio nodded, staring down at the sheets, excited. "We're here, in Mistwick, following through the Uvo Forest and then going past the Mistigo Mountain will lead you right to Wendigo! And, and!" he almost choked on his own words. "Going through Lapida, then the Shimori Lake, and through the White Mountains, you'll get to Magna! But there's so much more as well! You'll have to take a look, Mama!"
"Well, it's not common to see ten-year-olds planning out an entire country, but who am I to judge?" she asked, squinting her eyes. "Glad your passion isn't like what the guys in the Wendigo you just mentioned do," she chortled.
"I was meant to ask about that. What's 'getting drunk' mean, Mama?" Morio asked.
"Something you'll have to concern yourself with once you're a little bit older."
"Well, if it's a mystery, then I'll solve it as fast as possible!"
"Bah," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not sparing the details."
"I'll ask Mr Bancho, then!"
Morio's mom sighed.
The horse stopped in front of a large, brown hut. It was a two-story building, with a sharp, triangular wooden roof specifically rebuilt for Morio's room, full of papers and all the stories he had written on them when younger. The downstairs was just as cosy, with pillows by the circular windows and tables, a thick couch near a fireplace and a bed standing behind the stairs leading up.
Per Frisk was also home to a shortcut to the adjacent hills where the coniferous forestation changed into rocks, covered with the same fluff. Everything else was open terrain, with a few dummies and whatnot, some destroyed and some standing still.
Morio jumped down, excitedly waiting for his mum to take a look.
"Let's see here," she uttered, taking it from his small hands and checking with her finger. "Right, right..." she put her hand on her chin. "How did you make this without leaving town?"
"I asked all around, listened to birds humming, read all the books in the library, and... oh! Mr Bancho was of great help as well!"
"Of course."
"One day I'm going to take this map to Lignoria and make it official in the atlases!" Morio continued as his mum opened the door with a silver key.
"Might want to scratch out our house from that map, though."
"Oh." Morio looked down at the paper, pointing towards the house. He started laughing and snorting since he couldn't do one without the other.
Morio was seen as kind of a strange kid, but one wouldn't say that morians his age weren't much different. They were ambitious little fellas, all packed with intense energy and eyes that shone brighter than the stars in the night sky.
That was the one thing everyone mentioned about the boy: his eyes were shiny, even though they were black. It didn't seem as if that light was ever to stop gleaming.
Morians, especially those of Mistwick, seemed to lose that energy over the years. They only really got bothered when their soup was too hot, or their glaskas, with an uneven ratio of both cocoa and tea.
The people of Mistwick lived in a bubble of peace. They wore thick sweaters and decorated their cotton jackets, made food from the ingredients found around the forest, but only some went out further to hunt for meat. They didn't have many troubles besides that, and when there was a complaint, it was quickly resolved.
Though there was one thing all the morians had in common, which was the belief in the god of Shin, a deity, protecting them from all the harm in this world.
Those in Mistwick had lots of different ways of appreciating what was given to them, such as throwing a found Metho seed into the river or burning twigs of jile-wood, falling from the branches of the junipers, three times per season. They didn't treat it as some special commotion or something that required absolute silence in prayers.
Shin Ceremony, or simply, burning of the jile-wood, was usually accompanied by great feasts and dances to the music played on the various instruments, most importantly cedar guitars or cinder woodwinds, called thaduk.
They played the songs into the dark of the night and enjoyed the warmth of the fire, as everything settled in for another day of an almost boring harmony, which remained the characteristic feature of Mistwick.
***
Morio closed his eyes, holding a dull, stone sword in his hands. His eyelid moved as he focused on the target in front: a dummy made out of cotton, filled with wool, barely glued together.
"Just like always, strike with full precision!" Morio muttered, breathing in and out as if he hurried to get the air into his lungs. "Mama always told me, if I practice a lot, I could be just like her."
He smiled, swinging the sword around.
"A Demonear!"
"I tell you, Victoria, it's the entire world with this kid." Morio's mum said, sipping on some hot cocoa.
"You're not going to tell me you acted any different when you were this little, Gloria," she pointed, with a smirk. "Not that I know, but I can tell from when you get an itty bit..." she signalled with her hand. "...calm on the fumes of Metho."
Gloria rolled her eyes, putting the small plate with the mentioned seed near the window. "Jyuzou is reserved and collected. I wish Morio would step back for once and read a book in relative silence,"
"Jyuzou told me he already read everything they have in the library." Victoria giggled.
"Silence is the keyword. He runs back from his room to scream at me about everything he learned."
"Pff. Jyuzou gets almost too invested in his stories. One time, he spent an entire day cosied up in his bedroom." Victoria smiled. "Maybe we could trade for a day, eh?"
"Funny little thing you are, Vic." Gloria pointed. "Don't get me wrong, though. He's a pure little Shinnia in my eyes." Gloria answered. "Just... when does this phase end?"
"A few months, give or take?" Victoria sipped on the cocoa, chuckling.
"You look me dead in the eyes and tell me this will change in a matter of months?" she pointed to Morio swinging the sword at the dummy, yelling out in vigour.
"Ehe." Victoria shrugged. "Anyways, isn't the Shin Ceremony today?" she asked, scratching her head. Gloria trembled a bit in response. "Not be a child's joy killer, but the sun's already setting."
Gloria huffed, opening the other window.
"MORIO! GO GET THE JILE-WOOD ALREADY!" she screamed, as Morio dropped the sword to the ground and nodded, before running around in a mild panic.
She sighed before turning to the other woman.
"I feel as if Morio just wants to be like you."
"That's a good thing?" she chuckled. "I can barely ride that horse."
"You know what I'm talking about, right?" Victoria took another sip, as Gloria looked over to the sword mounted on the wall.
Gloria shook her head, fixing her coat and stepping towards the door, listening to Morio's muffled yells of either fear or excitement for another task. She couldn't tell.
"I'm surprised you're not complaining about the lack of tea. I'm gonna ask Bancho for some later in the e-evening." Gloria shook her head before putting the empty wooden cups into a small bowl filled with water.
Victoria sighed, putting her hand on her forehead. "Avoiding the topic again?"
Gloria ground her teeth, looking to the side. "Morio's doing well enough by himself. He doesn't need those other stories."
"You're saying all that as if you ever told me of them. All I know is that you became a Demonear, something happened, and you gave up. I'm starting to think that someone forced you to become one."
"Huh? Why would they?"
"I don't know. Okay, I'm rambling. Never mind." Victoria sighed. "Consider it as a thought. Morio desperately wants you to be the hero, and I'm sure he'll search for a way to prove his claims."
Gloria sighed before turning away from the weapon.
As their words implied, Jyuzou was the opposite. He spent most of his days wandering around town or the nearby forests, valleys or even hills searching for any interesting flora to analyse bit by bit. He seemed to be way more mature than Morio, but you could easily tell he was still young from the way he spoke to people who weren't as educated on the obscure flowers he found in that red book of his, even though he had trouble with the letter 'r' and often stuttered on a few harder words such as 'development' or 'purple'.
Besides that, he also knew some things Morio didn't. He could cook very well, and Morio tended to burn his fingers if he put them anywhere near an open fire. Jyuzou knew how to mix seeds and plant-based food to make the greatest of meals, courtesy of Victoria's words, while Morio had hands-on experience with hunting animals, joining Bancho's missions once or twice.
Through the most challenging of such, he hunted... one bunny, and asked Jyuzou to cook it for him with a side of that delicious stew.
Despite their differences, one wouldn't let go of the other, and this wasn't something you'd choose sides on. It was always Morio and Jyuzou, two of the many, quieter kids in Mistwick.
Morio hummed a song while strolling through a small copse, not too far from his house. He picked up a twig, and then another, putting down a basket he carried on his back and stuffing them in.
The area he ventured in was, curiously, one without much of the juniper trees, and instead, most of the twigs were carried here by the surrounding winds. The path he trod was a wooden road with smaller torches, and houses here and there bore triangular ends on their rooftops, casting a shadow over the footpath to the hamlets.
After about twenty minutes and seventeen more pieces, Morio calmly looked for more between the tree houses. However, he spotted something else.
"Jyuzou!" Morio raised his voice as he gazed at the brown-haired boy, fixing his glasses. Jyuzou turned around and sighed as Morio ran down from the hill and almost tripped into the snow.
"Please don't interrupt my work today." Jyuzou shook his head.
"You're collecting wood too?" Morio asked, as Jyuzou's basket was filled to the brim with sticks.
"I always have, Morio. Why would it be any different now?"
"I've never seen you do it beforehand!"
Jyuzou smirked. "Did you think half of that Jile-wood appeared out of nowhere?"
"We could've done this together, hand in hand!"
"With you? You're way too l-level-headed for any cooperation!"
Morio frowned angrily. "I think I know what that word means, and that's not true!"
"I can't keep up with your pace, that's all!"
"Then, you have to learn to run! To reserve that stamina!" Morio clenched his fists, clapping twice. "You call yourself a morian if you're running out of energy so quickly?!"
"I don't run out of energy. I just don't want this to be some s-sort of competition." Jyuzou muttered and sucked in air through his teeth.
"How much Jile-wood have you collected?!" Morio pointed.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Jyuzou raised his voice.
"FORTY-THREE!"
"FIFTY-TWO!"
"Oh." Morio stepped back as his eyes shrank. "Darn!" he turned on his heel and ran elsewhere.
Jyuzou growled as he turned to what dropped out of the other boy's pants. He picked up a shrivelled piece of paper and analysed its contents.
Morio jolted back, breathing heavily. "It fell out of my pocket!"
"A map of Mistwick? I thought you were working on Shimori."
"Already finished that! Why did you think I was so joyous and almost killed that stupid flower?" Morio asked. "The answer was obvious, and yet the smartypants Jyuzou failed to connect the dots.
"It's not stupid!" Jyuzou raised his voice before looking back at the map. "Phew, though. A-all the routes, the houses, they're all marked. Even the shapes."
"It's not finished!" Morio snatched it from his hands. "Even if it was, you weren't going to be the first person to see it in its full glory."
Jyuzou crossed his arms. "Mama, then?"
"Heck yeah! She will be yelling out at the top of her lungs in joy!"
"That's totally how adults work," Jyuzou grinned, and Morio sighed, with almost all of his twigs and branches pouring out from the side.
Jyuzou stared for a moment, concerned, before clearing his throat.
"By the way, um." he blinked. "Do you want to... work together, maybe?"
"Huh?"
"You make the maps, I can tell you where certain plants grow. We can make something cool together, like in the tale of Karin and Anders, where-"
"-They created a bridge over the lakes of Lignoria!" Morio opened his mouth, shocked. He jumped up twice. "How would that work with plants, though?"
"No clue, but we'd be the ones writing the story, this time...!"
Morio gasped before clenching his fists. "Then it's set!" Morio raised a finger. "We're creating something for the world to remember! A new goal!"
Jyuzou fixed his glasses. "We could start working on it after the ceremony. I remember all the Callothia spots by heart," he added, enthusiastically.
"No, no, Jyuzou. I'm talking about a faraway future, here." Morio grinned as the two marched through town, passing people preparing for the night's celebration. "After this map's done, I'm training at least three hours each day!"
"Why?" Jyuzou muttered.
Morio stopped in disappointment. "To become a Demonear, Jyuzou! Strongest there is!"
Jyuzou gulped. "Right. That."
"Think about the opportunities, though!" he put the basket down, signalling with his hands as if he was creating a story. "No matter where I go, I have my trusted weapon with me, so nothing gets between me and my map-making! Then, when I'm finished with all that, we can work together to mark their... flowers." Morio looked to the side, rolling his eyes. "So yes, faraway future!"
"You'll be leaving Mistwick in a year, then," Jyuzou uttered.
"Precisely!" Morio replied. "I can't let Mama down! She'll see her son as a successful warrior!" he laughed, snorting. "...and now that I have a map of Shimori, I can go to Magna all by myself as well!" he strutted forward. "I guess I could tell you all about it once I'm done with all my travels!"
Jyuzou put a hand on his forehead.
"There you two are." An older man said as Morio and Jyuzou put the baskets in front of a massive wooden box, with some ash lying inside. "How much wood have you collected?"
"Fifty-two!" Morio raised his voice, quickly snatching five little branches from Jyuzou's basket. The other turned, but barely paid as much attention. The sight of the circle as more of something Jyuzou wound up admiring.
The river clashed with the erected footpath, and soared towards the rocky peaks of the nearby hills, stretching over the bridge towards the other huts, and where trees grew as small as those seeds they dropped.
He squinted, imagining the nightlights shining from the sharpest peak up there, and saw himself sitting in that bigger wooden house along the road, staring through the ceiling windows and admiring the sights.
"Great work, as always," The old man nodded, before sitting down on a big, wooden chair. "Tonight's gonna be great," he said, looking at the sky, which began dimming, with the sun already setting in the distance. "The lights above will shine the brightest, with the most vivid of colours. I expect lots of morians to dance around the fire."
"Mr Bancho, do you have that thaduk with you?" Jyuzou asked as Morio put the wood into the box, eyeing Jyuzou for not doing the same.
"I almost forgot. You wanted to learn a song or two, right?"
"Might be fun." Jyuzou beamed.
"Stealing my idea, huh?" Morio asked.
"I'll try and ignore the wood you took from my basket." Jyuzou continued, and the two passed smacks from one another, but stopped when Bancho turned around.
"I left it at my house." Bancho put his hand into the pocket of his pants, made out of square cotton patches. "Why don't you bring it for me, Jyuzou? It should be right by my bed. I've been practising," he passed a red key to Jyuzou, smiling.
The boy took it from his hand and walked up a flight of brown stairs, right behind the carved-out space for the ceremony.
Meanwhile, Morio seemed to be annoyed by something.
"Is everything okay?"
"I hate that the inside of the Jile-wood's yellow," Morio muttered. "I hate that colour,"
Bancho laughed, putting his other hand on his rather short beard.
After a quick walk, comprised of passing by other houses, trees stretching on the small hill towards the Camp Forest and another bridge separating the riverside from newer copses, Jyuzou made it to a big, leafless tree, with branches extending left and right, and the main log bending to the side at the halfway point, carving the way for a small balcony facing the Uvo Forest.
Unlocking the strangely-shaped door, he stepped inside, looking around at the tree's massive crown, hollow on the inside and basked in a warm orange. On many shelves, or hanging from wooden racks, were items which Bancho collected from the many adventures he's been on. During the ceremonies, the youngest of morians always gathered and listened to one of the many tales he never seemed to run out of.
Jyuzou looked at a dark, torn-apart coat. He recalled Bancho's story, something with him setting out for Malikan with a trusted friend and exploring its grassy terrains, finding a hidden stash of Silver behind a waterfall in Prope Portam. Not wanting to take too long, though, he fixed his glasses.
He turned the corner and eventually found the instrument, sitting on a small shelf near the bed.
***
The day changed into night, and fires were lit all around Mistwick, closed within sheets of thin cotton cloth. The ones shining the brightest cleared a path towards the ceremony.
Older morians played the guitars, while women danced with their newfound partners. The kids tried jumping in on the fun, but some were scolded by an adult, telling them to wait for their turn.
Others enjoyed a nice meal, consisting of Metho and Shato seeds combined with vegetables preserved from the last Gorro. Some focused on big clumps of meat from the animals hunted the day before.
After the dances, a newlywed couple stepped in, and the song shifted to a different tune. They jumped in their decorated robes, with a coat of paint smeared beneath their eyes. As someone added a log to the fire, the two kissed, against its fiery backdrop.
The morians clapped in joy, signalling for them to come over and enjoy the food.
Gloria stared out of a window in her house. Her hands landed on a small plate, and when the burnt Metho Seed tumbled to the floor, she seemingly ignored it. She turned to the weapon on the wall once more before finding something wrapped around her neck.
She squeezed it for a little while before averting her gaze towards the door. She waited for a few more seconds before setting out towards the ceremony.
"Clavis Crystal." Bancho rubbed a white stone in his hands. "We travelled by boats to defeat the vengeful and powerful dragons. On the last few days of our adventure, when the waters began creating massive waves, I found multiple of these, hidden in between stashes of-"
"Lapuna flowers," Jyuzou muttered.
"How did you know?" Bancho asked.
"You told us this once already!" Morio raised his voice.
"Oops!" Bancho covered his mouth as some kids laughed. "Then, I guess I still have a few more in store."
Morio turned, sitting on the snowy ground, right next to Jyuzou.
"Man! Are there any stories we haven't heard of already?"
"I'm sure there are still a lot of items waiting to be told of," he fixed his glasses. "Also, you never know when Mr Bancho sets out for another adventure."
Morio giggled. "One day, I'm gonna join him and bring back an item of my own."
"So, another goal?" Jyuzou smiled awkwardly.
"Like it wasn't one already!" Morio raised his fist.
Despite Bancho's elderly appearance, many older morians around the village didn't hold on to their youth as well as he did. No one knew his age; some speculated that he was in his seventies or eighties, but still managed to look fifty. Morians didn't age as fine as the wine kept deep in the basements of the Goldenleaf Castle.
Maybe it was the stories he always had to keep track of to entertain children that kept his appearance young? If you were to look in his eyes, you could easily tell they held hundreds of years' worth of experience.
Therefore, Bancho was quietly selected to be the leader of Mistwick, as no morian opposed that idea. He organised lots, kept the wrong at bay, and always engaged with others. He made sure that no one in town walked around on an empty stomach, and in some cases, he'd be the one preparing a meal for someone found starving.
Morio stared at the fire and yawned. Gloria, who sat on a chair at the side, smiled, seeing his white, shaggy hair that looked more pinkish under the firelight.
"Glad that he's not bothering you?" Victoria asked, holding a cup of glaska in her hand.
"Don't picture me as that parent." Gloria huffed.
"I'm just joking." Victoria put down the cup, lighting a Metho seed and inhaling its fumes.
"He's a great kid, despite everything. Feels like he's the only one that understands me," she admitted.
"What about me?"
"You know it's different, isn't it?" Gloria pointed. "I'm talking, mother and son. A bond made with our b-blood."
"We could be blood sisters if we made a pact."
"We're not demons." Gloria laughed. "But I appreciate your efforts."
"It's cool, Gloria." Victoria beamed. "I get what you mean."
She looked to the side, picking up a cup of cocoa, warming her hands.
"Mama..." Morio muttered, essentially crawling towards Gloria.
"There's the child," she closed one eye, as Morio sat on her lap, and then put his head against one of her thighs. "Are you tired?"
Morio made a strange noise.
"You can sleep here," she said, putting her hand through his hair.
"Calms for your nerves. You seemed quite stressed out when you came here." Victoria added.
Gloria shushed her, and the other woman raised her hands before rolling her eyes and treading over to Jyuzou, who complained about something.
"Mama." Morio yawned. "Why are my eyes different from yours?" he turned, pointing at her blue irises, and she opened her mouth slightly.
"Y-You have your dad's eyes, Morio. They were as black as some of the nights around here, yet they shone as beautifully," she graced his cheek.
"Your eyes are pretty, too," he said.
"That's very nice of you." She glanced to the side, as her heart skipped a beat. She ground her teeth before breathing in.
The fires from the lamps seemed to change directions. The lot walked up the hill and towards the big, wooden building near the hamlet, where a big feast awaited the attendees. After all, morians valued food above all else. Some liked to drink stronger stuff, but Mistwick didn't have that, so they focused on filling their stomachs up for the nights.
Jyuzou followed Bancho and Victoria, almost stumbling over a few steps, before fixing his glasses and reaching out for the woman's hand.
Gloria thought about a thing or two, spotting the scene. Most morians had great sight, as their eyes were adapted to spotting things in the white snow. Jyuzou, however, needed to wear glasses to make out the most basic shapes around Shimori. Especially in Yule, his vision was affected.
Yule, being the old Manjuno word for the wintery seasons around Errarion, where most regions experience colder weather with occasional or constant snowfall. Yule means 'lack of progress', as in practically no crops grow during the time of the year.
Turning her eyes back to the sleeping Morio, the other differences became apparent. Jyuzou had brown hair, unlike the usual white and blonde hair typical of everyone else. Except for everything else that made the other, quiet kid, Morio was almost the polar opposite.
Yet, when she focused, she saw herself in his small, immature features. She gasped before breathing in.
"I'll be going home now, Morio," Gloria muttered. "I think you should go with the others."
"I'll sleep here," Morio muttered, turning around and falling onto the snow.
Morians were known to sleep on snow. Their bodies were used to the harsher Yule environment, and considering that sometimes travelling through snowy terrain without a refuge for the night meant lack of shelter, they started a small fire near their bedding, despite its possible dangers. You'd seldom hear stories of travellers going missing with only an unlit campfire left behind, but in towns such as Mistwick, this wasn't necessarily an uncommon practice.
"Alright." Gloria kissed him on his forehead before taking something out of her pocket, as Morio glanced at it with one open eye.
He almost reached his small hand out, but it dropped in the middle of his mild exhaustion.
Gloria giggled. "If in doubt, remember," she wrapped a necklace around his neck; an emblem of a reversed triangle with a line going down the middle. "You can always come home, Morio." She stood up and walked away into the darkness. "When the real world gets too scary, or... if something doesn't go your way. Home will always be here, and I'll be there too."
Morio fell asleep.
***
Jyuzou sat on one of the chairs, desperately trying to pour in some of the stew Bancho made. Desperately, as in, he kept getting interrupted by people who'd either bump into his shoulder or unknowingly push him onto the table. After a while, he gave up, sitting with a pout. He looked towards the window on the ceiling as the lights shone in.
Morio woke up, stretching his hands and yawning once more. He put his hand over his chest, scratching around, before feeling something below his brown button-up. He sat up before digging out the necklace, flipping it between his fingers.
He smiled, recalling Gloria's words as he drifted off for a few minutes there. Rubbing his eyes, he stood up and began marching back towards his house.
With each step taken, the sound of the faraway party grew quieter and distant. The warm lights disappeared, and Morio was left with nothing but the colourful stare from the ones above, playing around in the sky against a starry backdrop. He looked up, seeing Mount Aria, and then those sparks, which stared back at him.
...and with a few more turns, he followed a familiar path, one with a tree that inconveniently grew in the middle of the road. Gloria always talked about how much of a nuisance it was that she had to step into the thick snow with the horse to avoid it.
He chuckled before walking down into a valley. He could see his wooden house, with no lights shining inside.
"Mama must be already asleep," he thought. "I'll sneak in, quietly."
Morio blinked, and when the distant blur of the night became brighter, another light reflected off his dark pupils.
Which stopped gleaming like before.
The house was engulfed in flames. They extended out the windows and eventually reached the spiky ceiling.
Morio blinked again, opening his mouth in shock, following a loud, painful scream.
He ran forward, desperately swinging his hands back and forth. He wanted to jump in, but, following suit, something exploded, sending glass shards, as well as the morian, further away from the house.
He lifted himself off the ground, hands pushing on the unlit wooden bits from the side. He grabbed the stone sword lying near the dummy and smashed through the wood, searching for Gloria.
There she was, on the floor. Unconscious, with a clean circle around all the other fires.
"Mama!" Morio shouted. "Get up! The house is burning! Mama!" He jumped above the fire, reaching his hand out. He turned his widened eyes towards Gloria, who didn't respond.
He crouched, putting both hands on her shoulders and shaking. Without a word added, he tried to lift her. Suddenly, however, the upper floor collapsed, with some of the logs from above separating the two morians. More debris kept him pinned, halting all his movements, and he struggled to breathe.
"Mum...!" he kicked his legs around, as some of the fallen floors burned out, revealing Gloria, as the fires started consuming her body, starting from her hand, up to the decorated, thick dress she often wore, accompanied by a furry, blue coat.
Morio's pupils twitched, and tears went down his cheeks. He yelled at the top of his lungs.
"MAMA!"
He kept pushing, eventually standing up, but almost losing balance.
As he was about to take one more step, something appeared, turning from the spinning flames into a broad figure. Its eye flipped and changed shape before locking onto Morio. Horns grew out, and the demon formed legs and a physical body, which kept burning. It screeched, opening its mouth that was in the place of its stomach.
Morio wept as he gazed at the demon in fear. It smashed through the wall behind him, pushing him out of the house and into the cold snow.
He coughed blood onto the whites. "Mama..!" he kept mumbling to himself, pressing a wound on his shoulder. The demon stepped out of the wreck, turning its eye to the shaking morian.
Its mouth started warping, changing into a spinning hole with a black tongue, and fire charged up from the inside.
If Morio didn't stand up, if he couldn't find the strength in his legs, he'd burn to a crisp just like everything else he had.
Morio ground his teeth, yelling out.
He launched himself forward, almost as if foolishly trying to mitigate its impossible move.
The demon let go of the charged-up shot as it headed right towards Morio.
...suddenly, however, it bounced off and landed in the snow.
Morio turned his head, with an arm pushing him away.
Bancho held a red axe, Saxyo, in one hand, opening his eyes and looking at the demon.
He slowly stepped forward, swinging the weapon, before swiping, trying to hit the creature. It avoided his shot.
A rope crawled out from the axe, attaching itself to the demon. At a moment's notice, it flew right back to Bancho.
He swung the weapon, slicing through its mouth and grinding his teeth, flipping it around. The string snapped as it flew up, screaming in pain.
Bancho breathed in before throwing the axe upwards. An eye appeared on its end, and water poured from its shaft.
Grasping the stream, he flew right up, moving his hand back, slicing through the demon's body.
With one last scream, its hot blood covered Bancho, and its two halves fell to the ground. Its fires disappeared with a windy breeze, and water covered the old man as he cooled off, breathing in and out. He dropped the axe to the ground and moved some of the thin white hair that covered his face.
He huffed before turning over to Morio, watching him stare at the flamewall.
When the rest of the wooden structure crushed down, there she was, completely silent.
"Mama..." Morio cried out before letting out an extremely painful wail. Bancho ran over, putting a hand over his eyes and grinding his teeth, hugging the young morian from behind.
He stared forward, in similar pain, with the young one's screams echoing into the depths of the night.