The Demon's Return

by Selva, SK

  “You will not harm him. He is as part of this clan as you and I,” she said.

  “As you and I?” guffawed Balaraj. “Do you not remember what I have done for this clan?”

  He turned to the audience. “Look at us. We are unicorns. We have one horn, four legs, and long manes. He is not one of us.”

  “He is an Ilemurian,” retorted Roshna. “Therefore, he is one of us.”

  “You’ve endangered us all with that thing.”

  The more and more he fought, the more and more Roshna knew she was going to defend Veeran.

  “He is a living, breathing creature that has a birthright to this land,” said Roshna. “The ancient dragons wanted to share the wealth and magic of Ilemuria with everyone.”

  “Until they lost that privilege,” spat Balaraj. “He has no right here and never will.”

  “He is not to be punished for the faults of his ancestors.”

  “Samara made the wrong choice in picking you as her successor. It should have been me!”

  A blast of warm air rolled through the center of Marutam as the winds howled and the nearby tree branches shook violently. Some of the unicorns looked up in amazement as three enormous creatures flew down onto the stage. It creaked loudly, struggling to hold the extra weight.

  The dragons had arrived.

  The unicorns all bowed when they recognized King Nahusha, flanked by two of his subjects. Balaraj, Aaryav, and Roshna bent their knees as well. Veeran, still in shock, followed suit, perhaps a little too late. The dragons walked closer.

  “So, you found one and brought him,” said the biggest dragon, his regal voice commanding yet fatherly.

  “Yes, Raja,” said Roshna. “I had your instructions and Samara’s best wishes in mind when I found him and made this decision.”

  “Indeed,” said the king.

  Veeran had never shaken so much in his life. It was a wonder the wooden planks underneath him weren’t vibrating. Out of everything that had taken place that day, this topped them all. The king stopped in front of him.

  “If you would, please stand up and lower your hood,” he requested.

  Veeran rose, still trembling. His hands were shaking, even though the night was warm. He grabbed his hood and pulled it back, revealing the horns and red skin tone. A gasp went through the crowd.

  “The demons have truly returned,” said King Nahusha.

  The murmurs from the unicorns were louder than whispers, but Veeran could only stare at the king. The face that regarded him had so much warmth, as though he truly was happy to see him.

  “Are you well?” asked the king.

  “Yes, sir. I mean, Raja?” stuttered Veeran.

  King Nahusha surveyed Veeran closely. The boy was clearly shy.

  “We’re glad to have you here,” he said.

  “No, Raja!” shouted Balaraj. The king’s two bodyguards suddenly stood alert.

  “You cannot allow him to stay. You remember what happened before. He is his ancestral race. We need to stop this now.”

  “Balaraj,” began the king. “Ilemuria and I thank you for all that you have done for the land. We will always be grateful. However, it is my rule and my decision to announce that this boy will be staying. He will interact with the unicorn clan and come to the Vlatta Potti. You and no one else will interfere.”

  “I cannot allow that, Raja,” said Balaraj. “He is a danger.”

  “You cannot allow my rule?” questioned King Nahusha. His fatherly face had suddenly been replaced by an incensed gaze.

  Balaraj shuffled back. “I apologize, Raja. Did not mean to offend.”

  “Quite all right,” said the king, suddenly warm again. “I do not blame you for your fears. Do come to me if you ever need anything. The land owes you a great debt.”

  Balaraj nodded and slumped backward, defeated.

  “If any danger falls upon Veeran here,” said King Nahusha to the crowd, though mostly to Balaraj, “the unicorns will be banned from the games, losing their seat on the council by default.”

  The silence that filled the air was deafening.

  “However, should he display any sort of danger to anyone, he will be banished, and we will never try to give the demons another chance. Does this sound fair?”

  Balaraj lifted his head a little higher. “Your Grace has always been fair. Allow me to keep a watchful eye,” he tried to bargain.

  “Roshna will watch and judge impartially,” said the king. He turned back toward Veeran.

  “Stay out of trouble, please,” he asked.

  “I will, Raja,” said Veeran, a little stronger this time.

  King Nahusha turned to the crowd. “Good to have you all back.”

  They cheered as the three dragons jumped off the stage, transformed in midair, and flew off into the night. Aaryav held his breath as he watched a furious Balaraj storm away.

  The crowd quietly began to disperse, gossiping about what had just happened. A few nodded to Veeran, who nervously nodded back. Others eyed him, a little rudely perhaps, and some outright ignored him. Finally, it was him, Aaryav, and Roshna left. Roshna looked more confused and worried than Veeran had seen her thus far.

  “Well, it could have certainly gone better,” she said.

  Veeran could feel the uneasiness slither down his spine.

  “But also a whole lot worse. I’m happy the king has accepted,” she said with a sudden smile. “You’re free now, Veeran.”

  Am I really?

  “Aaryav,” said Roshna. “Please make sure to take care of Veeran. Show him the village and what he can do to pass the time.”

  “Will do!” he said alertly.

  “Thank you,” said Roshna as she turned to Veeran. “I know you will be alright, but if you need anything, come and find me. I’ll be here for you.”

  “Thank you for everything,” said Veeran. He trusted her.

  Roshna gave them both a wave and walked away.

  “My hut’s over there,” said Aaryav, pointing.

  It was clearly late in the night, and there were few unicorns left outside. They walked in silence to Aaryav's hut, a small one in comparison with the ones beside it. He showed Veeran to his room.

  “If you need anything, just knock on my door over there,” he said, pointing. Veeran thanked him. Seeing no bed but a pile of grass in the corner, Veeran lay down. It was surprisingly comfortable.

  CHAPTER 11

  ***

  K arnan had never been fond of portals. There were those in Kurunji who thought he could travel faster on land quicker than those flying creatures through the air. The feeling of all four hooves stomping through the forests as he made fresh footprints elevated him to what he thought was the best feeling in the world: freedom.

  The sound of powerful wings whooshing caused Karnan to glance up. His masterful eyes looked closer and saw three large, scaled creatures.

  Wait, he thought as he slowed to a trot to look properly. Is that the king?

  Unless his eyes were deceiving him, and they never did, the king had received his message and was heading to Marutam.

  No doubt to see the demon boy.

  He continued his solo journey late into the night and finally burst into a clearing. Not too far away was the entrance to Kurunji, or what he liked to call home.

  The biggest village in all of Ilemuria, Kurunji was home to many different creatures and sometimes called the Iron Village. Orcs, ogres, trolls, and centaurs had lived together for many centuries. Their buildings stood tall and proud, and many neighboring creatures visited for goods and services they could not receive anywhere else.

  Two troll guards waved Karnan through. The centaurs stayed deep in Kurunji, near the edge of the forest. Smoke billowed from great fires as far as the eye could see, and Karnan knew everyone was still up celebrating their return. Past the shops and residences he strolled, different creatures of different sizes giving him his well-earned space. His hooves clacked on the cobbled brick road, his ears hearing the sound of iro
n on iron as everyone banged their tools and weapons together in joy.

  One of the biggest buildings in all of Ilemuria came into view, and Karnan could not help but smile. It was said that the Noble Library contained books written by the very first dragons. Centaurs, being some of the most learned creatures, had carefully documented the history of the land and the magic and skills learned by all Ilemurians. It was bustling with activity, a welcome sight. Centaurs were creatures of the night who preferred to sleep during the day.

  His loyal villagers greeted him joyously as he took the time to welcome them all back individually. A good leader never thought himself above any of his subjects. They all quickly went back to celebrating. It would be the only time they had, since they knew they would be hard at work the next day. They would not want to break the longest streak the Council of Elders had ever seen.

  Karnan’s rooms were a small stone structure near the forest in the library courtyard. The first centaur leader had built it by hand, and it had stood tall for many centuries. Each leader since had made sure to repair any damages from wear and tear by hand to keep the storied home ever standing. The location was ideal. The stars were most visible from his windows, and the forest for some quick exercise and fresh air was within trotting distance. The swift access to the knowledge and books meant that he had everything he needed close by. Centaurs had tried to be an unbiased clan throughout the land’s time, their only loyalty to Ilemuria. When called upon, though, they were the fiercest warriors.

  When he entered his quarters for the first time in years, they looked exactly as how he had left them, though a little bit dustier. His comfortable bed made of hay took up a small corner, while books and other trinkets littered the many tables. A map of the land took up an entire section of the floor, and his ingredients to different potions that the elves and fairies gifted remained unopened in a dark corner.

  Karnan settled his few belongings and walked over to his favorite station. Gadgets that would never have worked in the human world were buzzing as they sensed the energy from the land and returning creatures. Karnan, however, had a special instrument he wanted to look at.

  An ancient scale sat in the middle of his workshop. Many centuries before, his predecessors had come up with a way of checking the land’s balance. The creatures needed to know if they were asking for too much and if they were giving enough back. The early centaurs had devised a scale that would forevermore tilt with rubies on the side using more energy. As long as it was perfectly balanced, the land was content. The traditional games usually tipped the scales slightly, but even then Karnan made sure his tribe helped bring it back. When the scales began to tip dangerously, they knew the land needed rest and it was time to go back to the human world.

  This very scale was replicated for the dragons as a gift. The larger version sat in Kataragamam Castle, and Karnan had happily seen its balance at the meeting mere weeks ago. Smaller versions were used throughout the embassy at Kiramam Square, but the original would always sit with him.

  He doubted anyone knew that he still maintained it. Doubt had been cast on whether it was still accurate, but Karnan had no reason to believe that it did not still serve its initial purpose, even if the one at Kataragamam Castle was considered the official scale. King Nahusha had shown them its happy balance.

  But was it?

  Karnan stared curiously at his scale. That can’t be right, he thought.

  It was tipping precariously over to one side. Karnan tried adjusting it to see if it would right itself.

  It did not.

  Something’s wrong here, thought Karnan. Is the land in danger?

  He sat down. The new demon, the sudden appearance on Roshna’s map, and the king’s insistence all raced through his mind. He took out his private books and went to work checking the scale, hoping that there was a mistake.

  *

  Balaraj struggled as he lay in bed. His mind would not stop racing.

  He’s not back. No, Ravanan. Don’t do it! Don’t!

  It had been so long since he had seen a demon. He remembered the trial where the king had banished their old leader, Ravanan, and his tribe along with him. The king only decades later thought he had made a mistake and tried to persuade the council to bring them back. Balaraj had argued vehemently with Roshna.

  “We shouldn’t bring them back,” he had roared years earlier.

  “We can teach them our new ways,” responded Roshna. “Samara would have wanted it.”

  “Samara chose wrong.”

  No matter how many times they had fought over this through the years, she would never see it his way. Roshna used to try to reason with him but now just kept her stance stoically. Samara had given her clear instructions.

  Balaraj continued to twist and turn in his bed. Ravanan’s face would be forever burned into his memory. Karnan and Hemadri and many others had almost perished in the battle. Others lost their lives, including…

  He did not want to think about it.

  The demons were never a peaceful bunch. Their ways of fighting had almost destroyed all the other clans. If the dragons had not shown up, who knows what would have happened to Ilemuria.

  He could not take it anymore. The battles, the magic, the look of evil on the demons’ faces. Balaraj got up and made his way downstairs.

  He reached into the tallest of his cabinets and pulled out an old, dusty bottle. He ripped off the cork.

  Balaraj himself did not know what he was saving this ancient bottle for. He lifted it slowly.

  And he threw it against the wall, watching satisfied as it broke into pieces.

  He grabbed another and threw it as well, followed by another. With each bottle he felt stronger and more focused. The once full cupboard stood empty as Balaraj panted heavily.

  As long as that murderous monster is here, I will need to be at my best to make sure the land is safe.

  He had not felt this sober in years.

  *

  Veeran awoke groggily, shielding his eyes as the bright morning sun shone through his window. His unfamiliar surroundings brought back memories from the day before as he suddenly realized he had no way of knowing what time it was or if they even had a concept of time in this world. He sat there quietly.

  If his time in Ilemuria was going to be anything like it had been so far, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last.

  He was grateful that the king himself had given him his blessing, knowing he would not have had any courage to leave his room if he had not. Balaraj was a very scary creature. If he was going to survive here, he was going to have to stay clear of him and stay out of trouble.

  No matter what he tried, though, he could not get the voice from the fire out of his head.

  Nahi srambh…

  Saahaayamh…

  Was someone trying to talk to him? Why couldn’t Aaryav hear, and how was he even supposed to know what it meant?

  His grandmother’s wish was all he could think about as he donned his cloak. Veeran had no idea how he was supposed to restore glory to the demon clan, but he knew the way he would not. Until there was something that gave him any sort of clue, Veeran was going to be on his best behavior.

  A loud rumbling interrupted his thoughts. Veeran held a hand to his stomach and realized just how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten the previous night. Making sure his cloak was on properly, Veeran left his room to see Aaryav already there.

  “Morning,” he greeted Veeran kindly.

  “Morning,” responded Veeran.

  He had been too tired last night to have a good look around Aaryav's small home. It was a rather empty space in need of some dire cleaning. Veeran walked toward a lone table, kicking up a layer of dust with each step, as Aaryav was finishing something in his one pot. The only light came from the open windows, illuminating the cracks forming in the stone walls.

  “Quite the night, huh,” said Aaryav.

  “Don’t think I’m going to get along with that Balaraj very much,” said Veeran.
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  “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. You have the king’s protection. I know Balaraj’s scary and all, but he’s the best battle teacher. I wouldn’t feel confident about entering the race without him.”

  “There are classes here?”

  Aaryav slapped his forehead. “Ah, man, forgot you didn’t know. Yeah, there are a few. Magic, battle, hunting. Pretty much training for the different games at the Vlatta Potti. You can pick whichever ones you want to take, but Roshna at least wants all first returns to do magic.”

  “Does Balaraj teach all of it?”

  “No.” Aaryav laughed. “He’s not the best with magic, not sure why. Lots of people come and watch him teach battle classes, though, even just to pick up things. If you’re ever comfortable enough, I highly recommend it.”

  “Think I’ll hold off for now on that,” said Veeran, tapping nervously on the table. “When’s the magic class?”

  “It will be midday at the small clearing next to the library, not too far from here,” said Aaryav. “I’ll point it out to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No worries, here’s breakfast.”

  He slopped down what looked like gray slosh in an old, chipped wooden bowl.

  “Unicorns love this stuff, not sure about demons, though,” said Aaryav, almost apologetically.

  Veeran looked down miserably. For someone who had been spoiled by his grandmother’s cooking for so long, he was not used to looking at something so unappetizing. Not wanting to hurt Aaryav's feelings, he lifted some to his mouth.

  It tasted disgusting but filled his stomach. He quickly took another bite. Quicker than he hoped, his spoon was coming up empty. He wasn’t hungry anymore, at least.

  “Delicious, right?” said Aaryav, starting his second bowl.

  “Filled me up,” said Veeran truthfully. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

  “You said the magic classes are near the library, right?”

  “Yep,” said Aaryav. “You know where it is. The embassy building has the library too, along with Roshna’s quarters..”