The Demon's Return

by Selva, SK

  “It is also another way to endanger Veeran.”

  Roshna bit her tongue. “You do think what we’re doing is right, do you, Karnan?” she asked.

  “Not what we’re doing; what you’re doing. I did not agree with you bringing him here without speaking to us, much less waiting to tell the king.”

  He turned his back and looked at the scale. Roshna could feel her stomach tightening in more knots as each second passed by, waiting for her friend to finally speak again.

  “However,” the burly centaur continued, “Samara was the most brilliant creature I ever met. I often thought she would have made a better queen than any dragon, but you know the law. Only a dragon can sit on the throne.”

  “The ancient dragons allowed us into their kingdom. It is only right,” said Roshna.

  “Be that as it may, we all, myself and the Council of Elders at the time included, thought banning the demons was the right idea. The only one to fight it was Samara. Perhaps she knew something.”

  “I never thought of it that way. It has been on her orders that I brought Veeran here. I always thought it was because he had an ancestral right to the land. You think there’s another reason?”

  Karnan walked over to a heavy-looking book, opening it to a particular page.

  “There are very few of us that were around when the demon tragedy happened. Do you remember the spell King Nahusha used to rid the land of all demon history? I always thought that was why it took so long for us to return afterward,” he said.

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “But history should never be erased.”

  Roshna’s eyes widened, suddenly understanding. “You still have it?”

  Karnan turned back to her. “I do.”

  Roshna could not take her eyes off the book he was holding.

  “Remember what Samara told us. We could not go by memory. What if we needed them or their magic? She gave this to me, and I took it, against my better judgment at the time. It is the only record of anything about demons. Even a map.”

  “Does it talk about Poombuhar?” asked Roshna.

  “It does, but the demon village was destroyed during the battle. I saw the king close the entrance myself. I doubt anyone besides him would have the power to open it.”

  Roshna stood up suddenly, her tea long forgotten. “You know there is a way we can.”

  Karnan slammed the massive book shut and tossed it away. “I know.”

  “Then why can’t we take him there? If your scales are dangerously tipping, then maybe he can help.”

  “We don’t know why they’re tipping yet,” countered Karnan.

  “Are you going to tell the king?”

  Karnan closed his eyes. He could almost hear Samara whispering to him as her last words floated through his head.

  “Is everything okay?” asked Roshna when she did not get an answer.

  “No.”

  “What do you mean? He has as much right to his village as he does the land. Especially if we might need him.”

  “Even so,” said Karnan. “We cannot guarantee everyone’s safety. What if he actually is the reason the scales are tipping? There is a lot of untapped magic left in that village, and if Veeran gets anywhere near it, he could potentially push the scale over.”

  “Or he could bring you clues as to what actually might be happening.”

  “I will not risk endangering the centaurs, let alone Ilemuria. You are a mesmerizing leader, Roshna, but we need to remember that Samara was alone in her stance to protect the demons for a reason. She may have told us to save the book and protect them if they ever came back, but we don’t know why. No one stood up for her at the time.”

  “And that was our biggest mistake of all,” said Roshna, suddenly furious. “You may be a war hero, Karnan, but sometimes the biggest battles for the land are not fought against our enemies, but within our own people. You may have battled and defeated the demons, ending the tragedy, but the land is magic. How can we ever truly know what happened?”

  “You were not at the battle,” growled Karnan. “We fought the demons. They unbalanced the land. Ilemuria was rife with tsunamis, hurricanes, and droughts. She almost wiped out some of our most precious resources. We lost…”

  “Do not say her name,” said Roshna icily.

  Karnan held his ground, gathering his thoughts before he spoke again. “I fought for this land. We have to make sure that it never happens again. Never forget that I supported you when you brought Veeran. I also told the king and calmed him when he realized he was not informed immediately. I will always support you, but not when it is against the kingdom. Veeran has his chance. If the scales tip any further, I will do only what’s best for Ilemuria.”

  “But what about what’s best for Veeran?” asked Roshna. “He never asked for any of this.”

  “I understand, but my duty is to the land and its creatures.”

  “I would say that includes Veeran.”

  Karnan said nothing.

  “I have Samara’s old horn,” she continued. “It told me we need Veeran.”

  Karnan continued to stay quiet.

  “You trusted her,” said Roshna.

  “Ilemuria comes first.”

  “Ilemuria is not just the land, but the creatures as well.”

  Karnan knew she was not going to back down. “I will think about what you said,” he said, “but be warned, if I have to pick between him and what I think is best for the land, Ilemuria will always be my priority.”

  “Mine too,” said Roshna.

  Even though Council of Elder leaders did not always agree, they always did what they thought was best for the land. Roshna trusted Samara, which meant she would have to protect Veeran.

  And Karnan knew that the dangerous game was just getting started.

  CHAPTER 1 4

  ***

  A s the days went by, Veeran was starting to feel more and more comfortable with his new life and new world. True, there were still stares, and he overheard the odd frightened conversation here and there, but it seemed as though if he kept to himself, no one would disturb him, and that was all he asked for.

  The hours he spent in the library in the mornings were peaceful. He sometimes ran into Thalia here and there. She would recommend certain books, and Veeran would read gratefully. Try as he might, he could not find anything related to demons. He did, however, learn more about the land.

  The magic classes were getting harder. No matter what he attempted, he could not feel the land trusting him at all. The other students had progressed to blossoming flowers and growing branches. A slight consolation was watching Puli struggle as well. The smug unicorn did not attend many of the classes anymore, but Veeran found those he was there the hardest.

  He was starting to notice how much stronger Aaryav was getting. Veeran was sure to compliment and encourage him. Aaryav mostly seemed to keep to himself but was friendly with the other unicorns.

  “That will be all for today,” said Thalia several classes later. “I think you two might be ready to try the unicorn mirakum soon.”

  Veeran’s classmates looked happier than he had ever seen. He could not bring himself to look at them as they left, giggling.

  “How are you doing lately?” Thalia asked Veeran.

  “I’m all right,” he said truthfully. “Keeping out of trouble.”

  “I haven’t seen you anywhere other than the library.”

  It was true. Veeran had grown accustomed to his routine. He spent all his afternoons just hanging around Aaryav's hut, the few books Thalia had taken out of the library for him almost finished. There were days Aaryav would not come home until after his battle class. Aaryav had asked him to come out several times, but he had refused.

  “Might be good to get some fresh air,” Aaryav had suggested. “And my friends in the battle class have been asking about you.”

  “I’m just not feeling it,” Veeran responded.

  He tried practicing his magic and asking the land
for energy those long days he spent alone, but the tugs on his toes and fingers were growing fainter. Maybe the land would never trust him.

  “Poorvi asked me about you, actually,” said Thalia. “Why don’t you take a break from the library and see her at the temple tomorrow?”

  Veeran tilted his head quizzically. Someone wanted to spend time with him?

  “You know, learning comes from many different avenues. Books and my magic classes will help, but we can see and feel so much more by speaking with our elders. We gain a lot of trust from the land when we give back.”

  Veeran thought about it.

  Worth a shot.

  *

  Veeran’s steps grew smaller and smaller, wanting nothing more to turn back. Before he could change his mind, he found himself inches from the entrance to the temple. Though the steps were old, he could feel how strongly they held his body. He tapped at the knocker, softly at first, hoping no one would answer. A unicorn he did not recognize suddenly opened the door.

  “Yes?” she asked kindly but warily.

  “I...I wanted to see Poorvi,” he said shyly.

  “What for?”

  Veeran wasn’t too sure how to answer. “Maybe to help.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” said a soothing voice from behind. Poorvi walked into view.

  “Thank you, Netra,” she said to the young unicorn, who did not take her eyes off Veeran as she left.

  Poorvi invited Veeran inside, and he glanced up in wonder. His eyes were drawn to the walls, covered with ancient drawings, telling stories of Ilemuria’s history in a way books could not. Rows of stone benches faced a dais, where a giant dragon statue stood on the stage, looking out into the temple.

  “The original dragon scholar, Chola,” said Poorvi, following Veeran’s gaze.

  “Is he a god?” asked Veeran.

  “Heavens, no.” Poorvi chuckled. “He is who we give thanks to for finding this world, along with his two travel companions centuries ago. It was Chola that studied the land and how the energy and magic balance. He also suggested the dragons bring the other creatures and helped establish a government and Council of Elders, which he led, of course.”

  “You mean…” said Veeran, understanding.

  “Yes, Chola was the first king of Ilemuria.”

  Though the statue stood still, Veeran could feel its piercing gaze on him. Chola had been the one that invited his ancestors to Ilemuria, along with all the other creatures.

  “Follow me,” said Poorvi.

  Veeran kept close behind the elder unicorn. Though she seemed frail, Poorvi walked with confidence and poise. They walked by two unicorns arguing over a sequence of pictures on the wall.

  “According to Eli the Brave’s notes, these pictures imply that unicorns placed third in the fifth return of the Vlatta Potti,” one of them said rather vehemently.

  “We did win the battle games two hundred years ago. These pictures prove it. The official historical records must be wrong,” the other one retorted, not budging an inch.

  Veeran’s eye caught a picture he could not understand. He reached out a curious hand, running his fingers over a unicorn flying down on a four-legged creature resembling a bear, its horn looking to pierce its prey.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “Ah, that’s an ancient picture. Notice how the paint still shows our bright white plumage and the details of our wings. This is a scene from the only time we won the hunting games,” explained Poorvi.

  It was so well drawn that Veeran could almost feel the fear resonating from the creature, as it would forever be depicted awaiting its impending fate.

  “Of course, we do not participate in the hunting games anymore,” said Poorvi. “In fact, I believe this was the only time, since we are more vegetarian than those beasts in Kurunji.”

  “There are animals here?”

  “Oh, yes, not many, but there are. This land is grander than you know. There are hundreds of miles of unexplored trenches.”

  “Places no one has ever gone?”

  “Maybe they have, and it has never been recorded, but the less we use of the land, the more she’ll trust us.”

  Veeran reached out to touch a small statue of a unicorn and then pulled back. Even at the temples he went to with his grandmother, he had learned to show respect to the idols.

  “What can I do to help?” asked Veeran.

  “I think the better question is, why do you want to help?” Poorvi returned.

  Veeran wasn’t too sure how to respond to that. “I mean…” he started. “I guess I’ve been having trouble in magic class. I thank the land, but she doesn’t lend me much magic.”

  He felt ashamed for saying so. Maybe he wasn’t meant to have any.

  “That’s quite all right, dear,” said Poorvi. “Ilemuria is an ancient soul that has seen a lot. It was not always peaceful, as you can see from the many stories on these walls. She helps those she knows have good intentions.”

  But are my intentions good, or selfish? Veeran did not know. Was bringing the demons back really what the land wanted?

  “Have you seen much of Marutam?” asked Poorvi.

  “Just the library, really,” said Veeran.

  “You are missing what we have to offer. I swear every time I return to the human world, there was always something I forgot to see.”

  Veeran could feel his curiosity starting to take over. Not even a few minutes into his first visit to the temple, he had already realized the amount he didn’t know was more than he originally guessed.

  What if he was super careful? Maybe the land was not trusting of someone who stayed home as much as possible. Maybe there were other places in the village he could go and gain more trust.

  “Over here, dear,” said Poorvi, pointing to a particular old part of the temple wall. Veeran studied the ancient paintings. It looked like unicorns throwing feathers into the air.

  “It’s our ancient magic,” explained Poorvi. “We like to whisper to items that we cherish and send them to other creatures in good faith. It’s a good way to send messages.”

  “Why not talk like that all the time?” asked Veeran.

  “There are only so many feathers we’d like to lose,” said Poorvi. “And it requires a great deal of energy from the land. We give back to her the more we interact with each other directly.”

  Veeran nodded his understanding.

  “Could you please try to document what you see? There are some quills and parchment over there you can use. I’m excited to see how you interpret it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And dear,” said Poorvi, turning away, “do lower your hood. Never be ashamed of who you are.”

  She walked away gracefully as Veeran turned his attention back to the wall. He slowly lowered his hood.

  If the land wants a demon, then I’ll give them a demon.

  *

  Aaryav was on his third bowl by the time Veeran got back home, several days later.

  “No magic class today?” he asked.

  “Been going to the temple more and more,” said Veeran.

  “That’s awesome. So glad to see you finally branching out!”

  “Yeah. Are you busy this afternoon? Can we check out the market?”

  Aaryav slapped the table so hard, his bowl fell to the ground. “Of course we can!”

  Veeran finished whatever food was left, hoping his sudden boldness would not fade away.

  “One thing that’ll help is you can try the different foods. I’m not the best cook,” admitted Aaryav. “There are a lot of different carts that have delicious veggies, the kind that we don’t get delivered.”

  Aaryav felt his mouth drop when he saw Veeran leave his cloak on the table.

  “I think that if the king wanted demons back, then I should show the land I’m not afraid,” explained Veeran.

  “Great idea!”

  Stepping out, Aaryav began walking in a direction Veeran had not ventured yet. Strugg
ling to keep pace, his ears immediately picked up the words and gasps of shock. Trying as hard as he could to be brave, he looked stoically forward.

  Aaryav’s hut was small but homey. The others were blessed with beautiful gardens full of plants he had never seen before. The dirt roads clapped beneath his hooves, and it felt good to have the sun hit his red skin directly.

  Veeran chanced a look up. A pair of older unicorns eyed him with mistrust, whispering loudly as they passed. A group of others in animated conversation stopped when he was close.

  “There’s the first home ever built in Marutam; not sure who lives there now. And those who practice advanced magic train in that area. Thalia is the best, for sure. The harvest lands are not too far. A lot of unicorns give back to the land there. It’s fun.”

  As the market came into view, Veeran found himself smiling for the first time.

  Several booths were manned by different unicorns of all ages and sizes, one who had a horn so ancient, it looked like it would fall off. Some were selling different garments specific for unicorns, others trinkets with a function Veeran was clueless about.

  “Get your balancer here. See what mood the land is in and if you need to give more!”

  “Yes, the finest leather. From the same animal that won the hunting games last return.”

  “This potion will help you fall asleep, I assure you. Got the ingredients from the elves and fairies directly.”

  “You there, demon, try this on.”

  Veeran turned, startled at being addressed so directly.

  “He’s not scared?” he whispered to Aaryav.

  “I don’t think salesmen ever are, as long as they make a quick coin.”

  Veeran held the pants the unicorn had given him.

  “Blessed with magic, will grow with your mirakum,” the merchant said.

  “I don’t think that’s happening any time soon,” said Veeran, remembering how much he struggled even to ask for a gust of wind.

  He reached into his pocket and gave a coin to the merchant regardless. He had not used any of Roshna’s fund, and what better place than back to her own villagers?