Page 5 of The Demon of the Wood

He frowned. “That’s too far away. I will go mad, thinking about those eyes of yours all day. Come to the tavern tonight.”

She heard her uncle and cousins laughing, and she turned her head, looking behind her anxiously.

“Come on,” Gregory said, “sneak out when he’s in bed. I’ll be there late, waiting for you.”

“Okay,” she agreed, more to get him to leave than thinking it through.

He leaned down and planted a quick peck on her cheek, then turned and rushed down the hill, towards the village, turning at the end of the road to wave to her. She waved back, then touched her cheek where he’d kissed her, smiling.

two

Kaemon

Windsweptthroughthetrees, gliding over the bare limbs of oak and brushing across Kaemon’s wings like a caress. He stretched his wings out further, closing his eyes as he took in the sensations of the forest, his home. It smelled of pine. The sounds of birds chirping filled the stiff, cool air. He walked on, his boots crunching in the snow. He held his bow in front of him, ready for whatever he may encounter.

He halted as something rustled in the woods, his hearing homing in on each sound, taking it in and processing it quickly. A squirrel scurried up a tree in the distance, the sound of his paws on the bark soft and sure. A fox moved about in the snow, foraging for food. And to Kaemon’s left were hooves. A deer. He turned slowly and saw a buck twenty yards away. He shifted the bow up to eye level, pulling the string and arrow to his cheek, slowing his breath. Kaemon was a predator, his body primed for hunting without weapons. But he preferred the cleanness and swiftness of using a bow.

The buck stilled, looking about slowly, and Kaemon drew in a breath, letting the arrow fly with his exhale. The deer startled and fumbled to the ground, crashing into the white covered earth. Kaemon trotted over, examining the creature, saying a quiet thanks for its sacrifice as he ran a hand over its fur. Since he’d begun living in the forest, he’d become intimately acquainted with the balance of nature, and how the hunted and hunter provided for every living part of the woods.

Kaemon slung it over his shoulders and trekked back to his cabin. The woods gave way to a clearing with a wide calm stream winding alongside it. He cleaned the deer away from his cabin, keeping the portions that would give him nourishment and taking them to the smokehouse, then prepping the hide to sell. The antlers and other bits would get a good price at the market as well.

Kaemon cleaned up, brushing his overlong hair, the dark curls tangling with his horns. He groaned. Asking for favors made him itch, but he couldn’t cut it himself and Aife knew how better than anyone. He packed herbs from the forest into his bag and slung it across his shoulder. He needed to go to Orc Haven anyway, so he might as well take her some items as a bribe.

He stepped out into the center of the clearing, crouching for a moment, then shooting into the sky and buzzing through the tree line, until he settled on the air. Gliding over the forest, he gazed down at the river and lakes and mountains around him. It had been years since the Hunters Guild had captured him, years of flying every day, often for hours, but he would never take it for granted again. He remembered all too well those dark days in the cave, trying to care for his wings, trying to keep the muscles strong enough to carry him while he wasted away in that cell. It had taken him months of practice and care to get back to flying and a year for him to do it for long periods of time.

Farmlands stretched below him now, huts and houses sprinkled about, and some grand estates that stood atop rolling green hills. Sheep and cattle wandered aimlessly in the fields, and deer darted out of the trees to the tall grasslands. He could see, off in the distance, a gathering of buildings and knew it was Orc Haven. There were other villages and towns he could go to, larger ones with greater trade and items, but humans and elves populated them, and he could never be certain if he would be welcome or if he would be hunted. It wasn’t a bet he wanted to take. Other demons could go to those towns, but in groups. He had no one to go with. So, he stuck to Orc Haven, the primary hub for Orcs to trade. Orcs cared more about commerce and minding their own business than if a demon was in their midst, so he was safe there.

He landed a mile out of the village, having learned long ago that if a Hunter was there, or if any skittish creature saw a demon as large as him, flying against the sky, He may get shot. No one had downed him yet, but the pain and healing were more than he cared to deal with.

Carts rolled in from the western road, into the town center where the market was humming with all kinds of beings. A few humans and elves, and goblins working in the forges with the orcs, or carrying in crops from the nearby farms.

A few of the orcs he often bought from nodded to him, and others gave wary looks and a wide berth as he walked through the market, his wings tucked nicely in to not knock anything over. He stopped at the general store, picking up flour and other basics, trading in the hides, furs, and other items he had. Then he made his way to the best watering hole in town, The Tipsy Tavern.

“Kaemon!” Aife exclaimed joyfully as she slid a pint of beer down the counter to a huge orc male.

Kaemon gave her a brief nod of his head, ducking it quickly as he made his way to the bar and sat down. He didn’t like the looks he received from the greeting. People’s eyes always lingered a moment longer on him. Surprised or suspicious because he was a demon, he was never certain.

Aife poured him a pint and waved off his protestations. “It’s on me.”

She reached over and tousled his curls, frowning, her one sharp tooth coming up from her lips as she did.

“You’re a mess,” she said, with affection. “Want me to trim it?”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“Your messy hair is bothering me more than cutting it would.”

He rolled his eyes, internally enjoying this old song and dance. “If you insist.”

She gave a nod of her head, her red hair sliding over her shoulder in a long sheet as she did. Aife had unique features compared to many of the orcs, having half human heritage. She was smaller than them, though still tall and strong by human standards. The top of her head came up to Kaemon’s chin, where most orcs averaged his height or taller. Her eyes were an amber, common enough for orcs, but brighter and bigger than most.

She brought him a plate of food and he reached for his coin purse, but she shook her head. He gritted his teeth, but she only flashed him a wicked grin, running off to aid another customer. Taking the coins out, anyway, he dropped them in the tip jar. He loved her generous heart, but hated her charity. Aife and her partner, Jorah, had been the ones who found Kaemon after he escaped from his captors. He’d been too frightened to leave the cave they found him hiding in, but they brought him food, supplies, medicine, and, most importantly, company. They had given him so much, yet their generosity never ran out. It made him crazy with annoyance at times. How could he ever make it up to them?

He sipped on his beer as he took in the room. It was the noon hour and several families sat at large tables. He discretely watched them interact, trying to tamp down the surge of emotion that flooded him. Demons were social creatures, living in a tight-knit colony. He could remember clearly the meals with his family and his colony. Everyone crowded around a large table, the kids teasing each other and eating hastily so they could play games with one another. He looked away from the families and down at his beer, the pit of his stomach dropping. In dark moments, jealousy and loss almost consumed him. But it did no good to dwell on it. Instead, he pushed it all down, trying to muster thankfulness for his life and freedom.

A large, dark green hand clapped him on the shoulder, and he jolted to stay upright on the stool. A grin spread across his face as Jorah came into view. Jorah was an imposing figure. Tall and strong, with heavy eyebrows and a down turned mouth, he appeared frightful. Yet, he was the kindest male Kaemon knew.

“When are you going to move into town?” Jorah asked, pulling up a seat next to him as he ate.

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