The farm was an idyllic little place, fields of growing crops, a small pen for a few animals, and a nice barn used for storage. Unfortunately for the farmer the barn was currently housing a demon.

  Owen stared at the Light-eater from much closer than he would’ve liked. It was a mass of glowing tendrils all wrapped in on each other, like a massive knot. Except this knot was taller than he was and about as wide as the wagon they’d come in.

  Owen had been sent in first, Jeran had explained that he just needed to hold the monster down and call for them. At the time Owen had been sure he could do it. But this was much bigger than he’d expected. Much, much bigger. Light-eaters started as little balls of warping air that absorbed sunlight. Sprouting tendrils and growing in size as they did. Typically they were found and dealt with by inquisition seekers, who hunted for things like these. Occasionally one got big enough that several full inquisitors had to be summoned to take care of it. But this one was just so big.

  Owen crept slightly closer to the mass of glowing tendrils. Keeping within an easy dash of the barn’s side door. There was an open skylight in the barn’s roof that cast a wide beam of light down onto the Light-eater. Its form rippled, little rainbows of color washing across it. Owen started, he could… feel it. Similar to the Anger, but calm. The Light-eater was radiating an air of peace around itself, a steady internal rhythm. It was like he could feel it sleeping. He didn’t know spiritual aberrations slept, but examining the sensation he realized that it was in fact sleeping. Soaking up the sunrays coming from above.

  Owen hesitated. It didn’t seem dangerous, it was just trying to rest. Maybe they didn’t need to destroy it.

  He turned to leave and saw Zaid lurking not ten feet behind him. It was a miracle Owen didn’t leap out of his skin.

  “What are you doing here?” He half-whispered, “what about the plan?”

  Zaid cocked his head focused on the Light-eater. “Those are supposed to sense when people are around.” He spoke at a normal volume. He sounded curious, but Owen felt a slight twinge at the words. Zaid continued, looking down at Owen’s crouched posture. “Inquisitor Victor was worried something had happened, so I came to check on you.”

  Owen looked back at the glowing creature and shrugged. “It doesn’t seem dangerous.” He admitted, “It’s not really doing anything. Just kind of… sitting there.”

  Zaid stared at Owen for a long moment, incredulous. “You didn't do your job because it was just ‘sitting there’?”

  Owen looked down, feeling his face flush while Zaid rubbed a hand over his face. They were the same age, and technically the same rank. Where did Zaid get off treating him like a child?

  You aren’t the same rank though

  Zaid was saying something, but Owen wasn’t listening. He saw Zaid in his black uniform with white lining. The cape slung over his shoulder, the mark of the inquisition displayed proudly. Beneath the star was a second, smaller symbol that marked Zaid as an apprentice. The symbol was also on the uncovered shoulder of his uniform.

  You aren’t one of them.

  Owen wasn’t given a uniform. Just plain clothes that fit a bit loosely. Zaid’s mouth kept moving and Owen felt the familiar pulsing of The Anger. It could sense his frustration, and it wanted out.

  He turned and walked towards the Light-eater. Heat rose from his chest as he began to glow. Letting the power rush into him.

  The creature reacted to him. Its softly rippling form shifting suddenly to red. Owen watched the Light-eater’s knotted form start squirming like a pile of snakes. Tendrils slammed into the ground, lifting its bulk from the ground. Owen shot out several hands towards the creature. They flew through the air, extending around the massive creature and coiling around its form. At the same time he conjured a pair that gripped the ground at his feet and he braced. The monster thrashed against Owen’s grip, the force was mostly held in place by the arms wrapped around it, but Owen still felt a lurch and had to lean back against it.

  He turned to Zaid, who was staring at him with a surprised expression. “Don’t just stand there.” The words came out sharper than Owen meant. “Do your job.”

  Zaid didn’t hesitate. He dashed through the side door and called for other to move in. Leaving Owen alone with the Light-eater. It struggled against his grip, thrashing and pulsing violently. It’s colors shifting between shades of red and orange. Owen concentrated on holding it in place. He channeled every once of his power towards that single task. His arms glowed brighter and heat rose from his body, making the air ripple.

  He stepped forward, trying to reset his stance and in a flash the creature hit him with a tendril he hadn't seen. Owen was launched off his feet and slammed into the wall of the barn. Wood crunched and pain forked through his body like lightning.

  The world was a mixture of colors, the smell of smoke, and the combined pain of what he assumed was many broken bones and his body melting and resetting them. A hand pulled him out of the dent he’d made in the wall and guided him to a sitting position. Owen was faintly aware of a voice calling his name, it was muffled at first, but eventually grew clear.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Owen.” Jeran’s voice shouted, “are you ok?”

  Owen nodded, head still swimming. He looked past Jeran and saw that the Light-eater he'd been holding was burning. Flames ran along the monster body and coiled along each of its tendrils. The ground around its base had started to blacken and smoke rose up, partially obscuring it.

  Four figures in black & white uniforms dashed and dodged around the mass of red light as it swung fiery tendrils at them. Owen watched Zedra, one of the other apprentices, take a hit to her side before she could protect herself. Her cry of pain warped in his ears and she hit the ground rolling.

  The screaming, the fires, the figures running every direction, the smoke, like a doorway to the land of the dead. It was everywhere Owen couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see but he had to get through it.

  He heard more cries, more shouting, somewhere outside the building he could hear the clanging of metal, but couldn't see through the smoke. He pushed through into a room, a body lay on the ground in front of him, holding a hammer, drowning in blood.

  Owen’s eyes snapped open. He was still sitting against the wall of the barn. Jeran had rushed over to Zedra, he batted away a tendril that struck for her while Zaid scooped her off the ground. The other Inquisitor, a man named Victor, and his other apprentice slashed at the monster from the other side. Diverting its attention. The Light-eater fought like an animal. Wild, and ferocious. Owen Watched Jeran use his reinforced cloak to sever one of the creature's arms. It fell to the ground and disintegrated into light. A new one grew seconds later. Owen didn’t know if it could do that forever, but the fire around its legs was spreading.

  He pushed himself to his feet. The burning pain of healing made his eyes water but the heat vaporized the tears. This was his fault. He’d been given direct instruction and hesitated. Now Zedra was wounded and it was all the others could do to keep ahead of the monster's quick strikes. Owen focused on the Light-eater and the sounds of combat seemed to fade. A mass of burning light, radiating an alien hatred that Owen could sense coming off it in waves. This was a monster, and it needed to be put down before it could hurt anyone else. The Anger came easily. Time to be useful.

  ***

  Jeran ducked a swing from the Light-eater and slashed his cloak through the arm. It dropped and vanished into rising particles of bright light. He didn’t stop to watch as another arm swung towards him. He leaned into it, letting his cloak drop in front of him before connecting to it. White lines of light crisscrossed the mostly black fabric a fraction of a second before the arm hit. The cloak, now harder than steel, held. His boots scraped as the strike forced him back an inch. Jeran shoved the arm back and released his hold on the cloak. This was by far, the largest Light-eater he’d ever seen. They weren’t able to get this big, something wasn’t right.

  He looked around it to see where Victor and his other apprentice took turns blocking and striking with swords and cloaks. Something in the Light-eater's pattern of attack- Jeran’s thinking was interrupted by another tendril sweeping down at him. He cursed and batted the attack away with his cloak. Something was off, but the Light-eater wasn’t going to give him time to think it over. His hand went for the sword sheathed at his hip- he’d left it in the wagon.

  “Damn it!” He dodged another blow and swung his cloak, severing the arm. He needed to get in close to end this, but the creature had too many arms. He couldn’t reinforce and siphon at the same time. It would leave him exposed. Victor was the only other person here who’d be able to actually kill the thing.

  “Damn it!” he shouted, slashing another tendril mid swing. “This is not a controlled situation, Saharim!”

  Red light streaked past Jeran and tangled with the flailing mass of the Light-eater. He turned back to where Owen had been lying in a daze not long ago. The boy had wrapped several glowing arms around the core mass of the Light-eater. Even through the inhuman glow Jeran watched Owen’s face go taught with effort. Energy pulsed along his arms and they seemed to grow stronger. Lengthening to pin the creature's tendrils against its body. Jeran blinked, then spun back to action.

  Jeran rushed forward and slapped a leather gloved hand against the Light-eater’s form. It was soft, almost gelatin-like in consistency. His hand, now wreathed in dark smoke, sunk into the monster's form. Black lines spread from Jeran’s hand throughout the creature’s body. He was instantly aware of the Light-eater’s nature as a mass of feeling. Some thought aberrations were just incomplete souls. Emotional energy manifested as a semi-living creature that had no true mind of its own. Jeran latched on to that energy, and drew it into himself.

  Siphoning was the second, and most dangerous of an inquisitor's abilities, only taught to fully inducted members. Unlike reinforcement, where you forged a connection with something inanimate and solidified its form. Siphoning connected you to a spiritual entity and used your own soul as a bridge to the void beyond. The power to consume a spirit, deconstruct it to pure energy and cast the remains away.

  Black lines spread like veins inside Light-eater’s enormous body. Inky darkness began consuming it from the inside. The creature shrank into itself, crumpling like paper until it vanished completely, wisps of dissipating blackness curling like smoke from where it had been. Jeran shook himself, mentally flinging off the sensation of absorbing the large creature.

  Around them the barn had long since caught fire, the blaze hadn’t gone fully out of control but it was clear the building was done for without quick intervention. Victor and the three apprentices had escaped while he was siphoning the Light-eater, good. He turned to Owen.

  “Great job kid.” He said, “Let’s get out and see if we can help-”

  Owen was standing stock still, the arms he’d wrapped around the Light-eater now floated about his head, waving gently like reeds in a calm breeze. Jeran grabbed Owen’s shoulder and shook him.

  “Hey, this is a bad place to get battle shock Owen.”

  Owen didn’t respond, he stood staring dumbly at the place where the Light-eater had been, now just a column of flame.

  “Owen!” He shouted, “Owen listen to me! We have to get out of here now!”

  “He’s right there.” Owen said, even over the sound of the barn catching fire Jeran could hear grief in his voice. He shook Owen again, “I don’t know what you’re seeing kid, but the building is about to collapse on top of us. We have to go.”

  Owen turned to look at Jeran’s hand on him. Then he met Jeran’s eyes. Firelight danced in Owen’s naturally light-brown irises. And the glow from beneath his clothing was a distinct red against the orange of the inferno around them. Jeran slung Owen over his shoulder and dashed for the side door. They couldn’t figure out what was going on when they weren’t about to burn to death.