Reaching the other side of the enormous canyon, Keshiema leaned against the bridge post and took deep, calming breaths. Worried about her still bleeding arm, she tore a strip of her dress and wrapped the wound tightly. A dizzy spell almost knocked her to her knees as she tried to stand up straight. Carefully she tried again, managing to stave off the dizziness.
Stumbling through the forest, clutching her arm, Keshiema wandered for hours, stopping every so often to feel the wind and change her direction accordingly.
The oaks and manzanita dwindled, overtaken by pines and eventually redwoods the farther she walked. Salty winds stung her dirty tear-stained cheeks. Looking at the blood-soaked wrap on her arm, she worried about the injury. Needing a moment to catch her breath, she leaned against a giant sequoia.
Standing in the pale light of the setting sun, a thought occurred to her. “Hey. You’re a tree.” She touched the rough bark of the giant tree. “Give Dásos a message for me.” Her eyes and hair turned pink. “Tell him he's got a nice,” a soft crashing in the distance caught her ear, distracting her.
Leaving the tree, Keshiema followed the steady, static sound calling to her. The forest floor declined sharply, throwing off her already unstable balance. Losing her footing on the steep hill, she tumbled forward slamming into a tree just before a cliff turned her fall deadly.
With the wind knocked out of her, Keshiema struggled to stand. After catching her breath as best she could, she looked around in awe. Below the cliffs, the dark ocean awaited. Violent waves crashed heavily against the sea stacks below. A far off sandbar sparkled in the waning light of the sunset.
The wind called to her, luring her to a nearby staircase. The narrow, steep pathway looked dangerous but she wanted nothing more than to touch the water. Watching her footing, she took the first step, tightly gripping the old wooden railing.
Stopping regularly to catch her breath and wipe the beads of sweat from her forehead, she managed to make it halfway down the staircase. Taking a break, she held onto her throbbing arm. Dizzy and nauseous again, she took her rest sitting down.
Her chest was tight, making breathing difficult. Pushing past the pain and fatigue, she stood. The wind caressed her cheeks, cooling her burning skin. The crash of the waves soothed her mind.
Trying to take another step, she lost her footing, barely managing to catch herself before falling. Her body ached and heart pounded in her chest. The wind picked up, making it harder to stay on her feet. Inch by inch she made her way to the bottom of the stairs.
The moment her feet finally touched the cool wet sand, she collapsed. Her vision blurred, making standing up again nearly impossible. Squinting her eyes and trying her best to focus she managed to find a beached log. Her lungs screamed for air, angry with the small, shallow breaths she barely managed.
Gentle arms wrapped firmly around her waist. Panicking, she tried to struggle, but her weak muscles refused to cooperate. The intruder leaned into her. Their soft breath brushed her ear as they shushed her and calmly whispered. “it’s alright. I’m here to help.”
Trying to scream proved useless with her dry throat and seizing airway. Slowly, the stranger lifted her injured arm. She sensed them move to the side, still keeping one arm wrapped around her. Carefully, the stranger lifter her arm higher and gently used their teeth to remove her blood soaked bandage. “A harpy wound. This would have happened near the edge of Fotiá's land. How did you make it this far?”
She felt herself spinning. The stranger rotated her to face them. Moving matted sweaty hair from her face, they made a sound of surprise. “Oh, you’re his .” The stranger moved their hand from her waist. She tried to run, but fell as she turned. “You’re quite determined.” The stranger moved around and squatted in front of her, taking her injured arm in both hands. A sudden coldness pressed against the throbbing pain in her arm. The shock overloaded her. The stranger caught her as she slumped over, losing consciousness.
***
A mist slowly consumed the beach as the water went in and out. The hem of Keshiema’s black dress was an inch soaked with salty ocean water. Keshiema could no longer see the shore, so she knew no one could possibly see her. She took comfort in the fact that she was finally completely alone.
Hearing a small splash behind her Keshiema instinctively turned around. She nearly fell backwards when she found a young man standing right in front of her. The only thing keeping her from doing so was the push of the tide. Stranger, even than how quietly he had approached her, was the young man’s appearance. Keshiema noticed first his eyes, as black as an onyx stone. His skin had a touch of gray and looked as though it would be as smooth and soft as silk. The pair of grey black horns sticking out of his slightly shaggy black hair intrigued her the most. And then there were the black feathered wings. The elegant beauty in this young man’s appearance left her speechless.
“What’s your name?” Keshiema asked.
“It's Damien, and what's yours?” He smiled and the air suddenly seemed less dense.
“I think you already know that.” She smiled in return.
Damian laughed lightly. “Of course, what’s your point?”
Keshiema reached her hand up, curiosity filling her eyes. Realizing what she was doing she dropped her hand, looking at the water with embarrassment. Damian smiled at her amused by her self-consciousness. He reached out, put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. Taking her hands, Damien looked deeply into Keshiema’s eyes. “It’s fine Keshiema you know you don’t have to feel uncomfortable around me.”
Unable to find any words. Keshiema nodded. Reaching up again, she settled her hands on Damian’s horns. “What are you?” She asked, not really paying much attention.
I’m a demon Keshiema Damien side saddened by the many times he had answered this question for her.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“What are you?” Her mind was elsewhere, consumed by her thoughts.
Damien stole Keshiema’s hands away from his horns and gently placed them on his shoulders. Placing his hands around her waist. Damian lightly kissed Keshiema’s forehead. “Please listen to me Keshiema. I am a demon. I have always been and always will be a demon.” He spoke softly, never taking his lips from her forehead.
“I must go Keshiema I’m sorry.” Damien backed a step away from Keshiema and spread his wings. The water around him splashed as he took flight. In an instant the waves grew more aggressive. Keshiema realized the danger of getting caught underneath the crushing tide. She tried to run back to dry land. As soon as she took her first step, however, something wrapped around her ankle and pulled her under.
***
The warm sun welcomed Keshiema back to reality. Careful to avoid putting weight on her injured arm, she sat up. Seeing her clothes, she jumped to her feet, panicking. A black skirt and a cropped choker top replaced her white dress. A sturdy set of grippy flats even covered her feet.
“What's wrong?” The same strange voice from the night before came from behind her. The olive-skinned person before her toed the line of feminine and masculine, slightly leaning more towards the latter. Sun bleached hair with dark roots highlighted their large, bright purple, phoenix eyes. They crossed their well-toned arms, waiting for an answer.
“Did you?” Keshiema motioned to her new clothes.
“Oh, yeah, that dress was filthy.” The stranger shuttered at the thought.
“So what!” She shrieked, frustrated at the stranger’s nonchalance. “You can’t just undress somebody!”
“That’s what has you in a fit? I didn’t undress you.” The stranger snapped their fingers. “See?”
Keshiema watched in awe as her outfit morphed into a pair of blue Jean’s and a tank top. “Oh.”
The stranger snapped their fingers again and the skirt and crop top returned. “I like that outfit much better on you.”
“Can I ask your name?” She wanted to thank them properly for helping her, though “help” seemed a bit off.
The stranger gave her a thoughtful look, as though they were deciding whether or not to tell her. “Neró.”
She smiled at their straight to the point attitude. “Thank you for helping me, Neró.”
“Don't mention it. I owe your family a great deal.” Keshiema looked at her feet, feeling slightly uncomfortable with how attractive she found the person in front of her. She had never felt a strong physical desire for a stranger before. And this tension felt unnatural, like an outside force influenced her emotions. “What's your name?” Neró's seductively sweet voice was like a siren's song.
Looking up she saw Neró sauntering closer. “Keshiema.” she quickly looked away.
Displeased by how long her answer took, Neró gave her a sour look as they stopped only a foot away. “Tell me, Keshiema, do I look more like a man or a woman to you?”
Surprised by the question, Keshiema squirmed. “if I absolutely had to choose one, I’d say you look more like a man. But I don’t think you’re actually either.”
Neró smiled, revealing the sharp teeth only Primordials possessed. “you’re so astute.” Neró inched closer as they spoke. “I’ll let you in on a secret.” Their lips stopped just inches away from Keshiema. She wanted to move, but something held her in place. “It's because you’re attracted to men. If you liked women, I’d appear more feminine to you.” they moved a strand of hair behind her ear. “you’re right though, I’m not either one.”
Unable to move, Keshiema closed her eyes. Neró made a pouting sound. “of course, if you desire, I can be a man. I can give you the best time you’ll ever experience.” Their lips touched her ear. “Believe me, I know how to please.”
“No!” Keshiema pushed the primordial away. “I don’t even know you!”
Neró smiled and laughed. “Calm down, it was only a test. And you passed.”
Glaring, Keshiema took another step away from them. “And if I’d failed?" She still felt violated.
“Then I'd have sent you on your way, no love lost, no help given. I don't need to use manipulation to have a good time."
"You're still an asshole!" She retorted, unable come up with anything better.
“Huh, you’re quite the spitfire. No wonder you left Fotiá's territory. You two are way too similar to get along.” Neró walked away as they talked, stopping when they reached ankle deep water. “I, for one, much prefer áeras’ company.”
Not caring to correct them, Keshiema left Neró to their ramblings. While walking away, a sudden calm overwhelmed her. She heard Neró walking up behind her, but did nothing to stay away. Taking hold of her hand, they spoke softly. “As much as I would love to have Dàsos's teleportation or Fotiá's speed, being able to influence emotion has its perks.”
Frustration. Anger. Rage. Keshiema fought to regain control. With fiery red hair and hot crimson eyes she spun around. “Who do you think you are?” 'turning around was a mistake.'
“That's it.” Their enchanting smile extinguished the fire in her heart. “Keep your guard up. Remember that not everyone is your friend.”
Stealing her hand back, Keshiema crossed her arms over herself. “You think I'm not aware of that?” she kept her back to them, afraid to look them in the eye again.
“I think the scars on your soul show you’ve been hurt too many times.” Neró’s words touched a nerve.
“You can see that?” although almost no scars showed on her body, she felt the weight of emotional tragedies baring down on her.
“As clearly as Dásos can hear the trees, or áeras can see the wind.” Heartache filled Neró's voice. “Come sit with me, I promise not to cross any lines. You’ve already made yourself clear.”
Desiring to talk to them, Keshiema listened. The desire felt natural, unlike the emotions Neró compelled her to experience. “I’m searching for someone.” Sitting next to Neró on the fallen log, Keshiema opened up. “I don’t know how long I have.”
Closing their eyes, Neró searched for Keshiema's emotions. “you’re very confused about this person. Are you sure you want to find him?”
Their words stung, but Keshiema continued. “I have no choice. Its life or death at this point.”
Neró gave her a long hard look before speaking again. “Whose life? Yours or his?”
Shaking her head, Keshiema laughed ironically. “Both. His soul is trapped here, and I’m his only chance of waking up. I'm free to leave, but I’ll die if wake up before getting back what's been stolen from me.”
“I see. Well, do you know where he is?”
Putting her face in her hand, Keshiema huffed in frustration. “Not a clue. Fotiá told me to go west. I’m supposed to find the protector of Ethera.”
“Oh, she's a fun one.” The look on Neró's face told a story of passion, but their face soured quickly. “Well, she was before she found love.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“The fastest way to her is through áeras' territory. I’d show you the way, but the hydra is not fond of me getting too close to my boundaries. he'd attack you just to make me angry.” Picking up Keshiema's arm he examined the harpy scars. “much like the harpies did in Fotià's lands.”
Standing, she took her arm back and looked Neró in the eyes. “How do I get there?”
Their sharp pearlescent teeth glistened as Neró smiled. “The winds that led you here will be your guide to ?ther. If áeras desires to speak with you, you should stay. But if she is in a mood, you need to run.” His smile became vicious. “with the wind not against it." He gave her a second to let his words sink in. He wanted them etched into her very being. '?ther is in a cave, there is an entrance within mountainous terrain of áeras' lands. You’ll know it when you get close.”
"Thank you, Neró." She started to walk away.
"Wait, could I ask you something before you go?" She turned to Neró and nodded. They looked sad, almost desperate. "How is Prince Gaap."
She understood the meanings behind the question, but she had to think about her answer. "He's as flirtatious as ever. And still wears the necklace."
Neró seemed happy with her answer. With a gracious smile, Keshiema parted, heading into the wind. Staying on the beached log watching her go, Neró felt a storm of emotions brewing in the young woman. "You made a good choice, Dásos." He patted the log. "I hope she survives."
