Lupus Diabolus

A Reunion in Summinat

            Summinat felt so different from the tree-dominated cities of Avicelis: it felt more like Adaline. It was something that Ifrit was used to, at least until three years ago. However, there was one thing that quickly drew his attention, and it was the population.

            There were hellhounds living in that town, more than even the humans the Lycans as far as Ifrit could tell. Summinat seemed to be more of a hellhound town than a Lycan town. Humans were also living in Summinat and they did not seem to be bothered by the hellhounds, but Ifrit was convinced that the humans might harbor some animosity, just not so apparent that it became disruptive. He felt it unrealistic for the humans and the Lycans to just accept these horned canine people to settle and mingle without some sort of trouble. Even so, seeing how the humans were friendly towards the hellhounds made Ifrit wonder if it the animosity happened a long time ago, and that the hellhounds of Summinat had lived there for several generations.

            Ifrit started to become convinced by that theory when he saw old hellhounds that belonged to two generations above him walking alongside a hellhound cub. The innocence in the hellhound’s cat-like eyes gave Ifrit a clue about their upbringing. They never lived in the Underworld, let alone know what it felt like to survive in the streets and kill before they could even think about love. The hellhound felt a sense of envy, though he ensured that everyone had different lives, and each were unique.

            The town’s guard noticed Rhynsa as soon as the three got off the boat and reach the town’s north gate. For the only Fuzandre on the surface, no one could mistake Rhynsa with anyone else. Not only that, Ifrit noticed that he seemed to be in friendly terms with the town, despite his attitude towards Ifrit.

            “Oh, hey, there, Rhynsa!” said the town guard. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”

            “Yup. Old hound’s giving me something to do,” replied Rhynsa. “Say, where is he?”

            “Where he always is.”

            “Ah, of course. That makes a lot of sense. Anyway, is blondie around?”

            “Blondie? You mean Albert, right? Same reason as you.”

            “Hear some interesting chatters lately?”

            “Just the usual. Problem down south, people having trouble accepting our help, and all the variations of that.”

            “So, nothing’s really changed, huh? Well, it’s nice talking to ya, Johnny. Keep up the good work.”

            “And you too, Rhynsa.” He then turned towards Ifrit and Anubis. “Oh, and welcome to Summinat. Never heard of a Death’s Jackal coming. We don’t see your people that often.”

            Anubis did not understand what the guard was talking about, so Ifrit told what Johnny said and he nodded while smiling. Ifrit simply said, “He don’t speak Tragorian, so excuse him. Thanks.”

            The guard smiled and invited the three into Summinat, where the town’s activity became apparent the closer they got to the town’s center. The chilly air meant the humans wore thick coats, while the Lycans wore something less thick, but still a coat. The hellhounds, specifically those with short fur, wore similarly with the humans.

            Still, despite all this, Ifrit was only interested as to why the town guard’s name was Johnny, like a surface dweller. He then walked faster while still guiding Anubis until he walked side by side with Rhynsa.

            “(Johnny?)” Ifrit asked.

            “(That’s his name),” said Rhynsa. “(Jonathan Kriletz. He’s surface-born, second generation. Family’s been up here since 1865. Unfortunately, can’t speak Hordo. He grew up with other surface-borns).”

            “(That’s long before the uprising. You mean, there were already hellhounds going to the surface since then?)”

            “(Not everyone’s keen with the monarchs, Schelkz. But they chose the peaceful way. They don’t like their rulers they get away, start a new life. It’s a shame not everyone thinks the same way).”

            “(So, their children…never lived in the Underworld?)”

            “(Their children are older than you, so be nice. Just because you’re a former prince with a street cred doesn’t mean you have the rights to talk them down. No one have the same story).”

            “(Yeah, I know that. It’s just…I can’t imagine living your life without ever seeing your own homeland).”

            “(If their homeland’s f****d up, then home’s where they earn their life).”

            Rhynsa got a point. No one wanted to go to a place that they hated. If they thought that living on the surface was easier, then it was their choice. It wasn’t Ifrit’s place to say. All he did would make him sound like a jerk.

            The three reached a place Rhynsa had been walking to: a tea shop. Anubis was the first to notice what the tea leaves smell like. His sharp nose caught different scents of tea, herbs, and spices that the patrons all around them enjoy. It became stronger the moment they got into the shop. He sniffed the air, trying to make sense of the soothing, yet crisp, sense of flavor. It was pleasant and calming.

            “(You can smell them),” said a gruff voice. “(Very interesting).”

            Anubis gasped as he heard the voice from behind him. He wanted to turn, but he was afraid that he might bump into someone else. Instead, he felt the presence moving around him. Anubis could hear thumps of a cane on the wooden floor, along with a furred body brushing against his own. The tea shop wasn’t that crowded that day, judging by the sudden noise reduction the moment they entered the store.

            “(Forgive me. I didn’t know),” said the voice. “(But it makes sense if you act like that. Your body always try to balance itself, especially when one loses their sense of sight).”

            “(H-hi?)” said Anubis, confused.

            “(Just the hound I’m looking for),” said Rhynsa. “(Anarim, meet Anubis Caropus).”

            “(So, he’s the one from the job),” said Anarim. He proceeded to grab Anubis’s hand and shake it. “(I heard rumors of a hellhound prince being imprisoned near Aushagen, so I asked Rhynsa to free you any way he could. I didn’t expect you to be, uh…blind).”

            “(Not really a problem for me. I’ve been seeing the darkness since birth),” said Anubis.

            Anarim then turned towards Ifrit, who was admiring the tea shop when he heard the name ‘Anarim’. His gaze turned towards the old hellhound, and he quickly felt a sense of familiarity with the vulpine hellhound the moment he saw his eyes.

            “(Anarim? As in Anarim Winsel?)”

            “(Have we met?)” asked Anarim.

            “(No, but your grandson mentioned you a lot when we traveled together. I-is Eshdar with you? How about Lilac? Is she…? Oh. Sorry. They’re still travelling with Al. Guess that man doesn’t like travelling alone).”

            Anarim, confused by the younger black-furred hellhound’s claims, turned towards Rhynsa, silently asking for an explanation with his expression. The Fuzandre sighed and said, “(Yeah. We need to talk about him. It’s…complicated).”

***

            “(Ifrit Schelkz?! You?)” said Anarim in disbelief. “(I mean, I don’t mean to be rude, but I thought you…).”

            “(Died? For three years, apparently),” said Ifrit. “(I’m just as surprised when I realized that it’s 1914. I was very convinced that I went to hell when I realized it was all just a dream).”

            “(Hell?)”

            “(Yeah. Fiery inferno, demons waiting to pounce me, a fellow damned soul. Something like that. Kinda strange. Surreal, even. The damned soul strung up on a cross looked just like me, only he looked like a mix between a hellhound and a goat).”

            “(That is…intriguing).”

            “(Then, even more surprising, one of my legs happened to look just like that goat-hellhound me).”

            Anarim looked down and noticed that, despite his intention to disguise it with his pants, one of his legs was a cloven hoof instead of paws. It was hard to determine if it was grafted onto his leg or not, but the fact remained. One of his legs was not his own, let alone a hellhound’s.

            “(Wait a minute. You noticed it all these times and you don’t even think about talking about it?)” said Rhynsa. “(The hell, Schelkz?)”

            “(You expect me to freak out and shout, ‘Oh s**t! I’m a half goat!’ now?)”

            “(Hey, don’t act sassy on me. That’s my job!)”

            “(If you two can stop your banter for a moment?)” said Anarim, turning their attentions back to him. “(Ifrit’s leg does not seem to be a problem for us, but the fact he returned to life is. Your friends saw you being torn to shreds before you fell to the ravine. You cannot possibly survive all that).”

            “(But what’s important is that I’m alive, right?)” said Ifrit. “(Or…something went wrong?)”

            “(No, nothing went wrong. It’s just…I can’t imagine how they’ll react with the news. I can send a wireless to them, but I’ll wait until they contact me first. Calling them now will only compromise our security and their mission).”

            “(Mission?)”

            “(To find your half-brother, Nergora Schelkz. His exploits in Adaline, coupled with the widely known breakdown of command among the demons, are what kept us from being completely taken over during the worst of the Incursion two years ago. We lost Tragoria, yes, but if it weren’t for the two events, Adaline would fall).”

            “(Is it…really that bad)?”

            “(Very, now that they finally resolved the demon situation. We need Nergora Schelkz and his butler alive, so Albert and his travelling companion decided to find him since last year. Rhynsa, on the other hand, decided to help me confirm the rumors of an imprisoned Jackal prince somewhere in Dusdolf as he knew the region well. Thanks to him, we got our first human support in the form of Aushagen).”

            “(The demon hunters?)”

            “(Albert’s still working on it, which is why he’s very busy. As for you, Anubis Caropus, I know things haven’t been well with you lately).”

            “(It’s…an understatement),” said Anubis as he remembered the horrible things done to him.

            “(I won’t pry further. It’s better that way. Anyway, I know you’re eager to do something, but right now, all I can tell is that I’m glad you’re here, Anubis. You’re free to go around the town with Ifrit. I need to talk to Rhynsa).”

            “(I’d…prefer I stay and smell the pleasant air),” said Anubis. “(You don’t mind, do you?)”

            “(If you want, I can teach you how to appreciate the teas),” said Anarim with a smile. Then, he turned to Ifrit and said, “(How about you?)”

            “(I’d settle with waiting for the others to go back. I…still need to think about what I missed. Is there a place I can stay?)”

            “(Use Eshdar’s place. He left me his keys. Don’t want to lose it during a fight. Rhynsa knows where it is).”

            “(Uh…is he still there?)”

            “(Yes, he is, Rhynsa. Look, why don’t you just make things right with him? It has been awhile. Ifrit might make it easier for you).”

            “(He’ll just dismiss it as a sick joke. He knows Fuzandres can influence someone’s mind).”

            “(You haven’t drunk any blood for a while).”

            “(He won’t believe it).”

            Anarim sighed. “(Maybe it’s time you start thinking about making it right. If he’s unwilling, you need to do it first).”

            Rhynsa sighed, still reluctant in doing what he did. Ifrit did not understand any of it and assumed that the Fuzandre was talking about someone else. But, he had an idea who Rhynsa got a beef with.

            After leaving Anubis with Anarim, the two walked through the town until they reached the residence area, which was a block of brick townhouses and two-stories apartments. They walked among the brick buildings until they reached a red brick townhouse with a small little garden on the back. Across the building were small stores selling groceries along with a pub and inn that joined with the post office beside it, separated by what seemed to be an open-door garage with a car inside.

            “(Well, this is it),” said Rhynsa as he walked through the front gate. “(Eshdar’s home).”

            “(Who lives here now? You don’t seem to be friends with him).”

            “(Yeah. So, why don’t you walk first?)”

            Ifrit wasn’t sure who was waiting for him, considering that Rhynsa wasn’t very specific and the fact that he tried not to mention his name. That quickly changed when Ifrit opened the front door and into the house where he quickly saw a familiar face.

            It was lying near the stairs going upstairs when it stood up upon hearing the front door clicked open. That’s when it noticed Ifrit walking into the home, also noticing it. The black-furred hellhound instantly knew it was a Barghest, the dog-like lesser demon with six blue eyes hidden under a canine skull mask in addition to being furless, making them look a little freakish compared to a regular surface world dog, even if he was similar to a greyhound in appearance.

            This Barghest, however, was not just any Barghest. It was one that Ifrit personally knew.

            “(S-Sam?)” said Ifrit, surprised to see his old friend and companion.

            “(Ifrit? Am I…is this a dream?)” said Sammael, the Barghest. “(No, I can’t simply go loony after being cooped up inside this home).”

            He turned to see Ifrit again, and the Barghest walked and sniffed him. That’s when he realized he wasn’t dreaming, and he took a couple steps back as he looked at Ifrit with wide eyes.

            “It’s…it’s you. Ifrit, it’s really you….”

            “Hello, there Sammael,” said Ifrit with a toothy smile. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

            “Well, I’m a Barghest. We’re naturally long-lived.”

            The smiling and surprise quickly turned into disbelief as the Barghest jumped back and growled, apparently sensing something was wrong with Ifrit.

            “No, you can’t be Ifrit,” he said. “I saw him die on that bridge. There is no way you’re him! You’re…far more sinister.”

            Then he was surprised when Rhynsa walked into the room, apparently not expecting the Fuzandre to be there.

            “Sinister how, exactly?” asked Rhynsa. “And by the way, it’s nice seeing you up and well.”

            “How about explaining how this…Ifrit smells like a demon? I am not aware of a demon who can take someone else’s appearance, but considering them, I won’t rule out the possibilities.”

            “Sam, it’s me, Ifrit. (Don’t you recognize me)?”

            “(I grieved your death and blamed this Fuzandre for everything and now you came back after three years like nothing’s happened? I can’t accept the fact that you’re alive, not after moving on).”

            “(Nope, you haven’t moved on),” said Rhynsa. “(Can’t do so if your allegiance is forced. In any case, he’s Schelkz. Yeah, he’s a bit confused with our progress, but I can tell he’s the same hound who I challenged three years ago. And yeah, I know you haven’t forgiven me for that day).”

            Sammael looked at Ifrit intently, apparently trying his best to believe that his master was back. But, after a while, the Barghest stopped, then his expression turned happy.

            “(I know this is too good to be true, but I guess I’ll stick with it. If anything, I missed you, Ifrit. I really do).”

            “(I’m sure you are, buddy),” said Ifrit. “(But just for the record...you and Rhynsa…).”

            Sammael turned and glared towards Rhynsa, who could only sigh and walk out of the house muttering, “(I knew this is a bad idea)”. But before he left, Sammael said, “(Wait).”

            Rhynsa stopped in his place.

            “(I know we have our differences, and we clearly have problems towards each other),” said Sammael. “(But you have been doing your best to help the hellhounds despite your misgivings. And I guess I have more than enough time to be convinced to understand your perspective regarding my previous masters).”

            “(Well, I’m glad you did),” said Rhynsa.

            “(That doesn’t mean I need to be nice with you. I haven’t forgiven you for kicking me with a cleansing weapon).”

            “(Just don’t eat my dreams and we’ll be fine. Let’s just keep it that way. Anyway, I’ll leave you two alone. It may be a short time for you, Barghest, but for us mortals, there are three years unaccounted for. And Schelkz…I’ll see you later).”

            And with that, Rhynsa walked out of the room, leaving the two alone in Eshdar’s home. Sammael was supposed to feel elated and happy after seeing his blood-bound master back, but he was certain that Ifrit died on that bridge. He witnessed the hellhound torn to shreds as his grip with Lilac was abruptly lost by a shot from the other side of the bridge. Lilac still bore the scar of the bullet, even after new fur grew around it. While no one blamed her, the scar was a reminder that her love was lost.

            Then more than three years later, the same Ifrit returned, apparently recovered from the fatal wounds and fall. There was no way he could’ve survived. Even if he was, he would look like a living corpse and, as a demon, Sammael knew that it wasn’t that far from the fact. Demons had no respect for the dead. In fact, death meant s*****y.

            Ifrit also knew Sammael was cautious around him. He was aware of his own fatal wounds, but still had no idea on how to explain his miraculous survival. So, he changed his way of approach.

            “(Sam, you don’t need to believe that I’m Ifrit),” said Ifrit, though it pained him to say that. “(I am aware of my last moments, though it felt almost like a very long sleep. I…don’t know how I survived that, let alone the chances of meeting with Rhynsa of all people).”

            “(I can only offer you one explanation),” said Sammael. “(But if that is the case, then you’re not exactly alive).”

            “(I…don’t like the sound of that).”

            “(Believe me, I don’t want you to be given this fate, but I’m afraid unless there is any other explanation, this is the only one I can offer).” Sammael took a deep breath, readying himself for the explanation. “(Ifrit…the hellish incursion has been going on ever since your death. Despite all the preparations, the surface world is not as united, and in just a couple of months since your ‘death’, the Tragorian region fell to the enemy’s hands).”

            “(So, I heard),” confirmed Ifrit.

            “(And they were going to march to Dusdolf and Adaline, unopposed, if it wasn’t for the efforts of the demon hunters in protecting Dusdolf and an unexpected factor: a break in their line of command).”

            “(I heard that too. Apparently, a demon wreaked havoc among the demons and hellhounds that their advances were halted to deal with this demon. The demon massacred a lot of their soldiers).”

            “(Which made them desperate, and that desperation turned to necromancy, a dark, demonic magic to reanimate the dead. While the opposition managed to recover to fight the hellish army to a standstill, the undead soldiers became a menace on their own. They were nigh indestructible, had no pain, and they were very persistent).”

            “(When…did this happen?)”

            “(Almost a year ago…and they hadn’t stop).”

            “(Then, that means I’m…).”

            Sammael nodded grimly as Ifrit realized what he was implying. But, just before Ifrit could even process the revelation that he was an undead, there was a commotion and an unearthly roar outside, surprising both of them.

            “(Oh, no. Not again!)” exclaimed Sammael. “(The town barely recovered from the last one!)”

            “(Demons?)” said Ifrit short.

            “(Yeah. Mindless lesser demons. Summinat has had attacks like these for a while, but it has been two years since the last one! Wait…you’re here, and…).”

            “(Sam, I don’t like what you’re implying).”

            “(And I don’t like it, either, so I hope it’s just a coincidence).”

            Sammael ran towards the door and opened it himself. However, before he continued, he turned and said, “(Please don’t force my hands, Ifrit. I don’t want to see you die again).”

            Sammael’s remarks made it clear what his standing with the Barghest. The demon was still bound to the surface world because there was still another Schelkz alive and well out there, but that also mean he had no obligation to protect Ifrit as he was made to do. Ifrit soon realized that if he was an undead raised by the demon and happened to be the cause of the demons rampaging in the town, then Sammael would be forced to do the very thing he never wanted.

            Ifrit must die again. This time by him.