The Tale of Daemonica

Destiny Awaits

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   She dreamed strange dreams, full of blood and death, dreams of betrayal and battle, of love and hope, which is offered in full force in the darkest moments for those who think they can no longer fight. And like a tiny thread, a chorus of voices weaved through these scenes, whispering and shouting at the same time. They whispered excitedly about a hero who would rise from the unknown into dark times, whose arrival would soon become a nightmare for all of Western civilization.

An ancient shadow, whose fingers are long and greedy enough to capture the hearts of good but weak people, awakens to subject anyone who succumbs to his wicked intentions. It is an evil that compels its servants, wittingly or not, to betray their closest friends, loves and relatives alike, deftly poisoning their hearts with envy and betrayal. But behind the noble words about power and freedom, there is only damnation...

Daemonica was unclear at the time whether these were shards of the past or some random snatches from the future. But she was clearly aware that she was in a kind of dream again.

The mixture of voices gradually merged into one Voice, making it easier to understand what it was saying as it spoke. Against the backdrop of its words, all the scenes were slowly shrouded in darkness, which eventually engulfed Daemonica herself along with them.

'Darkness will come from the South, slowly, unrecognized, and therefore even more dangerous. Like a plague, it secretly permeates everything, leaving nothing untouched. The moment she becomes the one she's supposed to become, her journey begins or ends before it has begun. Everything is uncertain, nothing is given in advance.' The strange Voice seemed to wrap around her and come back again in waves. It was strange, but not unpleasant. Meanwhile the Voice went on:

'This heroine's destiny rests on just one decision and perhaps many more that may come after it. On her pilgrimage, she could bring light into many hearts. They might even write up poems for her and sing sweet-sour songs about her because she would inspire the best that lies within people. If she would wish to, they would follow her enthusiastically, but only to subsequently leave her. She would witness the Western King winning his toughest fight, in which she would be standing by his side if she would choose so. However, she would pay a high price for it every day. In the end, she would always find the answers she has spent so long trying to find, but the truth would only hurt her even more than knowing nothing. She can not succeed without help.'

Again, the Voice disintegrated into excited whispers all around her, like a river wrapping around rocks and branches in its path. After a while, the distraught voices calmed and, like the water, coalesced back into one stream of words, which, however, were already reaching her from a greater distance, as if they were not intended for her to hear.

' You will stay to keep an eye on her, help her and protect her. You won't leave her, especially if she thinks she's abandoned by everyone. You mustn't disappoint!'

The last sentence came off almost as a threat, followed by a heavy silence.

'So be it,' a familiar voice broke the silence. But the other voices rustled in disharmony, arguing among themselves, and the words and cries splintered against each other, like drops of water in rough seas crashing against rocks in waves. Out of nowhere, however, the voices calmed after a while and merged again into one as if blurred vague stream of words, where, however, one every word sounded as sharp and inexorable as the raindrops drumming on the roof of the house into which it flows.

'If she chooses to go the other way, she will be forgotten and lost forever. But there is so much more at stake! We must not fail. This time he is too strong.'

'I know.' There came a brief answer. The voices fizzled one last time, and now there was silence around Daemonica. A gentle whiff of sea-scented air blew in through the seemingly deserted darkness. A voice whispered close to her ear, melodic but foreign, a voice she knew.

'When your time comes, listen to your heart, let it decide for you.' The breeze seemed to be gently ruffling Daemonica's hair now. Then it tenderly slid down her neck and continued to her shoulder in such a sensual way that she held her breath in anticipation. But the voice began to whisper in her other ear again.

'Now forget and sleep. I give you one last peaceful sleep. No matter what comes or how you decide, you are now asleep. Sleep...'

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   And so she slept and forgot. But once, much later, there was to come a moment when she remembered again. Now it was all hidden deep in her heart. And when she opened her eyes again, she was close to the biggest decision of her life and the event that was the reason she could no longer sleep peacefully for all the following days.

But before Daemonica opened her eyes completely, there was a voice to her right, coming from a place that seemed close, all too close, she thought.

'You seem to be awake.' Daemonica winced subconsciously, trying hurriedly to find her sword. At the same time, she looked in the direction the familiar voice was coming from. She saw a man she knew leaning casually against a nearby tree. His dark robes reflected the rays of sun already high in the sky, in strange golden flashes. Sorcerer watched her from under the hood with his dark eyes, as if trying to guess what she was thinking. It's as if he's trying to reveal her most secret thoughts.

Daemonica couldn't stand his gaze and tried to get to her feet, even though she felt very weak. At the same time, she was still trying in vain to find any weapon without even stopping to watch him out of the corner of her eye. Slowly, the terrifying events of last night began to come back, and she wasn't in the least sure she could trust him at all.

Sorcerer did not look away, but slowly moved his right hand in the direction of the tree he was leaning against, behind whose trunk she could not see. The next moment, in one smooth motion, he threw something at her. She would have been willing to swear she saw a gleeful grin on his face, as always hidden under his hood. Daemonica caught the object with an incomprehensible amount of luck. 'Here...your sword. It wouldn't be of any use to me anyway.' There was no need to see his face to capture the undisguised irony in his voice.

She ignored him. In the meantime, she was still trying to understand, how she had managed to catch the sword. It was clear to her that this was far more of a coincidence than her questionable abilities. She hefted it, but immediately looked back at Sorcerer, watching him in anticipation of what would happen next. He just did the same for a while. But his gaze seemed to see all that was going through her mind. She felt Sorcerer's sense of all the fear still gripping her heart. He read the confusion, anger and shame in her thoughts, because she hadn't been strong enough last night.

After a while, he spoke in a rather calm but decisive voice, which was not a plea but an order: 'Pull yourself together soldier. The beast is on the move. We have to stop it. We have little time and only one attempt.' That worked. She took the sword he had given her and followed Sorcerer, who was already on his way to where two horses were standing ready. Daemonica wasn't sure how he managed to get hold of them, but Sorcerer swung into the saddle of one of the horses without undue delay. Daemonica quickly mounted the other, but before following Sorcerer, who was waiting for her wordlessly nearby, she took her first glance at the sword he had given her.

It most certainly wasn't her sword. This sword looked ancient and had a black edge that was decorated with unfamiliar markings. Daemonica bent closer to the sword to get a better look at the signs, at which point she could have sworn she heard a whisper in unfamiliar language, but it soon stopped. Perhaps the sword spoke to her in the voices of those, whose lives it had ever taken. But perhaps she was just deluding herself.

Daemonica wanted to ask Sorcerer about the uncommon sword. But when she arrived closer to him, and was already opening her mouth to ask her question, Sorcerer just looked her in the eye and, in a tone that allowed no further questions, said: 'Destiny hates lingering.'

Then he spurred his horse and headed in the direction where the Xix Desert glowed red on the horizon.

And Destiny waited impatiently. For you can't avoid Destiny once it's already expressed an interest in you, no matter how well you zigzag.