Slish would much rather not fight, but the little girl wasn’t giving him much choice.
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” He cried, leaping from the branch of one Goliath tree to another as a tendril-like appendage cracked the bark where he had stood moments before. He was certainly glad that there were a lot of branches to choose from in this forest, otherwise she would have caught him long before.
“She”, naturally, referred to the seemingly harmless little girl who was hanging by her hair from a tree limb not far from the one he was currently standing on. Slish guessed she was some sort of demon, considering her ability to grow and manipulate her hair at will. No normal human could suspend themselves with their hair, no matter how powerful a mage they may be.
“And why would I do that?” She asked him, her menacingly coy tone at odds with her high pitched voice- the exact sort of voice you would expect from a little girl, with the tone you would expect from a demon toying with their human prey. “Then I would have no-one to play with!” She cried, swinging herself forward and sending a tendril of hair to grasp at him.
He leaped backwards, landing on yet another tree limb. ‘Guess it can’t be helped’ he thought, ‘I’ll have to fight her’. He summoned a flame in his hand. Seeing it, the demon child hesitated, remaining suspended between two thick branches.
“That’s no human flame,” she noted, looking at the flames shrouding his hand. “You’re a half-demon, aren’t you?” She grinned, an act the boy in front of her found greatly disturbing.
“So?” He asked, punching the air in front of him, sending the sphere of flames flying through the air towards her. She swung effortlessly out of the way.
“So nothing.” She said in her coy tone. “It was merely an observation.” She launched another tendril of hair at him. This time, he let it land, grabbing onto it as he was hit.
“That wasn’t very bright” He called at her, setting his hands – and her hair – ablaze. Her shrill cry pierced the forest- she clearly had more feeling in her hair than most. In her moment of distraction, Slish released his hold on her hair and leaped forward, landing a solid, flaming punch on her cheek. Stunned, she lost her grip on the tree branches and fell to the forest floor some thirty feet below.
“Damn… you…” She wheezed as he landed next to her. His brown eyes now had slit pupils; his fingernails had lengthened to claws. The flames enshrouding his hands were the same bright shade of orange as his spiky hair. As a half-demon, he must let his demonic half show to use his father’s gifts.
He wordlessly raised his fist, and equally silently brought it down on her chest, crushing her ribs and scorching the flesh. He set the body ablaze- the funeral pyre of a girl possessed by a demon.
Slilesh watched the flames consume the body. He never liked killing. He didn’t even enjoy fighting. He tried to avoid conflict if possible, but it seemed inevitable- bandits, hostile demons, highwaymen, petty thieves, feral demons and wild beasts – all intent on attacking some poor soul. Towns weren’t any safer – thieves in the streets and the occasional demon attack- and the people themselves. Nobody likes a half-demon, it seems. So in order to protect himself, he fights and kills. Often he has little choice. He learned from a young age that beating an aggressor back only makes them want to kill you more. Just because you spared them doesn’t mean they’ll spare you.
These thoughts brought him back to his most recent foe- a little girl possessed by some sort of spirit demon. She must have come into prolonged contact with the object the demon inhabited-most likely a hair clip of some sorts- and been completely possessed. Judging by the lack of hair accessories, the demon had made a full transition into the girl. There was no way to force it to relinquish the body without killing them both. Now, at least, the girl’s spirit was free.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered to the flames. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, and hope your death was painless. Now, at least, you’re free.”
The young Cambion could have sworn he had heard a quiet “Thank you” carried by the wind, and smiled. The girl’s soul must have been released to the afterlife. He stood up, and began walking away from the dying embers of the pyre, followed by a lone, floating spark.
Slish stopped in his tracks. He glanced back over his shoulder. Yep, there it was, defying typical fire behaviour. A lone, bright spark of flame, floating in the air. It stopped under his gaze, bobbing up and down in the air, almost as if it were waiting for his reaction.
“Hello?” he tried tentatively.
“Hello!” Came the bright, bubbly reply. “Nice to meet ya! My name’s Becky! What’s yours?”
