A sign----VII

In Willow shade, a pristine white barrier engulfed every inch of the village. The barrier released blue wisps of energy every time it shook, and small sands of Aeter crumbled off its exterior.

Inside the honey-comb shaped structure, two figures clashed endlessly, exerting an enormous amount of Aeter and pressure, enough to send even gods into distress.

"Give up Fae! You stand no chance against me! " Cackled a vile figure. Every time he moved, a sludge of darkness would engulf the area, dripping of both his lanky body and monstrous weapon.

In his hand, he wielded a scythe, a tool of war forged not by blacksmiths or craftsmen, but molded by his own Aeter and the flesh of his enemies.

The scythe's black shaft was long and scaled, its butt spiked like a demon's tail, and its blade was exaggeratingly long and wide, enough for a grown human man to lay on. Along the entire shaft, slithered pulsing veins that connected to a red fleshy draconic skull. Open mouthed, an arch of crimson darkness extended; a deadly crescent moon.

Just as the mocking voice sounded, the malevolent scythe spilt the air, its attacks threatening to ravage every breathing being in willow shade village. Cyclones of deep red energy chaotically spread out, intending nothing but harm and malice.

Yet no matter how savage, powerful, or fast the attacks were, none of them connected. Not a strand of hair was harmed on any of the sleeping villagers. Not even the demon's mad voice could wake them up from their deep sleep.

Every cyclone was met with a divine golden blade, smiting them from existence. The blades shot forth from a nimbus, tracking down the malicious energy with fervor and returning behind the temple of a woman garbed in white brilliance.

Yet, that was all she could do. And even her meager effort put a strain on her mortal body, drawing a crystalline liquid from her mouth.

Coughing, the woman hunched over clutching her chest in agony. Her ethereal sea of blonde hair was drained of color, white decayed strands rifting in between.

"So long as I draw breath, you shall never know victory…" she muttered weakly. Yet despite the frailty of words, her heterochromatic diamond eyes faced him with blazing determination.

Angered, the demon's face contorted, twisting his triumphant expression into one of desperate fury.

"Then, I will make sure to suck the very breath out of your being!

CHERLINDREA!"

###

Far from the stillness of the night, Willow shade village was now bustling with activity. The fisherman had set up their stalls bartering for their fish, and a caravan from outside the village made its routinely visit and sold a variety of goods right in the middle of the town square.

Fiddling with his ring in boredom, Elias scanned the town with his eyes, every detail was but a look away. The fishermen's rough perlicue, the small beads of sweat forming on the slimy trader's forehead…. All was visible to Elias's enhanced sight.

[See, I told you. One night off won't turn this village into a war zone.]

Looking to his shoulder lazily, Elias nodded his head. He had already been gloated to by the proud owl many times. This was the sixth.

[I get it, you were right. Good job]

Smiling, the owl puffed up her chest and pattered her feet on her brother's shoulder. While grown up, the owl was still quite the mischievous diva.

Having had enough checking for any damage, Elias got up from his place and walked to Teresa's bakery. There, he saw Patrick using a peel to take out some fresh bread from the oven.

"Morning 'Patty' "Greeted Elias with a chuckle.

Patrick looked at Elias with an aggrieved look scrunching up his face. He took the wooden peel high into the air and waved it at his friend.

"You know Elias, you have a very punch-able face."

"Yeah? Take a swing then, P.A.T.T.Y"

Weaving around the swinging wooden peel, Elias burst out in laughter with Eset. While dodging the flimsy attacks, Elias threatened him with top secret information.

"Oh yeah? How about I tell Aunty Teresa that it was her dear Patty who ate the meat pie resting on the window? Hmm Eset?"

[She would be quite disappointed, especially since Patty in on a diet.] The mischievous owl added on provokingly.

The wooden peel stopped inches away from Elias's head as Patrick retracted it. He put the peel down clasping his hands together and putting on the best smile he has, his chubby cheeks squishing his eyes into meaty crescents.

"What can I do for you esteemed sir?"

Elias and Eset laughed with their friend for a while, exchanging small talk and planning for the training session today.

Munching on a steaming loaf of bread, Elias fed some crumbs to Eset as he circled the goods-filled caravan.

In these types of caravans you could find everything from clothes to food to silverware… It was really just a bazar gallery of odd items.

The leader of this caravan was introducing each item with great zeal and exaggeration, making up back stories and drawing up great descriptions all the while the other members showcased the items he was describing.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of this fine village, I present to you the most beautiful dagger your eyes has ever laid eyes on "

###

I watched on as the turbaned vendor's men proceeded to bring forth a sheathed khanjar blade. Its handle was made of brass, with a bear heads pommel curving inwards toward the wielder's hand. While the sheath itself was of platinum color, like the blade, and ornamented with gold, silver and jewels of many kinds.

Unsheathing the weapon, the vendor held it in his palm firmly and brought it close to his mustache, barely brushing it past a few hairs.

Instantly, the khanjar sliced the strands presented in front of its blade with ease and unheard sharpness.

"See that! It is a blade worthy of your most precious belongings, even more!" The vendor exclaimed exaggeratedly.

The crows was awed by his display, gasps were shared all around as people began digging into their pockets to bargain for the khanjar.

'Dad's dagger…'

In the blink of an eye I catapulted forward, crushing the cobblestone beneath me and arriving right under the vendor's nose before he could even utter the beginning of the auction.

"Where did you find this dagger?"

Behind me, the sea of people were still trying to regain their bearings after the wind generated by my speed scattered them apart, ruffling their clothes and throwing some away.

Flustered, the vendor threw his arms around in alarm as he embraced the dagger, afraid I would steal it.

"W-What do you want boy"

"The dagger, where did you find it?" I reiterated, anger slowly crawling its way to my mind.

"Ah yes, t-this dagger ladies and gentlemen is a khanjar, a weapon native to the warriors of Kali. I was offered it as a barter for some supplies many winters ago."

"I want it..." I muttered under my breath as I grinded my teeth, trying as much as I can to control my anger.

"Oh of course you can, for the right price! And so can any of you dear customers, the khanjar goes to the highest bidder."

The vendor tried to seem unperturbed, redirecting his attention to the forming crowd. But I wasn't having any of it.

I grabbed him by his collar, bringing his face right in front of mine as Eset climbed my extended arm and poised her talons to his eyeball.

"You are a liar and a thief. This dagger was my father's and I am taking it with me."

The three men helping the caravan leader unsheathed the swords hanging by their hips and rested them on my neck arrogantly, a mistake that will cost them each an arm.

Believing he has the upper hand, the vendor whispered to me mockingly.

"Leave kid, and I'll let bygones be bygones. Don't, and I'll have Clyde over there cleave you in half."

The vendor motioned with his head to the tallest man, brown of skin, and bald headed with scars marking his face.

[Elias, this is the first time we're facing other humans. What do you want to do?] asked Eset composedly.

"Burn the boa-"

"Elias dear? What's going on?"