Tales of demons and gods

“Hurry up, slow poke,” happily teased a young woman. “We need to make it to the first marker before dark.” A second woman walked slowly behind her and breathed heavily. “Where are you getting all this energy from,” she questioned breathlessly. “Usually you're the one who follows me. Why do you want to be the leader all of a sudden?” The first woman shrugged her shoulders as she stood on a snow covered stump. Her bright aquamarine eyes looked around, making sure there were no signs of danger. Her lively, shoulder-length dark brown hair stuck out from under her black toque. Her high cheeks glowed red from the winter chill while her thin, pink lips held a smile. Her red winter coat, black ski pants and black boots kept her average build warm. She adjusted her large pack as her thick, black gloves covered her hands. The second woman caught up with her. Her copper red hair was seen from under her dark blue toque. Her deep blue eyes watched her friend intently. She crossed her arms which

“If you put off dress shopping any longer, I’m going to write a nasty rumor about you in my column,” Crystal said, sliding into the booth next to me. It was after school, and, for once, I’d taken the time to hang out with my only friends.  “I can’t go tonight,” I said. “I’m busy.” “Jess,” she whined like a child. “You promised you’d go before prom, and it’s two weeks away.” “Which means we have two weeks to shop,” I said, drumming my nails across the sticky table. Bringing the farm to live in another world She glared at me, and I sighed. “I promise I’ll go, just not tonight. Please.” Robb joined us with burgers as Crystal flicked her tongue over her lip piercing. “But I want to go tonight.” “I’m busy.” “With what?” she asked. “You’re always busy, and you don’t even tell me why.” I sighed. “It’s nothing, really.” Just searching for my parents and hesitating to ask for your mother’s help.  “Then ditch it,” Crystal said, and Robb groaned.  “Leave it alone, Crystal,” he said, biting int

I burst into my father’s office, shadows trailing after my human form. My rage controlled my body, and the double doors leading into his office nearly split off the hinges.  His glasses fell off his nose as he shot up from his desk. “Eric?” “What have you been keeping from me?” I shouted, slamming my hands on his desk.  He straightened, whisking his hand through the air. The air condensed with a silence spell. “Keep the ruckus down; Mindy could hear you.” “I don’t goddamn care about Mindy.” The dangling ceiling lights swung against my raising aura. “Since when has there been a third descendant?” My father’s knees gave out, and he collapsed in his chair. His face paled, and he hunched over as if he were about to vomit. “Who told you?” he whispered.  My gut churned. So it was true; she wasn’t Darthon.  “I found out myself,” I said, curling my fingers into a fist. My heated fingers, like sparks of fire, pressed against my palm. “I met her.” He lifted his face, his brown eyes blank. “Eric,

Thor hurried back to the Legion’s barracks at the crack of dawn, luckily arriving before the day’s training began. He was winded when he arrived, Krohn at his side, and he ran into the other boys just as they were waking, beginning to file out for the day’s assignments. He stood there, gasping, more troubled than ever. He hardly knew how he would make it through the day’s training; he would be counting down the minutes until the night’s feast, until he could warn the King. He felt certain the omen came to him so that he could deliver the warning. The fate of the kingdom rested on his shoulders. Thor ran up beside Reece and O’Connor as they made their way out to the field, looking exhausted, and began to line up. “Where were you last night?” Reece asked. Thor wished he knew how to respond—but he didn’t really know where he had been himself. What was he supposed to say? That he had fallen asleep outside on the ground, on Argon’s mountain? It made no sense, not even to him. “I don’t know,

"A month. One month of relatively active life. I’m afraid, this is all you’ve got left," the doctor removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. I knew of course that his profession would make anyone a cynic. And still he didn’t seem to be delivering the news lightly. The doctor shook his head, his hair gray before his time. "Yes, a month," he pursed his lips, hesitating, then blurted, "It’ll be the question of what runs out first: your health reserves, your will to live in ever-growing agony—or your ability to finance therapy and medications.  Konjiki no wordmaster I hope you’ll excuse me for being so blatant. I’m very sorry. Normally, we don’t inform our patients in case of a Class A diagnosis. We contact their relatives, but you don’t seem to have listed any. What a shame. I don’t think that spending the next month in and out of surgeries will be worth your while. We just can’t do anything for you. An inoperable brain tumor is indeed the end of th

For the next five days I was really busy. The feeling of time slipping through my fingers pushed me harder than any number of motivational coaches. Had I lived my whole life as if every day was the last, I’d have been driving a Bentley before I turned thirty. For a start, I raked together whatever cash I had. That included collecting a couple of pretty well written-off debts. One of the debtors was reduced to hiccupping, amazed at my aggressive stance. It didn’t amount to much—about three grand give or take, of which four hundred and a whole precious day were wasted on repeat exams in a private clinic. All they did was confirm the initial diagnosis. The only difference was that their doctor insisted that I be admitted straight away for some proper care and a possible few extra weeks—or months—to live. I told him very nicely that I’d think about it, then legged it. Vultures. I splurged five hundred more on a casino. Actually, I was on the point of winning a couple grand, but that was