Demon Hunters

Wartime VI

"Why didn't you run away?!" Jonah cried, simultaneously grateful and angry at the young man.

Jean didn't answer, merely shaking his head. And really, he didn't need to. Jonah now understood the sentiment – what it was like to want to protect someone. And this very same feeling was currently welling up inside him as well, thought morphing into an altogether different form: molten, unbridled rage. Suddenly, all that mattered to Jonah was saving Jean. He got up to his feet, ignoring the searing pain radiating from his chest. The world seemed to be running in slow motion: the demon was preparing to charge at Jean, while the young man stood motionless before his imminent demise. Tapping into strength he didn't know he had, Jonah sprinted forward, managing to catch the accelerating demon. With no regard to the consequences, the demon hunter grabbed the hilt of his sword and yanked it violently sideways.

The demon bellowed in pain – evidently, Jonah had managed to hit something important. Both the hulking monster and Jonah were sent stumbling. Once again, Jonah ignored the calls from his body to stop and jumped on the demon's broad back. At this point, the man was beyond any rational thought because of his rage, and lacking a plan, he drew his hunting knife, starting to cut into the demon's back with wild abandon. The creature roared in impotent rage, as its arms didn't quite reach the man tearing into its flesh. Finally, it started rolling over, forcing Jonah to jump aside. At that moment, Jonah regained his faculties, and realized the hopelessness of his situation: his sword was stuck to the monster's back, and the knife in his hand was next to useless against this massive creature. Both his and Jean's deaths seemed all but certain. However, at the very last moment, fate stepped in. As the demon shifted its massive bulk to roll over, the sword still stuck to its chest moved as well, and against all odds, it shifted in such a way that it managed to cut the demon's heart. Immediately, the creature of darkness realized its error – far too late. As soon as the cold steel of the sword had cut the demon's heart, it had been doomed. The demon never got back up to its feet, merely letting out one last, pathetic growl. It didn't take long for Jonah to figure out what had happened, and he fell to his knee, coughing and laughing at the same time.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, my friend. I've never been all too convinced by the teachings of the church, but that..." he panted, pointing at the unmoving demon, "That makes me think that we were protected by some higher power."

Jean seemed to agree, as he was clutching to the cross hanging from his neck. Jonah shook his head and then grimaced in pain. Though the battle had been won, the wounds sustained during it had – unsurprisingly – not vanished. He took a long swig from one of his vials and breathed a sigh of relief as the pain subsided somewhat.

"You're not hurt, are you? I think we ought to keep going," he said.

Jean nodded, though his expression was worried.

"Don't worry about me," Jonah huffed. "I've had worse injuries and kept going. Besides, I'm sure I can persuade someone at your camp to have a look at me as well."

The young man nodded and started to move toward the forest where the pair's equipment still lay. Jonah took one last look at the demon he had somehow felled. It was a shame, losing a sword, but he felt that the weapon had more than served its purpose. He shook his head and followed after Jean.

***

Surprisingly enough, the camp Jonah and Jean had been looking for turned out to be only a couple of hour's trek away. When they reached the edge of the camp, Jonah immediately noticed that the mood appeared to be very melancholic. As the two stopped at the guard so that Jean could explain the situation, Jonah let his gaze wander around the ragged camp. Judging by the amount of drinking going on, it was obvious that the soldiers weren't expecting to be attacked anytime soon. In fact, the heaviness of the drinking seemed to suggest that something major had just happened. Jonah didn't have to wait long, as Jean soon hobbled next to him.

"War is over. We lose," he explained.

Jonah nodded. He could see it in his mind's eye: some pompously dressed aristocrats somewhere very far away had convened and decided that they were no longer interested in fighting each other. How strange it was that the lives of so many people were dependent upon the whims of people who had probably never even seen a battlefield.

It is unbecoming of someone like me to have such thoughts. After all, I'm supposed to be an impartial observer, he chided himself, turning to look at Jean.

"Well, you don't look too dejected about losing."

Jean shook his head.

"Not my war. The only thing change: I don't have to die."

"I suppose that is a good way of seeing things," Jonah huffed, starting to feel the pain in his chest returning. "Though I suppose you'll have to find another way of making money."

Jean didn't respond. He was leaning on his crutch, staring at his fellow soldiers. Jonah understood the man. Indeed, though it was possible that he would end up getting paid eventually, this process was bound to be more complicated now, after a lost war. That said, it was clear that Jean had gained a newfound appreciation for life.

"Fighting is not for everyone – hell, I don't think it's for anyone. I'm sure you'll find some other way of getting money," Jonah continued.

"I must," Jean replied.

His tone of voice wasn't dejected, but rather determined. There was a look in his eyes that Jonah quite liked, and even caught himself feeling proud of the young man – but this no longer displeased the demon hunter. After all, he had discovered first-hand what it was like, actually fighting to protect something rather than doing so only because the church had mandated it.

I still think that getting overly attached is foolishness, but perhaps, sometimes, it is acceptable to open up to others... Otherwise, I feel that I might become something less than human.

"Now, I'd offer to give you all the money I have on me," Jonah started, immediately having to wave Jean quiet. "...But I shan't propose that, as I know that you would never accept my money. So, instead, I'm just going to wish you the best of luck."

Jean nodded, and for the first time since their chat about home, he smiled. There was something about this smile that very nearly made Jonah cry, a fact that took him completely off guard. He quickly forced a stern expression and pretended to be scanning the camp.

"As for how I'd like you to pay me back... Well, I'd like you to act as a translator when I go and have a talk with the nurses," he hurriedly added.

Jean smiled and nodded enthusiastically, pointing toward the camp.

"We go!"

With that, the mismatched duo entered the bustling camp and headed for the field hospital. Though they would soon part ways forever, each would carry the memory of the day they spent together for the rest of their lives.

The End