Short Stories (ErrInk)

An Unlikely Love - Chapter 1

  The land of Tulvic had been in a crazy war between the demons and the mortals for quite some time. Both sides used magic and tamed beasts for battle.

It had devastating effects on certain kingdoms and towns however, not all of them. A small remote village that was tucked away within a valley and a forest was one of them.

  The reason it had been left alone was because the demons had no need for it and the mortals couldn't gain any sort of wealth or power from them either. If there was the small possibility that they would be attacked, they wouldn't be able to defend themselves as no one in the village knew how to use magic or hold a sword.

  This village was welcoming to all, it was a traditional custom for them. Their homes were made from sturdy wood that the trees had provided and their roads were only made from cobblestone and dirt. Silence had never ruled as it was driven away by the noises of farms as well as subtle songs from birds and wind chimes.

  Despite the many battles that occurred near the village, it had seemed that their spirits never broke. There were always smiles, beautiful and happy enough to lighten anyone's day.

  On the outskirts resided a small cottage that belonged to an old woman and her skeletal grandson. The boy was a young adult, being just nineteen years old. His bones were a simple pale shade of white but they were decorated with many black swirls that his grandmother had marked on him. A large yet soft brown scarf adorned his neck to keep him warm during the chilly days in the valley. His name was Ink.

  Ink may have been a strange name in the eyes of a human but to the monster race, it was perfectly normal.

  The boy spent his days helping his grandmother tend to the animals and crops. In his spare time he practiced art and apothecary, using a variety of herbs and spices to make potions and even poisons by mistake.

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  The culture of the demons were somewhat of an enigma. They often fought one another for power but they supported each other when it came to conflicts with other races. Parental demons abused their children but still took care of them in order to raise a healthy offspring.

  Demons looked like normal mortals but they had horns, large feathery wings, had long slender tails. With the use of magic, they could disguise themselves to hide amongst the mortals to better their own survival.

  In their eyes, power and survival was everything. There was no room for love, only getting in relationships when it came time to reproduce. Once the offspring was old enough to leave the nest, the parents would either separate or kill each other.

  The demons resided in the Underworld, a realm that had terrible living conditions. Most days it was heavily raining acid but there were also the occasional volcanic eruptions.

  Over the years they had adapted and even began believing that they were the apex race for surviving such odds against weather. They had become excellent fighters and immune to fire, acid, and poison.

  The reason that they even lived there in the first place was because the mortals had exiled them there a millennia ago. Because of this, demons grew to have great resentment for mortals.

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  Ink felt a soft hand gently rub to top of his head. His eyes opened to see that he had fallen asleep on his grandmother, Lily, while she read a book. It had been a while since he had a good rest. Recently, he had been having trouble sleeping which led to him staying up throughout the entire night.

  He smiled before pushing himself from the old, tattered couch. Ink walked into the kitchen, once helping Lily to her feet, and removed the lid that previously covered the oven. He piled a few logs on one another and immediately lit them on fire with a match.

  Lily placed a skillet on the stove that was just big enough to cook two eggs that they gathered from the chickens. Ink hugged his grandmother from behind before leaving the cottage to tend to the crops for the morning.

The grains and vegetables seemed to be doing well from the recent rainy weather. The chickens and goats were lively that morning as they were able to walk around outside instead staying in their enclosures to stay dry.

  While waiting for breakfast to be finished, Ink drew in a leather journal with a piece of charcoal. The lines from the utensil formed into a picture that resembled a youthful depiction of Lily. Despite her being called Ink's grandmother, he was actually adopted as his parents abandoned him on her doorstep.

  He listened to the small *clicks* and *clacks* from the wooden wind chime that hung from the branch of a tree. Small water droplets dripped from trees and birds washed themselves in the puddles that gathered at the bottom of the trunks. He thought to himself as he focused on his drawing.

'Perhaps when I finish taking care of the animals and crops, I can go into the forest to gather some herbs...

In the forest