My Inner Demons Fanfic/Rewrite (Oaksariaha)

Daemos: Chapter 1

The crisp air tinged with the scent of a damp fog, the wind playfully danced through the sky-tinted canopy, as nature slowly surrendered to the encroaching twilight. A wisp of cyan light whipped past the lapis colored shrubbery, drifting around the breeze aimlessly like a lost child. The soul's pace reduced as it reached a prairie with diverse fauna. Slowly, it descended onto the grass. But before it could materialize, a sudden attack of magic emerged from a nearby tree.

After capture, the soul's movements came to an abrupt halt. Its limbs trembled with restraint, its eyes widened in fear and confusion. It lays eerily still in the flowers, as if to make itself inconspicuous, or maybe it's only awaiting its fate. The assailant of the ambush grabs his reward gently, trying not to flinch as he scoops it from the ground. This isn't the first time he's held a spirit in his palm, he hoped it wouldn't be the last either. His eyes were a stunning luminescent hue, perfectly matching his victim's aura piercing the surrounding darkness. He still held a great sword in his other hand, with warm blood dripping from its edges.

Two other men emerge from the woods, using their arms to block branches from hitting their horns. The man with the soul begins to flick his black tail with concentration as he glares at them. The man with green horns and tail walks behind him toying with his daggers. The other man, now standing in front of him, unsheathes his sword.

"Drop it!" He yells out, his glowing yellow eyes narrowing.

"You heard him, now give it to me!" The man behind him commands, lifting his face upward letting his white hair fall over his face. The man with yellow eyes seemed unable to focus his gaze on either of them, shifting his stance with a hint of hesitation.

"It's mine, I rightfully tracked it down." A playful gust went through his fluffy pink hair, caressing it gently, but overly contradicting the feeling of strain in their situation. "You all just followed me to find it again!"

"You wanna try me?" He threatened as he expertly brought his daggers together in a swift motion, their steel blades clashing with a sharp metallic ring and a brief but dazzling flash of light.

"Face me, I insist! I'm going to be the one to deliver it to His Highness!" His orange tail lashed back and forth in a display of mountaineering resentment similar to a spring about to snap. He turned the tip of his blade towards him, the steel glinting coldly in the moonlight.

"Petty, the both of you." A voice emerges from the bushes, a blue color shines from behind the leaves. A man with dark skin and blue horns and tail strolls out confidently, his composed demeanor belaying the ferocity of his appearance. "Truly, it doesn't matter who delivers it." 

The man holding the soul had been silent this whole time, quietly studying the scene before him with a keen and calculating gaze. "If you insist, then catch." A chuckle forms in his words as he tosses the soul over his shoulder behind him. The man with snow-like hair almost drops his daggers as he staggers forward to catch the spirit but the air seems to crack with static as it reaches his nails. Without warning, the man with golden eyes slams his sword down onto his weapons with a powerful blow, a shower of sizzling sparks skittering across the ground. The impact sent a jolt of electricity coursing through his daggers and into his body, adding a shock of pain to the force of the blow.

Before any serious injuries happen a small icicle crashes in the middle of them, summoning larger spikes of ice to shoot up from the ground. The barrage of icicles forcibly wrenching the men away from each other and sending the simmering soul hurtling in the air.

The man with bubblegum hair makes a swift recovery, landing on his knees. He then kicks off the dirt below him, propelling him forward with surprising speed. The man with cyan eyes suddenly lashed out and kicked his opponent with a quick, powerful motion, flinging him backward into the dense thicket of trees and out of sight. As the man stretched out his arms for the soul once again, a ring of fire blossomed at his feet, igniting the grass and encircling him in a wall of scorching flames. The heat and light of the fire held him motionless, blocking his path to his prize.