The Demon Priest

Chapter 1: A Mothers Grave

 "Lance!... Lancelot Ashridge! Hurry up and get out here!" A voice boomed.
 "I am on my way father." The boy, Lance, shouted.
 Lance put down the crate of apples he had been carrying, smiled at the lady he had gotten them for and walked out of her shed into the small village of Axon. The man who called him was Geralt, his father, who was also the priest of their church. Lance saw him standing in front of it, talking to a couple and jogged forwards.
 Lance looked at the building now, and thought back to what his father had told him about it before.
 Since he was twenty, Geralt had committed to taking care of the church and fixing it up and also running it. Many years later, when Lance turned thirteen, Geralt enlisted his sons help to which his son happily agreed. Now sixteen, Lance was training to be the next priest.
 "Ah here he is. This is my son, Lancelot." Geralt introduced Lance to the couple. The boy shook hands with the man and bowed to the lady.
 "That's your son?" The man asked.
Lance could understand his confusion. Looking at his father, you could see a lot of differences. He shared the same striking yellow eyes as his father and shared the same robes, although Geralt's were black while Lance's were brown. The similarities ended there however, as when Geralt had been younger he had dark brown hair, whereas Lance had short silver hair and slightly pointed ears, which he generally covered with a bandanna wrapped around them. These two traits he had gotten from his mother instead, who was part of the elven race making Lance a half elf.
 Lance cleared his throat, "Yes, that is me. May I help you two?"
 "Well yes," The man began, looking distressed. "You see, for a few months now we have been having vivid nightmares, and we have begun to suspect that they are effecting our physical bodies as well."
 "Excuse me for being skeptical, but how can you be serious? Dreams have nothing to do with reality." Lance remarked.
 "That's what we thought as well, young Ashridge. However last night in my nightmare my wife had received an injury, and when we woke up this morning, well look."
 The man gestured to his lover, who pulled up the sleeve of her dress. Running up along her arm was a long gash and several scratch marks beneath it.
 "I- it does't hurt. My husband is just overreacting I'm sure." She tried to say, but winced and let a tear run down her cheek in the process.
 Lance scratched his head. "Maybe, but maybe not. You say this happens every night?" The couple nodded. "Alright, tonight I will come to your home and, while you sleep stay to watch if anything unusual happens. As long as that is okay with you, of course."
 "That's great, fantastic even. Thank you very much Lancelot." The man clasped Lance's hands and shook.
 "I am just helping out someone in need, no thanks is necessary." Lance said, feeling slightly awkward as the fairly older man had turned to him, surely still just a child in his eyes, for help.
 As he watched the couple return to their house, his father patted him on the back.
 "Good work son. You'll make a great priest."
 Lance blushed. "Hopefully. There's no way I'll be as good as you though."
 "Of course you will. You have my blood in you after all."
 The boy was about to respond, but his ears twitched and he stuck his hand out,catching an arrow that was about to pierce straight through Geralt's skull. He looked over at the young boy holding a bow.
 "Watch where you aim next time, child."
 "Y-yes Lance. S-sorry father." The boy stuttered, bowing to them.
 Lance continued to give him the evil eye as he went back to practicing his archery.
 "Forgive and forget," Geralt said. "Besides, with your elven blood that arrow never would have touched me."
 That was true. Due to his blood, Lance was stronger and faster than humans, and could respond to things quicker. This also allowed him to use magic, but he has never tried tapping into and using it.
 "Yes, yes I know," The half elf replied. "Still, why are we training children to guard the village? We have enough able bodied men to fight."
 "Able bodied yes, however in mind and spirit they aren't strong enough. If we train the children and toughen up their spirits, they will be able to face monsters and demons like you can."
 "You will train them?"
 "With your help, yes. Just like I trained you."
 The boy was forced to agree with his father on this point. Lance didn't just help the church, he also kept the town safe from monsters and demons. The difference between the two, for Lance anyway, was that while strong monsters were born evil and had no choice to be otherwise.
 Demons on the other hand were like a human, knowing the difference between right and wrong yet still chose to wallow in the darkness and let it rule them. They were also cunning and powerful, which made them very dangerous. For these facts, Lance hated them all. He vowed to wipe them off the face of Chiyolas.
 His father had the same thoughts, which is why he trained his son to fight from his experience as a knight for the kingdom long ago. However Geralt also believed that some demons, no matter how few, were good. When Lance asks for proof though, the priest only claims that he can just feel it.
 "Yes, well as long as they know how to fight." The silver haired boy grunted, walking away.
 "Hey, where are you going? I said we were going to train them, not me."
 "I promised to go meet Iris."
 Lance walked through the streets of Axon, taking in the scenery. Bright green grass covered the land and various types of plants bloomed, granting the ability for alchemists to create lots of potions. Houses big and small were built out of wood and steel, and usually housed parents and their children.
 It was a small, simple farming community and Lance liked it that way.
 He thought it to be mid day by the time he made it to Iris' house. Being one of the wealthier families, there was a long stone path leading to the great oak door of her manor. Using the brass knocker, Lance banged on the door.
 He was greeted with the smiling face of Iris. Her smile was only outclassed by her dazzling blue eyes and golden locks, which ran down just passed her shoulders. She was dressed in her usual attire, which consisted of a long white dress with a black leather vest on top.
 "Hello Lance. How do you do?" Her angelic voice questioned.
 "I'm doing fine. Yourself?" He replied.
 "Doing alright. Are you ready to go?"
 Lance nodded and away they went. As he looked at his companion he thought back to when they had first met.