The Savages

Chapter 5: Clarence

He never understood why people looked at him funny. He was the same as all the rest - straightened blonde hair falling over his shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and a softly carved face from the heavens above. Wherever he travelled to, whether it be sightseeing or a casual stroll down the street, he could feel peoples' eyes on him. Some full of wonder and curiosity, others full of disgust and judgement. But what were they judging him for?

Only those gifted with supernatural abilities could see past his human-like exterior, instantly knowing what he was and why he was here with little guess work involved. They glimpsed his fully black eyes, only broken by intricate red and purple pigments swirling around on the inside, overlapping one another as if involved in an ancient dance. Some claimed to see faint traces of pink mixed in amongst the colours. No matter how unsettling the thought was, he was grateful for his eyes acting as his only mark of the devil. Unlike Atlantes, whose small brown horns noticeably protruded from his silvery faux hawk hair without the use of his protective shield.

Today he was meeting with Atlantes at their usual hangout place on Tariff Street, Takk. Whilst it was popular for humans going about their daily business, warlocks were known to frequent the café on selected days of the week. Atlantes and Joxxyl - another warlock whom Clarence had met during the last century - were already waiting outside when he arrived.

The tall, three-storey brick building towered over Clarence, the olden day architecture alluring his eye. Each of the twelve windows were curved around the top, dark green ivy vines weaving their way upward over the expansive gaps of wall, resting in between every nook and cranny. He almost missed Atlantes' horns, blended in so well with the amber bricks they appeared not to exist at first glance. He would have almost looked human, if not for the heavy black trench coat embellished with an array of golden buttons done up over his middle, the thick hem swaying around his knees. He chose to match the coat with a pair of dark grey crinkled suit pants, a slight trace of the emerald buttoned shirt he wore beneath peeking out from the collar.

"I was beginning to think you bailed on us," Joxxyl jibed, a smirk appearing at the corner of his flat upper lip.

He was a foot taller than Atlantes, wearing a plain dark teal t-shirt constricted around his muscular form and faded beige jeans. His clear blue hair was pulled back into a bun, several long, thin strips from his fringe tumbling down either side of his oblong face with features as delicate as a fairy's. Glassy golden green eyes were fixed on Clarence, their irises surrounded by a burst of auburn flare, like wild fire ripping through a vivid field of grass. Spread out widely behind him, standing at almost five feet tall, were a pair of scaly black wings spiked with red tips. They were so strong that trees bended backwards from the sheer force of their vibrations, often ripped out by the roots and thrown ten metres through the air.

"You know I wouldn't do such a thing," Clarence sighed dramatically. Joxxyl scoffed, pressing his fists against one another in front of his chest. "Shall we go inside?"

Atlantes led the short path toward the front of the café, holding the black door open. Clarence and Joxxyl thanked him silently, securing a table by the front just as he joined them seconds after his chivalrous act.

Inside the café was relatively quiet. Warlocks of other ranks sat scattered around the long wooden table Clarence and his friends were at, discussing their latest jobs and sharing jokes that would make humans retch up the contents inside their stomachs. Clarence recognised a couple of them - Amandla, whose speciality was disposing of cursed items belonging to deceased humans, and Umkaki, renowned for safely extracting demonic spirits from children living in haunted houses. Both were considerably powerful warlocks, but had nothing on Clarence.