Ava Redman

The gold lip in the sky lifted ever so slightly as the two waded with less care through the Savannah and yet still quieter than anything within a mile radius. The fire would have been seen from miles away prompting the arrival of someone soon and often not someone they needed. Marcus could not use his powers on more than one at a time and even then his was a slow power that required a certain amount of trust. Eros might have better luck though Marcus would be leaving much of his fate in the hands of his companion. He waded through the grasses reaching the territory where the animals roamed, nocturnal and unafraid of the creature. Marcus could not be sure if the animals already knew the danger was gone, he’d known them always to have keener instincts than humans. Still Marcus could not drown out the words of the demon oracle. The one you seek already lives . She is the only thing that can save you, but she is young, not ready. The words echoed in Marcus’s mind. She will never be ...

“What is it?” Marcus said, his caramel voice resonating through the void.             “I can’t be sure,” he faced Marcus, “you feel it too?”             Marcus nodded after a beat but said nothing as the soft thrum that might have been crickets drummed on through his blood. Eros rose, the jar firm in his grip, “Like calls to like,” he held it aloft as the color faded to a harsh white and melted to a sharp yellow. “You just killed the demons only oracle, they’ll come after us whether we’re Guardians or not.” Eros ran a hand through his silver hair, his eyes shining with the dawning sun. “Did that thing tell you anything of interest?” Eros lowered the jar placing it with care into his backpack, not before wrapping it up in a small piece of cloth. Unlike Marcus, Eros was dressed in black from head to toe, his tuft of silver hair reflecting like a cat’s eye, his backpack ...

Eros watched over the horizon filled with silver clouds making the world lighter than it should have been. He flicked a silver lighter and tossed it to the pile of reeds and blubber, it lit up with a dark purple flame melting and burning.             The stink stung their eyes, permeating the air and the hot rot of poisons hit their nostrils as the demon carcasses melted away in the fire. Minutes dragged on like hours, as the sky tinted a dull grey fleshing out the world around them.             “We should move on,” Marcus Ambruge stood before the burning masses, glittering embers sparking vivid unending colors. He hadn’t seen it before though he wasn’t surprised that some of them burned differently than others. “This land belongs to Mala, he will bring many men with guns once they see the fire.”             “Wait,” ...

Marcus drew his spear lightning fast from the ground and pierced into the creature’s flesh smooth, fast and efficiently. The demon let out a gurgling hiss as the blubber compressed down with an acrid hiss and wheeze, a black balloon.             Marcus sprung the spear from its body, stepping back as the mass slumped forward like jelly collapsing out of its mold, slowly sinking into the earth. With it the hut’s reedy walls started to slacken. Marcus took the next step towards the entryway, watching as the thatched roof and bits of corrugated metal collapsed in with a crunch.             His gaze stole to the shadow looming beyond the hut, “She was buying time. Why?” the shadow moved too swift to see in the silver darkness.             A dagger whizzed by Marcus plunging into a creature only paces away from him. Marcu...

He pulled out a dagger from his belt and sent it flying towards the creature. It hit its mark an inch deep into a layer of black blubber. Its scream pierced the hut as the blubber hissed and melted around the dagger.             “Silver of Valhalla ,” Marcus straightened once more, “courtesy of the brethren you betrayed. There is only one relief,” he pulled out a vial from a leather satchel tied around his waist. Marcus Ambruge was dressed like a colonial tribesman even though his people though living in rudimentary mud huts and basic housing wore clothing more akin to the western world. Not Marcus, not at all. He’d worn all forms of clothing and found his body most comfortable in nothing but a loin cloth and spear. It had been tradition in the village to hunt naked with only a spear the first time.             It was as freeing then as it was now.    ...

“You come with questions far more dangerous than you know,” hissed the creature as the satchel inched closer to it once more.             Marcus Ambruge moved swift as an adder as his spear shot down onto the leather pouch the tip piercing through and embedding in the ground.             The demon’s eyes snapped up at it. “You think I have not seen the future for myself? You think I don’t know what you intend to do once I tell you?”             Marcus let the spear stay in the earth as it swayed from side to side he said, “I came to present you a choice, tell me and you live.”             “Ah, it is the choice I did not see…what a strange occurrence that it should be on those terms. You wouldn’t wish me to stop selling secrets to my kind? You wouldn’t want me t...