Rise of a Demon chapter one

1

Kalo’s screams pierced the silence of the house, waking his parents and all three of his siblings. His parents rushed in and clamped their hands over his mouth, pleading with him in muffled whispers to be quiet. Kalo’s dad cupped a handful of water from a small basin by the bed, and splashed it on Kalo’s face to break the shock.

Kalo shook, reminding himself that it was only a dream. Faint memories of the it lingered in his mind, but he knew that by morning they would be gone. It was the eight time he dreamt the dream, and each time he forgot it almost completely.

Three of the eight times had been this year.

“Are you alright, son?” his father asked. A fearful expression was painted upon his
hard face. All three of them knew they had reason to be fearful.

“Yah, I’m fine,” Kalo lied, wiping the sweat from his brow. It was his standard response. The last thing he wanted was to make his parents worry any more about this than they had to. He looked over at his mother. She was white in the face and on the verge of tears.

“Go back to bed, I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to comfort her.

“Are you sure there’s nothing that you need?” his mother asked. She took her hand and ran it though his long, medium-brown hair.
“
Yes, I’m fine. This one wasn’t as bad as some of the others. At least this time the pain left right away,” Kalo replied.

His parents glanced at each other passing unsaid words. Looking slightly unconvinced, they granted his wish and left him be.

He sat alone for a while breathing and getting a hold of himself in darkness. He slipped out of bed and splashed a bit of his basin water on his face, letting the cool water caress his forehead and neck. The coolness was soothing. He stood up and left his room, making his way outside to get a feel of the night breeze.
Looking up into the sky, he noticed by the moons position that it was nearly morning.

He turned back and looked at his cramped house. It was identical to all the others on the narrow winding road. This part of town was popularly called the slums. Most of the inhabitants were poor farm families that found new homes in the shelter of the cities walls. Kalo barely remembered living on a small farm. All he could remember was that they didn’t own the farm, but just worked there as tenant farmers. He remembered when his father had finally learned the leather trade, and opened a shop in the city so that they could buy this small house. It wasn’t much but he remembered the amount of pride that his father took in the home. Most other skilled craftsman made double what his father did, but in this part of town, few people could afford what they charged.

Kalo went back inside. Fall was getting underway, and the morning air was not nearly as warm as it used to be. He lit the cooking fire and prepared some of the ingredients for breakfast to make his mother’s job a bit easier. Most of his family would be up soon anyway, so he decided to get a head start on the chores. He fetched water from the city well and fed the chickens in the pen in the back yard. Then he set out his father’s leather and tools.

When all of his work was done, he lit a small oil lamp and set about for the day’s reading out of the Karon-Naz, the holy papers of the Karonians. This morning he and his family would be traveling to the inner part of the city to attend mass at the Corsec grand cathedral.

Most of the people of Corsec centered their life on their religion. Though Kalo’s father had asked him to apprentice and learn the trade of leatherworking, Kalo had always wished to join the grand Karonian army. It was said in the Karon-Naz that ‘All shall promote the Karonian religion and the worship of Karon. Those who do not believe strengthen the enemy, Haron Roc.” It was the job of the Karonian army to help convert, and this year he would be old enough to join. Currently they were on a crusade to convert a few smaller southern nations.

By the time he finished his required reading, the normal household hustle and bustle were well underway. His mother and sister, Kelo, who was twelve, were cooking, his father dressing and washing up. His two younger twin brothers, Manta and Joro, who were ten, were rampaging through the house. He put down the Karon-Naz and went to his room to get dressed.

He pulled on his finest wool tunic and his black leather boots. His father made the boots earlier this year, and they were as sturdy and as fine as the first day he stitched them together. He pulled a necklace over his head. On it was a small silver pendant with the Holy mark Karon on it. When he was finished he joined his family for a breakfast of eggs and bread.

When they finished, Kalo went out with his father hitch the horses to the wagon.
As they worked Kalo’s father turned to him and said “So, son, I hear you are planning to join the Karonian army? I thought you were going to stay here with me and help me out with the shop?”

Kalo grimaced. He meant to tell his father on his own time what he planned to do. His brothers must have said something, they were the only one’s he had told.
“Father, you know I would never do it if I had not had any brothers, but with Manta and Joro, I figured you could teach them the trade. Besides, I want to travel and see the world. I can’t do that here,” he replied trying to win his father’s approval.
His father showed neither approval nor disapproval for a moment. He turned and tightened one of the leather straps. Then he turned and looked at Kalo. His sharp blue eyes, one of the traits that he passed to Kalo, stared searchingly at his son. Then he nodded slowly.

“I understand a young man’s urge for excitement and adventure. You remind me very much of myself when I was your age; just a young lad who wanted to go off on an adventure away from the farm and the mundane life. But you have to understand like I did then, that you are needed here. Your brothers will not be old enough to learn the trade for three or four years. You have to understand that,” he said turning back to his work.

“But-“

“No buts. You can join the army as soon as your brothers are old enough, but until then you must help me here,”

Kalo sighed and thought in three or four years the entire crusade might be over, but he didn’t argue.
When everyone was ready Kalo’s father drove the horses to the cathedral. It was visible from every part of the city. It was a great towering building with spires and statues. As they neared the details became clearer. In the center was the tallest tower. on the top of the tower was the grand bishops quarters, a large dome made of white stone and decorated with strips of silver. It was a grand sight.

When they pulled up the city was already alive with activates. Everyone was making their way to the grand church. Kalo got out and rushed to the building. Every time he went inside it was a marvel. The inside was decorated with vast sculptures on the saints of old. Stunning pictures and engravings depicting stories from the Karon-Naz hung on the wall. Everything was decorated with silver and gold, and in the center was the greatest sight of all. A great statue worked in marble and ornamented with gold depicting the great god Karon, using a great hammer to lay the final blow upon Haron Roc. He went up to it and ritualistically put his hands on it as everyone did. Then he found his family and knelt on the floor waiting for the procession to begin.

For a moment there was a final bit of hurried movement by those who had come late, but after a minute all was silent. Then trumpet’s went off as The Grand Bishop of Corsec made his decent down the stairs. He was tall, nearly six foot three by Kalo’s measure. Dressed in an ornate red gown with gold embroidery, his single most prominent feature was his long black beard. He had it tied in a multitude of different brides. Small gold idols dangled from the ends. It was the traditional dress of a high bishop.

He raised his hands in the air and said “To Karon our blessings go out! Shorten the time before the Final Fight and the destruction of Haron-Roc! Let us make our voices heard across the land from sea to sea that all shall know!” His voice had a chanting quality to it as he spoke. The words had come so often he could repeat them perfectly without a second thought.

The sermon lasted most of two hours. For the most part it was the usual parade of inspiration and guidance that Kalo had come to respect from the High bishop, but nearing the end it shook him profoundly.

“Finally,” the bishop said, “I wish to speak of Galon.” The crowd, Kalo noticed, had been silent the entire time, but now he couldn’t even hear them breathing.

Galon, The Great Enemy of Men, he was called. He had been a demon, the last of the Forerunners, and the most powerful. When the great Gods had created the world, and before Haron-Roc went mad, the Forerunners had been a race of Great Men. They were stronger than any men today. When Haron-Roc went mad he went about destroying them one by one, fearful that they would turn on him. He defeated all but Galon. Galon pledged his elegance forever to Haron-Roc.

For a while they went into hiding, and in that time Karon created the True Men, a weaker race that he had hoped he could guide. For a while there was peace, but after a time Haron-Roc came back and unleashed Galon onto the world. He wreaked havoc and destroyed all who would not join him. Soon he had built an army of men to follow his cause. However, those who followed Karon found that they had a better ally, for they were able to overturn Galon’s armies and in one final battle defeat Galon.

However, all who had lived heard Galon’s final cry promising to return. All feared that day, and it was said the one who would inherit Galon’s throne next to Haron-Roc would first know of it through dreams of the final battle.

Kalo breathed deeply, trying to keep his face as straight as possible.

The Bishop went on: “We all know of the Demon, we all know of his return and we all dread the day when the final battle maybe fought again. As you all know the High Questioners of the Church have been working tirelessly to find the Demon, before he rises again. They will be coming here on the morrow, and we should all prepare, and rejoice in their coming to cleanse us!” he looked around hands in the air, a look of passion on his face. “We must all prepare our families for the coming! Rejoice and be gracious! Let the light of Karon shine on all of us as we await the final blow!” With that he turned and ascended the stairs to his study, no doubt to prepare himself for the questioners.

Kalo shuddered, he had met the questioners four times, but this was the first time that they had come so soon after one of his dreams. He knelt on there for a while, shocked. When he got up he turned to his family, as they stood waiting.

His father grabbed Kalo by the shoulder “Don’t worry. We’ve all been through this before. They won’t be here until tomorrow. They best thing you can do now is relax. Go hunting, or try your hand with the fish spear again, but remember what you know you have to do. If I’m not mistaken I saw Vortin waiting outside for you, go with him,” he said. He sounded calm and collected, but one good look into his eyes told Kalo all he needed to know about how afraid he truly was.
They went back and touched the statue of Karon again before once again making their way through the huge oak doors.

The second that they were out Kalo was intercepted by Vortin, his bow laying over his shoulder and his green hunting cloths on. Vortin was a slight bit shorter than Kalo, about five foot ten compared to Kalo’s six foot stature. His golden hair was a testament to his deep Corsecian roots. His family had been native to Corsec since time out of mind. They still even worshipped the old god’s though in secret. Kalo, had tried converting his friend, but made no progress.

Vortin could tell something was wrong in an instant. “What’s a matter, Kalo?” He asked. His usually easy demeanor vanished when he was concerned.
“The questioners are coming tomorrow, and last night I..I had the dream again.”
He had told Vortin about the dream and the prophecies many times before, though he doubted how much of the prophecies he really believed.

“It’ll be all right, I mean it’s not like you haven’t been through this before. You’ll do fine” he said with a smile. His encouragement didn’t really help, but Kalo was glad for his optimism. “We’ll go hunting,” he added as an afterthought “to get your mind off of it.

They went back to Kalo’s house and grabbed his bow. The smooth wood felt good in his hand. He had always been talented with a bow, never better than his dad when he was a boy, but still fairly good. When he joined the Karonian Army he knew he was going to be an archer.
They left and made their way to the town’s south gates. The gates opened up toward the woods. The best rabbit hunting in all of Corsec could be had in that forest. They split up to cover more ground.

Kalo stalked slowly, making sure every step was as quite as could be. He paused every now and then to listen for a rustling in the grass that might be a rabbit. He heard a small rustle from behind a log. He stopped and listened. He heard it again. As carefully as possible he moved into a better position. A plump brown rabbit stood in front of him nibbling on some clover. He knocked his arrow and pulled back, making it all happen in one smooth as glass motion.
Suddenly a trumpet bellowed out. He jerked as her released. The rabbit darted away under cover. He cursed his luck. The trumpet wet off again scaring any animal within a mile into cover. then he took a breath as he realized what that trumpet meant.

He ran out of the woods to the edge of the road just in time to watch the questioners as they rode past on horseback. They went past in a blur, their red coats whipping behind them. Vortin ran out of the forest just in time to watch them pass. They both looked at each other with the same expressions. They both had to leave right now.