Scapegoat and the Devollveo

Azazel was truly lost. Even more trees blocked his path, creating a maze around him. Turning back, he began to worry. What if he never got out? What if Ambrogino never found him again?
Thoughts span through his head, threatening to break out of control. What would happen if they did, he wasn’t sure. Rustles overhead, a branch snapped next to him, confusing sounds. He turned back once more, another dead end. His heart was beating in his ears, blood pounding through his body and flushing his pale freckled cheeks.
He stopped in his tracks, a branch snapped right behind him, very close. Not wanting to turn around, but feeling that worse things would happened if he didn’t, Azazel looked around very slowly, cautious of whatever it was.Oh my God.

Tall, no taller than a man. Large slits that suggested eyes, filled with colour. Strange markings across its skin in odd places. Incredibly long hair, touching the forest floor. Paste-like blanched skin. Long limbs and a small torso, but a long chest. A bony tail fell alongside its hair.
A creature, so alien but still, with a feeling of grace and majesty. It held its head high as it studied the boy before him. Obviously male, but it had no, at least visual, sexual organs. Those large eyes had pupils, but no white and the irises changed colour constantly yet subtly. Orange, green, blue, mud brown, black, white, red, pink, violet, all the time.
He shivered, unnerved at once by it. It said nothing, maybe it couldn’t speak, just stared at Azazel unblinking. He could feel his heart race even more, his eyes widened and he paled.

Behind the creature, there was someone else. Azazel recognised them this time.
“Ambrogino?” he said breathlessly. Hearing the boy’s voice made that creature hiss slightly, and he took a step back from it. Turning back to Gino, he saw that he was smiling. Not happy smiling, but sly smiling. Like something was terribly wrong.
“Azazel. I didn’t honestly think you’d make it this far. Lost?” His voice was quiet but serious. This was no question, Azazel held his tongue. The boy laughed slightly, and passed by the creature without a second look. Standing face to face with him, Azazel saw something had changed in Ambrogino’s face. His eyes, they were…different. Larger, and their grey irises swirled like molten silver. His skin was tanned and smooth, but it was unnatural. What had happened to him?
“Nothing happened to me. You just couldn’t see me before, and now you can.”
Confused.
“What?”
He laughed again, and turned to the creature.
“Devollveo, sacrifice beast in Latin. Bellua devoveo. One of few left.”
Azazel reckoned that Gino was talking to him. The Devollveo looked at him, though, and cocked its head as if to understand his words. It had heard its name, Azazel was sure.
“You would have been a Devollveo, Azazel.” He looked once more at the unsure boy. ”But you changed. And so did I, but you must choose soon.”
Azazel didn’t understand. Choose what?
“Ambrogino…”
“My name is Silvaci.” He interrupted bluntly, sighing shortly.
“What?!” he said bewildered.
Silvaci frowned, annoyed yet amused strangely.
“You must choose.” He said again. “Change or be sacrificed.”
Azazel’s skin paled even further at these words, what sort of horrible nightmare was this? Silvaci held a hand out to the Devollveo, who gave him a knife. Small, more a dagger than anything else, but it was sharper than anything he had ever seen before. Intricate designs covered the handle, and the blade held a chamber in the middle, like a tube, filled with…blood. No doubt about that, it was blood in that knife. And he realised that this Silvaci wasn’t joking.
“Choose now, Azazel. You do know what that means don’t you, Azazel; it means ‘the scapegoat’. Choose now.”
“I…don’t understand.”
His eyes were fixed on the knife, its glint in the moonlit forest. If he was sacrificed, out here, no-one would hear his scream, no one would come running to save him. But he understood perfectly. Azazel had been read the forest’s stories since childhood, it wasn’t natural.
“So they’re true then? The stories?” He glanced up at Silvaci, whose eyes stayed locked on his face. They scared him, this thing that had once been his friend, looking at him with those eyes. The pupils would disappear every now and then, the liquid irises covering the pupil, enveloping it whole.
“Silva demands sacrifice, whether physical or mental-“
“Silva?” he asked, interrupting Silvaci abruptly.
“The forest. You didn’t think it didn’t have a name, did you? Even the most humble of places has a name, and here, as twisted as this place may be, has a –“
He stopped, realising what the boy was doing, then tutted.
“Don’t evade the issue at hand, Azazel. It has to be done.”
He cursed, and then thought about his choices. Sacrifice was an easy exit, no consequences for his actions. But he wouldn’t go down like that, not after what he had been through. That left change, but…
“Who…I mean…what will I…”
Reading his mind, the boy said softy,
“What I see best. If not, your sacrifice will do the same.” He shrugged, the gesture seeming almost natural to something so…abnormal.
“How do I choose?”
“Then you accept? Change or sacrifice?”
That question again, but Azazel was sure this time,
“I…change.”
Silvaci’s lips lengthened into a sly smile, showing pointed white teeth.
“Good. You chose well, Azazel. Now the choice is up to me.”
He stepped away from the Devollveo, who regarded him with a blank expression. How it had made that hiss earlier, Azazel didn’t know, it had no mouth. But it’s unnerving and unblinking eyes struck as much fear as a row of sharp teeth could into anyone. The irises were similar to Silvaci’s, liquid and covering the pupil at times. It hadn’t made a sound since Azazel had first spoken, and hadn’t broken its eerie gaze yet.
“Azazel?”
He looked at Silvaci, who was half-turned away from him; he had been meaning to go. Then he realised something, something impor-…
“Are you coming?” he asked serenely, eyes fixed intently on Azazel’s’ face. That look, that stance, him, he wasn’t human.
“What are you?” Azazel meant mutter quietly, he hadn’t intended the boy to hear. But the words flew from his mouth with unexpected strength and reached Silvaci, whose gaze didn’t falter. He smiled faintly and walked away in the opposite direction’s strides were unusually long and elegant, his limbs seeming to make no movement as he disappeared into the thick forest and shadow of its sinister foliage.
Azazel made no move to follow at first, standing rooted to the spot and petrified of the outcome of his choice. Only time could tell, in this case. Suddenly, a crazy notion crossed his mind, dominating his thoughts, run. He won’t find you. Just run.
It seemed ridiculous at first, impossible, even if he was able to find his way out, there was the-
He span around, expecting the ominous figure of the Devollveo there. But it was gone, silently and without a trace. Azazel stayed stock-still, the fleeing idea becoming more and more rational with each passing second. A cowardly decision, true, but it was better than what Silvaci had proposed. So, swallowing his pride and drawing a shaky breath, he chose the opposite direction that Silvaci had taken, and ran for his life.

Before long, Azazel realised that the notion was stupid; he was lost and out of breath in Silva, and his jumpiness didn’t help the matter. Another few turns and he would be out, that was the phrase that kept him going, but it was just so stupid.
Coming to an abrupt halt, he walked back into the trunk of an enormous tree and slid down to the ground with a satisfying thud. His arms were cut from the thin branches and his clothes were torn and dirty. Dark brown hair fell into his face, his cheeks were flushed from the running and Azazel was on the verge of tears, or screaming.
He whined slightly, the sound escaping of its own accord, it sounded thin and weak in here, no echoes. Closing his eyes, the boy thought of his bed, warm and waiting, back on the other side of this forest. If only he hadn’t listened to Ambrogino, his damn pride had got the better of him, his worst fault. It made him laugh bitterly; Azazel wasn’t going to get out of here, at any cost. He hunched up against the hard trunk and held the backs of his arms, thinking back to that morning, its warmth and that moment of absolute bliss when you wake up and know that it’s sunny outside. That morning was perfect; he’d gone outside first thing and sat on the old wall, imagining how nice his day was going to be, hadn’t he?

Azazel heard footsteps on the forest floor, crunching dry leaves underfoot. He didn’t open his eyes but tried to conjure up the memory again. He wanted Silvaci to leave him alone, to lie here on the floor, daydreaming.
Whoever it was didn’t speak, but he heard more footsteps around him before he realised, they were circling him. He opened his hazel eyes and saw something that made him freeze.
The Devollveo was there, watching him. When their eyes locked, it stopped circling and stood immobile and tranquil, almost docile. But its expression was anything but docile; it fixed Azazel with a stare of what seemed to him like predator intent. And he was prey.
For a long moment, nothing happened. They stared each other down silently, until Azazel heard it. A sound, soft at first but which grew in intensity and volume; something he’d heard before. The Devollveo was hissing at him, back arching, tail flailing left and right in agitation. The boy watched this with wide fear-filled eyes, trying to shuffle even further back from the creature and meeting solid wood, bottom lip trembling and chest heaving from both this and his exhaustion.
“I gave you a choice, Azazel.” Came a silky voice, laced with a dark edge.
“Silvaci!” he cried, turning to look for the boy frantically. Meanwhile, the Devollveo had decided to make a move. It advanced a few paces, still hissing furiously.
He wasn’t in sight, if he was there at all, Azazel wasn’t sure. But he hadn’t imagined the voice.
“You ran. How silly.”
He listened, trying his best to ignore the creature’s aggressive front.
“Do you still want the choice, scapegoat?”
“Yes! I’ll do it!” he shouted back, tears welling up as he waited for Silvaci’s answer. Silence between them, the Devollveo could only be a foot away from Azazel now.
Suddenly, it stopped. The creature resumed its usual placid eerie manner and behind him, the boy emerged from darkness once more. But this time, he walked over to Azazel and held out a hand. He stared at it for a moment, bewildered by the gesture, then accepted it and stood upright again. There were leaves in his hair and on his jumper, but he brushed them off quickly. The other boy didn’t seem angry with him; in fact, he didn’t seem deterred at all by his running. Silvaci regarded him with an expression of amusement again, that sly smile.
“I’ll do it.” repeated Azazel, lowering his gaze and brushing the tears from his eyes with a sleeve. He couldn’t believe that he’d ran; that wasn’t like him.
“You won’t run this time?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone and he laughed. Azazel didn’t answer; did he need to? He wasn’t leaving Silva, ever again.