Daemos's Lost Treasure

Old Tales Or Nightmares

A-n: An old fairytale told on Daemos as a warning about humans and their greed.

This is inspired by the little match girl and the vocaloid song Ourin no Honou (or) The Flames of The Yellow Phosphorus as the english title.

Side note: There is death in this chapter but that will become common in flashbacks and memories littered throughout the story as it gets more chapters.
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The place was cold snow falling from the clouds above. A little girl stood with a wicker basket nearly full of matchboxes. Everyone passed by her, ignoring a young lady about 10 - 13 trying to earn money for her father. The sun was starting to reach high noon as the bitter chill of the wind drifted along the streets every now and again.

The girl had been out here for the last three hours in nothing but thin cloths. She had no shoes on her feet, just rags, and a thin shawl could do nothing to warm her small body. The chilled wind was blowing harshly, stinging any uncovered areas, mainly her cheeks. She felt like crying but none of the passerbys would stop they rarely did for anyone.

"Excuse me, will you please buy some matches?" She had asked that several times and she knew staying out here in the cold was the best option.

Her father wasn't kind like he once had been. Now he made her sell match boxes in the frozen north town they called home. The poor girl moved into a nearby alley away from the wind. She leaned on the brick wall of an alleyway.

The alley was dark, but she didn't mind, all she thought about was that she was cold, very cold. And thus, hoping for a little warm, she lit up a match. The flame immediately flared up on the tip of the match, though small, it was bright and warm. And it was all what the girl needed right then, the warmth of the flame. A small smiled crept to her face as within the light of the flame that slowly danced, she saw an illusion of a happy family she yearned for, a happy family she once had.

There was sound at the far end of the alley which frightened the girl. She dropped the match and flame died. The girl moved down the alley and to the sound. There in snow was a man with dark blue horns and monk-like clothes with two sickle like blades at his sides. Not wanting to be hurt by an unknown person the girl tapped the man on the shoulder.

His eyes snapped open wide, aquamarine eyes with crystal pupils looked around. The girl fell back onto her butt dropping her basket yet somehow not spilling the matches inside.

"Sir are you alright?" The little girl asked as regained herself and cautiously moved closer.

"I am fine...." The man sat up and rubbed his head as if trying to sooth a headache. "Where am I?"

"Well, I don't know the name of this town." She shivered as the wind hit her back. "However, I do know we are in a very cold part of the world."

"You're cold, small one." The male said as he moved closer to her. "Come closer, I will not hurt you."

The girl was hesitant as his hands were big, like her father's and it scared her. Yet she was cold and she knew her body couldn't take much more. She was also so hungry... She couldn't remember the last time she got a proper meal...

'There isn't much else I can do and I don't want to return... there....' She thought as she shook her head making black\purple hair crackle as it was frozen in patches at the tips.

She scooted closer to the man as he wrapped an arm around her. His body began to warm up with his magic. He had a daughter at one point but lost her to an illness, and this girl looked like what his child would have if she had lived longer.