The Azkenean Deamon

Beginning

Luca Milagro

Fear filled the outer town square of Asfalis. The crude stink wafted between the cracks which adorned the crates, the crates that carried the never-ending line of the dead. Families wailed out of the pain of losing a member, while others were washed with relief when they saw none belonged to them. We’re belonging to the 2nd lowest level of society, the ones chosen for sacrifices, and the ones being killed. The lowest is nearly extinct, and the ones alive? Not for long. The famine and frost across our wastelands wiped them out, and it's starting to wipe us out too.

Lucian (though I prefer Luca), me, the last one strong enough to stand here. I stared down into the broken crate my father rested in, his hand holding an engraved metal with my family name on it. Milagro, it meant a miracle, but none could bring him back to me. First my mother, and now my father, are gone. I looked to my right, into a friend's butcher shop, where my sister already knew deep down that he wasn't coming back but still prayed. The young girl of 10 years looked like pure hope amid the cries. Clarabelle, like me, had mildly wavy hair which radiated a warm brown in the sunlight, however, she had dark eyes that put the starry night sky to shame. It even puts my dull lifeless ones to shame. Guess it’s also the fact that I’m twenty now, life hit me bad.

“Out of the way boy! Don't just stand around blocking the road” A well-built soldier pushed me aside. I immediately dropped my head looking down at their feet. It was the rule. The lower rankers never look directly in the eyes of higher-ups. Brown leather, polished until my reflection shined on it… must be a level B soldier. I'm a level D fellow. The ranks go from Z, A, B, C, D, and finally, F. F is the lowest ones, the beggars, the homeless. D is the lowest, workers with barely enough to make sure we don’t die of starvation. C are the main workers and shop owners of the hierarchy. B is the richer folks and the majority of soldiers are given this rank.

“ HEY! Are you deaf? Or dumb? I said MOVE!” I was kicked out of the way and landed on a jagged rock. I left a sting on my right rib and looked at it, some blood from a new cut oozed through my linen shirt. Thank god it wasn't deep, I didn't need to waste supplies on it.

“S- sorry sir… I didn't see you. I- I’m very sorry s- sir” 

“ If your sorry you will make yourself scarce before the generals arrive, I’m showing you mercy by not killing you” 

 I felt him lean down close next to my ears and the burning hot breath scalding my cheek

“ But my general? Can't make any promises ' I gasped, I can't let anything happen to me, stay low and help Clarabella survive. I scurried out of the way ignoring the sharp pain. 

“I’m deeply sorry sir, i- I’ll make sure it doesn't happen again” 

“Someone get this dead body out of the way, General Marcus will reach anytime soon!”

The level D mortuary workers carried the crate with my father in it towards the burning truck. I bit back a protest on the tip of my tongue. I didn't want my father to leave yet. The burning truck takes the bodies out the back of the city to get disposed of by being burnt or dumped in a pile for scavenger birds.

 Sorry, father, I hope you understand, I can't take you to see clarabella one last time. Forgive me. At this point, I was used to death. Even if I wanted, no tears brimed my eyes.

Luckily I moved away when I did because the next moment I saw another level D thrown away from the same spot I was in. I quickly got to my feet and scampered to my sister grabbing her towards behind the butcher carts.

“Luca? What- “

“quiet Bella, don't say anything now general Marcus is here” I tugged at her wrist to get behind me as if my scrawny figure could protect her from anything.