The Demonlord Chronicles

Chapter III – The Darkness of Light
16.
Srazih and Rathorn were sitting hidden in the canopy of a tree close to the jungle’s boarder. Just fifty meters off,eyeing the single figure which was approaching the human camp.
“I... She is a Banished... but...” the elder started to whisper. “I still do not approve of this plan.”
Srazih frowned. “Me neither... but try telling that to her.”
The figure, wearing a long, brown coat, kept walking forward, either ignoring or unknowing of the two dozen bows direct at her frame. A soldier with decorated armor, probably an officer, was waiting there, in the entry of this camp, flanked by two guards with long pikes.
As soon as the figure was close enough to possibly do just something, the pikes were brought down, aiming at her. In case she were to lunge forward, she wouldn’t be able to reach the captain with any sort of dagger.
However, the figure didn’t appear to be interested in attack any of the humans and instead, slowly, not to scare somebody with hasty movements, reached for the hood of her robe, pulling it back, reavealing the face of a particular young Wolven.
“Hel-looo!” She squealed, in understandable, though heavyly accented Human language.
“What do you want, beast?” the captain responded harshly. Somewhere on the palisades of the camp, some soldiers appeared to be whispering. Srazih couldn’t hear much, but she managed to pickup the words ‘just a child’. A devillish grin ran across her face. 
“I want to play with you! Do you have toys for me?” the Wolven girl asked with a voice which would probably have molten the heart of every Wolven adult.
“What the heck? Get lost, brat, or we will pierce your head onto a spear as a message for your wolfpack!”
“Aww....” the girl appeared disappointed. “What is your name?” she suddenly asked, hopping on the spot and eyeing the officer curiously.
“My name is of no concern for you.” Srazih could spot the man’s face taking on a worried tone. She chuckled when she understood the man was probably afraid of being cursed if he would tell his name to her. Or something along those lines...
“Oh... well... do you want to hear my name?” the girl asked, all innocently.
Srazih turned her head to the elder next to her. “Brace yourself, it would be bad to be shaken off and revealed...”
“Why would I want to know your name, beast?” the captain answered in slight confusion.
The girl squealed happyly. “Because it’s beautiful!”
“Beautiful? I strongly doubt you werewolven can possibly create anything beautiful, not even names...”
“How can you say that?!” the girl complained in childish anger. “You didn’t even hear it yet!”
“Well, then prove me wrong.” The captain chuckled. “What’s your name, little lady?”
The Wolven started jumping on the spot again. “It’s really neat. My name is...” Suddenly she stumbled backwards and reached for her throat. Srazih’s fur stiffened up when she saw the shaft of the arrow which had hit her neck.
Stumbling around, Armageddon quickly realized the wound would probably prove fatal. She stood firm and raised her hands and... fell over into the mud, a second arrow’s shaft emerging from her forehead. A slight, red line of blood was running over her head and onto the ground.
The arrow had a strange color... silver... and the fletching was golden.
Given the glance of light, Srazih quickly spotted the archer who had fired these shots: An angel was standing at one of the towers, a large, golden bow in his hand, taut and... aiming for Srazih and Rathorn!
“Quick, down!” Srazih commanded and jumped off the tree, hearing the hiss of an arrow and the sound of metal impacting against wood. Landing on a lower branch, she quickly propelled herself forward, deeper into the jungle, taking mere seconds to disappear into the tighter canopy. She dashed a couple more trees further, then turned around to check for Rathorn.
It was now when she noticed he wasn’t here. And she couldn’t hear him jumping through the bushed and branches. Carefully sneaking to a stronger branch, the Wolven wrapped her legs around the wooden arm, and let herself fall downward, her head barely pushing out of the canopy.
There she saw him... Still sitting on the trench. An arrow, through his chest, pinning him to the tree. He had been to slow... “Damn it!” Srazih sweared and quickly turned off, heading back to the village.

“Simple...” Pestilence raised his hands, touching each of the both Wolven’s shoulders. “Now you’re carrying an extremely contagious disease. It does not show any symptom for the first 12 hours, but starts with excessive pain, cramps and ends with deaths after two days. I can cure you by simply touching you... but you need to be back within these 12 hours, or you won’t be able to come back anymore. You understand?”
The two Wolven nodded, grim determination in their looks. Srazih ensured to keep her distance, eyeing the human camp, illuminated by torches, guards patrolling, even more in the night, on the walls. This wouldn’t be easy... but these two were the best hunters in regards to sneaking. If not them, noone could do it.
“Simply touch anyone you pass and try to spit into any source of water or food you can find. Anyone coming into contact with you or an infected good will succumb to this infection as well.” Pestilence continued explaining.
Srazih turned around. She knew this was... well... unhuman. She should probably have slept one or two nights and think about it, instead of right-out accepting Pestilence’s offer in rage about the loss of Rathorn. She should control her feelings better...
“We’ll be going.” One of the hunters announced.
“Good luck... and good hunt!”

“Srazih!” Myra yelled and quickly walked over to Srazih as she was walking onto the clearing. Instantly, the seven other female Wolven as well ceased their activity, curiously coming over to Myra, who had now grabbed Srazih by her shoulders. “Srazih?!”
“It... it...” Srazih appeared sort of... shocked? “They... caught him... and... in a cage... his screams... they... they laughed at him and...” Myrahathika quickly hugged the disturbed Wolven. “I... I knew... we shouldn’t have done it... the gods themselves must have saved the humans... they do not agree to these methods... we... we...”
“Don’t talk nonsense! Geez, imagine Ardan could hear you talking like this! Keep in mind, we’re fighting angels, who would not go for any cruelity if it was of use. Actually, I doubt it was luck, fate or godly intervention, but plainly an angel with healing abilities... I liked Pestilence’s idea, but we should have exspected this...”
“I... two Wolven... dead... my fault...” Myra could fear Srazih whimpering on her shoulder.
It was now when she realized why Ardan had given the gift to her... not to Srazih... she wouldn’t be ready for it. May she didn’t show it... but Srazih’s heart was way too soft, after all.
“Listen, Srazih... Don’t worry... we will avenge them... I will avenge them... and Rathorn. Look!”
Suddenly, a warm light started to glim in between the Wolven. Srazih let go of the hug and stared downwards at the source of the light. “But... what... is that...”
Myrahathika chuckled. “It’s a present Ardan made... We’ll put it to good use... when the time has come...”