Demoa - Dance (2)

The tall man was now leaning against the building where they had spoken to him only moments ago. He still looked thoughtful, though his gaze, sharp and greedy, betrayed him.

"What the hell are you talking about? I suggest you watch your tongue, or I’ll burn it right out of your mouth!" Eri roared, and his staff ignited in flames.

Demoa groaned as a wave of fury in the air overwhelmed part of her Lucidity. A moment later, a crude axe flew from the crowd. Sars barely managed to deflect it with his spear before it could strike Eri square in the chest.

Forcing herself to intensify the peaceful scent, Demoa cried out. Her thoughts were starting to slip, and she could barely keep the image of the shining circle illuminating the field in her mind’s eye.

Eri let out a fierce howl, spinning his staff in search of the attacker. Yet the people around him looked both stunned and bloodthirsty, making it impossible to know who had thrown it. His eyes darted left and right, and Sars shouted warnings into the crowd, which only added more pressure onto Demoa. At last, she gave in with a trembling breath and let the glowing circle fade from her thoughts.

She barely had time to recover before the first woman charged, a sharpened stone in her hand, probably a tool she had once used for cutting. Eri’s burning staff flared up again. Flames burst outward, spreading across the ground and quickly pulling together into a wall of fire. A blazing ring now surrounded them, buying a few precious moments.

"Wait! Please, let’s talk!" Demoa cried, her voice cracking.

"The time for talking is over! Just because you’re lucid doesn’t mean you’re above the rest of us!" Inga shouted back.

Demoa could barely make out her silhouette through the flickering wall of fire. Eri gripped his staff tightly, his teeth bared. A black web was slowly becoming visible across his skin, like the charred remnants of old wounds, and his eyes lost their pupils, making him look feral.

"The golden witch will bring eternal darkness! That’s what the creature told me, the one I saw! Its realm was that of Nightmares! I didn’t want to tell you; I was afraid she’d come… but she’s unconscious now! We can finish her if we manage to put out this fire! Inga, you’ve interacted with her more than any of us. Please, tell us what to do, and we will follow," came Let’s voice through the flames.

To Demoa’s horror, he sounded almost excited. Eager.

"He’s insane!" Eri shouted. "Don’t listen to him, he’s lying!"

The Pilgrim’s voice now sounded deeper than usual.

"Lying? Why would I lie? I heard the words clearly. The words that monster told me with its sadistic glee. It wanted to frighten me, but it foolishly gave me information we should probably not have! Rider! You who seek justice! I am not lying! You, of all people, must know that Elga awakened at the hand of this young witch! You’ve felt the horrors her Lucidity brings. That all Lucidity might bring! You’ve seen the darkness in her heart. But she made a mistake! Even if the Sun shines in the sky now, a beacon for the terrible things of a faraway realm, it has also made us more aware. Aware enough to see how dangerous Lucidity truly is! What do you say, Rider?"

"Yes! I believe him! She’s responsible! She sacrificed Elga to bring the darkness!" Inga’s voice rang out across the square, a terrible certainty in her words.

Demoa shook her head in disbelief as Inga’s shouts echoed around them.

"What do we do?" she whispered.

"We need to run. I could burn part of the crowd with the flames, maybe enough to clear a path, but I won’t wake them. No one. Never again, I can’t do that. Maybe I can carve out an escape ro—" Eri began, but was cut off by a loud hissing sound.

Part of the flame wall protecting them started to emit wheezing steam.

"They’re trying to extinguish it," Olver muttered.

He had moved toward the center of the flaming circle, still carrying Ray, keeping her as far from the crowd as possible.

"They won’t break through that easily. Putting out this fire will take more than a little water," Eri said grimly, though Demoa could see the sweat on his brow.

Sick-looking welts rose and fell on his skin, and the black webbing pulsed like insects crawling beneath his flesh.

Is it true? Is there darkness in his Light as well? No. I will not believe that, I will not! He’s trying to protect us. He always has. I need to trust him. If we fall apart, what is left?

"How much effort is this costing you? How long can you keep it up? What’s happening to you?" she blurted.

The Pilgrim shot her a harsh look. A strange, dark glow burned in his hollow eyes now, and she slapped her hands over her mouth.

"More! More, I don’t think he can hold it much longer!" Let’s voice screeched from somewhere outside.

Damn it. Why can’t he ever shut up? Demoa thought.

Her limbs trembled now, and it wasn’t only exhaustion anymore. The hissing of evaporating water grew louder, more frequent. It wasn’t only steam rising from the flames now; some drops glowed white-hot, falling short but eating into the ground where they landed, releasing a foul, burning stench.

"They’re throwing things… probably weapons and tools too," Sars growled.

He moved in front of Olver, positioning himself to defend Ray if it came to that.

Suddenly, the wall of fire surged, and Eri let out a gasp, sharp and desperate. He shut his eyes, breathing hard, trembling, his lips quivering. "I… I can’t hold it much longer… I’ve never held back this many projectiles without… I’ll try to burn a path for you. You run. Leave me behind…" he growled, barely above a whisper now, which frightened Demoa more than his usual harsh voice.

Then he dropped to his knees, hands locked around his staff, his body twitching. A cry tore from his mouth, not human but a wild, anguished roar, like a cornered animal—or a monster.

“Eri, they’re all around us. They’ll simply circle back if you burn a path! Can’t you run and take this protective fire with you?” Olver asked, staring into the flames.

He shifted Ray from his shoulder and now held her against his chest. Her head hung limp, still showing no sign of movement.

Damn it, Ray! Come back. We need you! This whole thing started because of your madness! Demoa cursed.

“I… no. I don’t have enough… Lucidity. I can’t leave this spot. I can only keep this ridiculous remaining bonfire going until…”

Demoa’s thoughts stumbled over themselves. His words echoed strangely in her head. She stared into the fire, and suddenly it looked different. Alive. Wild. Dancing in manic delight.

Ridiculous… bonfire…

Something rose up inside her. Images surged into her mind. A field, green and scattered with colorful flowers, the air rich with scent. A warm day. The Sun above. And people... so many people... dancing around a blazing fire at the center of it all. And soon, it was only the figures that mattered. Dancers laughing and spinning, carefree and light. Simply happy. How wonderful it would be if everyone were happy... all these people, so full of hatred and fear…

Demoa caught the scent again, sweet and heady, and realized it was coming from her, seeping out of her skin. It was stronger now, richer. Alongside the floral sweetness came a new note: relief, joy, celebration. She felt a cloud, unseen yet undeniably hers, drifting outward from within her. Again, the inner images took over: the soothing smells, the gentle breeze on that festival field in her mind, the figures dancing in circles around a bonfire of delight…

Without realizing it, she had started to dance.

First slow, slightly awkward. Then faster, her steps wider, tracing a circle on the ground. The motion felt good. Freeing. She let herself go, gave in to the joy radiating from that inner world, from the quiet satisfaction that lived among the vibrant flowers in her mind. Something was flowing through her. It reminded her of the light she had opened herself to before, but this felt different.

More personal. More powerful.

She barely noticed when the fire around them died down completely and Eri collapsed to the ground. The strange markings on his skin faded as he slumped, shame-faced and defeated. Laughter burst out around them, loud and contagious. Sars, Olver, even Inga joined in, and soon the whole crowd was cheering, their bodies swaying to some quiet rhythm, moving in time with Demoa’s dance.

Only Eri looked up at her, exhausted, panting.

“NOT US! Pull it back from us,” he croaked.

But Demoa didn’t care. She was in too good a mood. Finally, all the terrible things were fading: the sensation of burning eyes, of biting pain, of loss, of fear. She could leave those horrors behind and dance… dance as if she were surrounded by the dancers on the meadow within her soul…

“Not us!” Eri roared now, forcing himself to his feet.

Not them, Demoa thought. Yes… they have other plans. They have to keep going…

She felt a flicker of sadness, knowing her companions were about to leave.

Why though? She still had all these people around her, keeping her company…

She didn’t know how, yet her joy pulled away from her companions. And then, they stared at her in stunned silence. She didn’t care. Not even when Eri shot her one of his dark, furious looks. She only laughed, remembering that it used to matter to her.

But not anymore. Not now. Now she floated above such foolish things.

“Go on. I’ll stay here… I’ll dance with them, have fun with them while the darkness comes. We’re all dancing into the dark together, facing down all the ridiculous things inside it. What is there to fear?” Demoa called out, spinning lightly on her heel, swaying her hips to the silent melodies drifting on the perfume-filled air.

“Demoa, no! You’re coming with us! You’re coming to the monastery! If you stay here—” Eri shouted, trying to run toward her, but Sars held him back.

“No! What are we supposed to do, risk waking, us or them?” the hunter yelled over the swelling chorus of strange, joyous singing that now rose from the throats of the dancers around them.

“I’m staying. Take Ray to the monastery. I’m having so much fun…” Demoa giggled, determined.