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The Black-Feathered Monk

Chapter 13

By Draconicon

It took two days to return to the Temple of Talon and Quill, and during that time, both Silra and the Hound of the High Passes did more to contain their demonic prisoners than he did. Satres clenched his beak, reminding himself that he was injured, coming to terms with a great deal of damage that had been done to him, but he felt no better for it. The responsibility that he had assumed, that of finding demons that might be rehabilitated and taught control, meant that he had to be better than he was. He had to be better than good; he had to be the best.

But with the inability to fight them and being forced to leave that to his companions if the demons made a break for it, he took his time to speak to the imps, as well as to their leader, the eagle Toku. They were not particularly eager to spend their time talking with a mortal, but with little more than the long walks and longer nights to look forward to, they broke down out of boredom.

Satres took the opening to listen to them, and, perhaps, that was the key. The imps had never had someone do that before, and Toku, while not particularly happy with the limitations he was working under, still wanted to rant and rave. They all had something to say, something to let loose.

Satres listened, and the demons, once exhausted, returned the favor. Not entirely willingly, but they returned it.

The raven spoke of the benefits of staying on the surface, and he told them of the mortal concept of buying and selling, rather than just taking what they wished. He told them that there were those that had offered pain to Silra. Even that was not quite a lie, as he had done that himself, but if they could eat something else, if they could feed on other things, doubtlessly there would be mortals that would allow it, if they got something out of it.

He had no idea what inroads he made over their travels, but he had, at least, offered them something. It was meager, it was little more than an explanation, but he had managed to make his points in a way that they could understand.

The dawn of the third day came, and they arrived at the outskirts of the Temple of Talon and Quill. The gaps in the walls were no longer sealed merely with rubble, but with the webbing of the spider that he had left behind. His charge had clearly taken the time to work up the defenses, doing what it could to make its home better.

The Hound of the High Passes stood beside him, shaking its head from side to side. Its ears pricked forward, then folded back.

" There is another waiting for you."

"Yes. I know."

" You know?"

"A spider demon. It was released, since it learned Chiang-Shol's lessons."

" Heh..."

"What?"

" You speak as if that fixes a demon."

"Does it not?"

" I believe you know the answer to that, raven."

Satres slowly shook his head, sighing under his breath. He remembered his plunge into the darkness, and more, he remembered the demon that had lived in the ladder-space. It had ruled itself by its own laws, made its own rules to allow itself to have self-control...

Except that it wasn't control that it had. It was chains, and restrictions. It was slavery. Slavery to itself, yes, but slavery nonetheless.

"It's a start," he muttered.

" A most painful start. And one I doubt that they will accept."

"It's the only way we have. Otherwise -"

" You need not kill them. I will take care of it."

For a moment, he was almost tempted. But only for a moment.

"No. I gave my word. And I will keep it."

" As you will. This is where I leave you, Satres of the Temple of Talon and Quill. Be well, and guard yourself. Not all demons will fall so easily."

The great hound of wind and darkness turned, and in an instant, was gone.

Silra replaced the monster at his side, the songbird shaking her head. The demons stood behind them, still restrained at the wrist and ankles. The imps were able to flap along, though slower than they likely wanted to, while Toku was forced to hop like a lower demon himself. The songbird sighed.

"You're determined about this?"

"They need to have the choice," he repeated.

"They're going to disappoint you."

"I'm hoping for a surprise. Maybe life will favor me with one that I want."

"Heh...hoping for fate to be kind is like hoping for rain in the desert. When you get it, you will receive more than you truly want, and may be killed by it."

"We will see."

They marched across the flatter plateau that surrounded the temple, heading to the front gate. The spider demon crawled across the rooftops of the lower levels of the temple, barely in view if you knew what to look for. Satres marked it, nodded slightly, and the giant creature slid behind the building properly. Was it bigger? It might have been.

Shaking his head, he turned to the demons as they joined him in the courtyard of the temple. They looked at him with expressions that ranged from annoyance to disdain and then back again. They ran the gamut of feelings, but the imps, at least, had some curiosity to their faces.

"There is a door in this temple. A door that leads to a prison created by Chiang-Shol."

The demons stiffened, particularly Toku. The eagle hissed through his nostrils, shaking his head as Satres continued.

"It was built to teach demons control. He established it as a place that, once you enter, you will not be able to escape without learning how to deny your instincts, to control yourself, to be better than when you entered it. I have seen how it works. I have seen demons learn ways of holding back.

"I want you to be better than that. I offer you the choice. You can stay out here, with me, and learn how to be better...or you can be placed in there, and be made to learn it his way."

"Kill me, then." Toku shook his head. "A demon like that...is no demon."

"That's not an option."

"I don't care."

"Then you refuse?"

Satres let that hang in the air. There was every reason to want to stay out of the prison, he had thought. There were lighter constraints in the grounds of the temple, less horrifying concepts. They would be around demons that they knew, rather than the inmates that had been shoved beneath the temple. For that matter, it would be easier to escape up here than it would be down there.

Was the idea of changing so hard for a demon to accept? Would they truly wish to die rather than control themselves?

Toku narrowed his eyes, his arms bunching up as he threatened to burst his bonds. However, try as he might, the ropes would not break. The eagle groaned, lowering his head.

"I will not be broken. I will not be...controlled!"

"Not even by yourself?"

"No demon submits to that. Has she?"

As Toku gestured at Silra, the songbird bristled. Satres sighed, shaking his head.

"Then, as I said...it shall be the dungeon. And the rest of you?"

The imps looked at one another, several of them fluttering a little harder for a moment or two before the binding glow of his chi markings brought them down. Of the six imps, three gradually drifted towards the eagle demon, while the other three looked around. Eventually, one of them - possessed of a scarred wing - turned to the raven.

"What will you do?" it asked.

"I will give you rules. And if you abide by them, then you will be allowed to do what you want."

"How many?"

"Three."

"That all?"

"That's all."

The imp nodded, fluttering its wings and gradually drifting towards the raven. The other two followed, leaving the squad of demons split almost right down the middle. It wasn't much, and it wasn't the support of the greater demon that he would have liked, but it was something, and that was far better than nothing.

Toku said nothing. It seemed he was resigned to the role of prisoner. A pity.

The three imps went down the ladder first. They screamed as their wings were rendered useless, the power of the prison sucking them in faster than what had happened to Satres when he climbed down. He swore that he heard something else as they went down, but he hoped that it was merely their landing.

With each imp that disappeared, Toku looked slightly less sure of himself. The eagle didn't pale, but he did start shifting from talon to talon, looking over his shoulder at the other ladder out of the basement. He refused to look at the metallic door that marked the entrance to the prison, either, almost as if looking at it would suck him in. Perhaps it would; Satres didn't know the magics of demons so clearly as he had once thought.

"I'm sorry, but this is your decision, Toku...unless you wish to change it?" he asked.

The demon hesitated. For a moment, it seemed that he might take the offer of a kinder rehabilitation.

And then the moment passed. He snarled past his beak.

"Never."

"Then I am very sorry."

Silra had to help him push the demon down, and as he went through the portal, the eagle screamed in some guttural tone that the raven could not understand. He disappeared into the black, fading away. They shut the door, and Satres shook his head.

"Why would he prefer that?" he muttered.

"You gave him no choice."

"I did. I told him -"

"Do you think any demon wants to obey a mortal?"

"The imps aren't having a problem with it."

"They're servants already; they don't count," Silra said. "He was a commander, a demon of power. You told him that his choice was to lose his identity to you, or to fall somewhere that might be broken, one day. He decided to take his chances."

He didn't understand, and he was starting to wonder if he ever would. His one consolation was that, at least, there were some demons that were willing to try and learn. The raven sighed, making his way to the ladder and climbing back up to the surface. The three imps waited for them at the door, each one dangling from the restraining silk strings that the spider demon had cast down.

"You can let them go now," Satres said.

"As you wish, Father."

The spider cut its silk with one long leg, wielding it almost like a blade. The imps fluttered to the ground, resting there.

"What rules?" the scarred-wing one asked.

"First. What do you eat?"

"Hunger."

"...Pain, lust, and now hunger," the raven muttered under his breath. "Very strange..."

His curiosity as to what drew the demons to feed on such different things would have to wait. For now, that gave him something to work with, and at least this was an easier thing to feed than the prior two. Hunger came regularly. Too regularly, for some.

"First. You will not feed outside the grounds of the temple. If you have need to feed, you will tell me, and I'll find a way to make sure that you get what you need, but you will not go searching for it. Understand?"

The imps nodded. At least they were good with that; for all he knew, they were probably happy to have someone harvesting their food for them. It was probably a nice change compared to their servile life.

"Second. You will not harm someone else without them attempting to harm you first. You may not start a fight, but you may fight back if someone attempts to hurt you. This doesn't mean that you can start a fight or provoke it, merely that you can fight back to protect yourself. Understand?"

"...We can...protect ourselves?" one of the other imps asked.

"...Yes. You can."

"This allowed?" Scarred-Wing asked.

"Yes. If someone tries to hurt you, you can stop them."

The imps stared at him, obviously shocked by something, and turned to mutter among themselves. Satres, again, wondered just how insane demon society actually was. They were afraid of control, but wielded it quite heavy-handedly against those that lived under them, like the imps.

Were they just supposed to take it every time? Or was that the way that they expected me to be?

Either way, there was one more rule. He waited for them to tell him they understood, and moved on.

"Three. If you feel the urge to do something, always ask why. Ask yourself why you want to do this thing. Why do you want this? Why do you need to do this? Ask yourself that every time."

"But that take forever," Scarred-Wing said.

"It will get easier as time goes on. You'll live here, and you'll follow my orders to help out, but those are your rules. I hope - I think - that you will prefer this. And as time goes on -"

"Father. A moment."

Satres blinked, looking upwards. His 'son' was looking out at the slopes, eyes narrowed.

"What is it?"

"Someone approaches. A farmer, I believe."

A farmer. One of those that had lived up here, or one that had come from further down the mountain for more news? Or -

It didn't matter. What mattered was that he had demons on the ground that he couldn't allow the farmer to see. If news of that spread, he would not have the chance to explain himself. He would be seen as a corrupted monk, nothing more than a tool of the demons. If he didn't do something about this -

"Father? Shall I -"

"Do nothing. I'll handle this."

Satres ran, though not as fast as he wished he could have. Exhaustion and injuries were still keeping up with him, and it meant that he didn't have the speed and stamina that he'd once enjoyed.

Still, he reached the gates of the temple before the farmer did. A gray-feathered pigeon looked up at him as he appeared so suddenly, stopping in his tracks. Soft leathers and furs covered him, making him look slightly wealthier than the average farmer. A man from the towns below, then.

"What brings you here, good sir?" Satres asked.

"I...I come to ask charity," the pigeon said, lowering his head in embarrassment. "There is a shortage below, and..."

And he hoped that there would be something that he could beg for from the temple, as there had been in times past. Satres hid the wince that started at his hands, making himself stay as still and calm as he could. The temples had always given charity when they could, and his old masters would have been most disappointed in him if he just sent the pigeon away, particularly when they still had some stores to work with.

Hopefully, I can keep him distracted.

"Come in. We have little left, but I will see what I can find."

"Thank you, sir."

The townsman followed him through the gates. Satres flicked a glance back towards the temple tower, but there was nothing to be seen there. Good; it seemed that the spider demon had hidden the others. Or at least, that was what he hoped.

The pigeon groaned, almost collapsing for a moment as he held his stomach. Satres caught him, holding him up.

"What's wrong?"

"It's been three days..."

"Three days...since you've eaten?"

The pigeon could only nod, groaning as he held himself. Satres clicked his beak, remembering how the presence of pain had tempted and taunted Silra. If this was the same for the imps...

"Come. Come with me."

He hurried the pigeon across the grounds, almost dragging him at times, until they reached the front door to the temple. The door was shut, locked. He had forgotten about that; he'd closed it tight before they'd left for the Temple of the Eye.

As he reached down to unlock it, he heard the flutter of wings. The raven turned -

But too late. The imp had already seized the pigeon from behind. As Satres regretted his decision to allow them freedom, however, the imp...surprised him.

Rather than biting down, the hellish creature held the pigeon around the waist, almost like a hug, and opened its jaws against the waist. As it gummed on the pigeon, the other man - though understandably startled and afraid - almost seemed to steady himself. It was as if the pain of his hunger was...

They feed on hunger...

As Silra fed on his pain, it had faded. As the imp fed on the townsman's hunger, it drifted away, fading into something like nothingness. It was a gift in its own way.

"What is this?" the pigeon asked, snapping Satres out of his thoughts. "What...what's it doing to me?"

"...We have much to discuss, sir. Please. Inside."

Silra watched from the walls as her 'master' took the other bird inside. It was hardly something worth attending, but she knew that the imps would be paying close attention. When hunger reached the point of causing pain that she could feel, then it was true hunger.

Once they passed through the doors, however, she turned her attention back to the mountain. The great peak still loomed over them, and the demons were still there. Though they hadn't come down from the high passes again to try their luck, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer they had.

She ran her fingers over her hip, feeling the glowing letters of chi for the hundredth time in the last hour. Everything she did was constrained by them, by the rule to cause no harm. It rankled, reminding her of what she was forbidden to do, and making it that much harder to not want it all the more.

The songbird sighed, lowering her head. If she could have just -

Something moved on the slope, and her attention flicked from herself to it instantly. She dropped from the wall, her arms flicking from grasping limbs to feathered wings, and she took to the skies. Dive, swoop, lift -

There. A smaller demon, greater than an imp but lesser than Toku had been, was wandering through the rocks further up the slope. It bore the chi of the pain-eaters, too.

Silra did not give warning. Instead, she climbed another hundred feet, and then, she sang. Words of agony, words of bone-breaking, limb-shattering horror echoed from her beak, calling down the mountain. There was no fear for the raven or his spider; they were inside, away from her call.

But the orc-like demon was not. It keeled over instantly, its legs splayed out as if they were broken, and its arms followed shortly after. She dove down, landing, with one taloned foot over its chest.

"You are a long way from home, little one," she whispered. "Why are you here?"

"Is true? King's dead?" the orc-thing asked.

"Very dead."

"Then succession -"

"None of them are strong enough," she said. "It'll split the whole group."

"Need King. One King or other."

"Then they still want the temple?"

"Everything. Want everything."

"...Like always."

"Singer of Pain. Come back?"

Silra's eyes narrowed. The name, the old name. She curled her talons, and the claws dug through the demon's chest. As he screamed, she ripped her leg back, her talons clenched around his heart.

"That is the old name. No more."

As she tossed the heart away, she sang again. Agony would keep the soul around, and that agony would be a fine feast. After all, she was not bound to not harm demons, so long as Satres wasn't around to see it.

Cannibalism was a sad thing, but needs must.

The End

Summary: Satres brings the demons back to his temple and offers them a choice. Silra has an angry moment.

Tags: No sex, raven, songbird, eagle, demon, imp, feeding, death, fight, magic, series, patreon, mysticism, eastern,