Demons
“Nontu,” the little girl’s green eyes gazed up at her father stubbornly, pulling on the hem of his shirt, uncharacteristically exposed with the lack of armor. “What’s taking nomon so long?” The battle hardened warrior looked down at his daughter, fierce golden brown eyes soft and warm when he gazed at the seven year old, who was already much too mature for her age.
He had worried when Shaman had come to visit their village of TonDC, as she did every year, to assign the children their roles. While the others were sorted into warriors, healers, and farmers, his little yongon had been given an eerie smile and been told to wait one year, before her training began. Lexa didn’t understand what that meant at the time, but her mother and father had. Usually, parents would be proud when they learned their child had been chosen to be the next Commander, but Rain and Myko had wept, knowing their daughter would be taken from them.
“The fisa says there is a surprise,” he responded softly, covering his daughter’s ears so she didn’t hear her mother’s cries, “instead of getting one goufa, your mother is getting two.” Lexa perked up at this news, beaming up at her father.
“That means I’ll have two yongons to teach when the Shaman takes me to train!” she babbled excitedly, looking over her father’s shoulder to the closed room where her mother was with the frisa. She still didn’t quite understand the weight of the responsibilities soon to be placed on her shoulders, and Myko didn’t have the heart to tell her. He didn’t want to see the light leave his little one’s eyes.
As a second cry joined the first one, he stole another glance at the bright green eyes of his daughter, still filled with childish wonder.
The frisa exited the room, looking tired, but pleased.
“You can go in now,” she instructed them, before crouching down to Lexa’s level, “you must be gentle with your nomon and the goufas, sha?”
“Sha, frisa,” Lexa confirmed, before hurrying into the room with her father, and instantly attaching herself to her mother’s side. The two small bundles cradled in her mother’s arms were entirely unimpressive, but she felt compelled to them immediately, a strong protective urge filling her small body.
“Meet your little bro en sis, Leksa,” Rain said softly, a smile gracing her face, “Nico and Nyx.” At that moment, Lexa swore to protect the two, and teach them everything she knew.
But even the best laid plans can be broken.
Lexa is sixteen years old and she is already the Commander.
The weight of the responsibility lies heavily on her shoulders, but she knew that she’d be able to handle it. After all, the previous heda, Naomi, had been training her from the tender age of eight to be able to handle the pressure. But still, the knowledge that she now belonged to her people, and had a duty to serve them, to die for them… it was not knowledge most sixteen year olds would be able to handle.
Which is why she’d returned to her home village of TonDC.
She rode elegantly on her white horse, Hecate, head held up proud as she observed the place she’d grown up. Besides her was a speckled grey horse, mounted by the girl who held Lexa’s attention every waking moment of the day, and every moment beyond as well.
Her hair was dark and curly, untamed by braids, bouncing freely. Her skin was dark, not as dark as Indra’s, but much darker than her own, and her eyes were rich like the ground, filled with life. Costia had been a lifesaver for Lexa, having been chosen to be Gustus’s second while Lexa was trained by Anya and Indra. They’d grown up together here, along with Costia’s younger brother, Lincoln, who had seen fourteen winters, and he was being trained by a patient man named Pollux.
“Sis!” A wide grin stretched across Lexa’s face as she hopped off of her horse, only to be bombarded by two sturdy pairs of little arms. This was why she’d returned. Lexa laughed as Nico began talking at miles a minute, making wide gestures with his hands, while Nyx nodded along with everything he was saying.
They were special, without a doubt. Of course, Lexa was biased, because she loved her bro and sis more than just about anyone in the world (except for maybe Costia), but it went beyond that. She could still remember the dread that had filled her belly when she was still a little girl when the murky blue color found in all newborns faded, only to reveal mismatched eyes. Nico’s right was golden brown, like their father, and his left was forest green, like their mother and Lexa’s own. Nyx’s eyes were the opposite, green right and brown left. In their culture, any and all defects, whether or not they were beautiful, cost children their lives.
But Lexa had been blessed, because the Shaman had come that day to collect her, and turned her eerie, clouded gaze upon the crying twins, and saved them both. Nico was destined, as it seemed, to be a warrior, who would serve in his sister’s army as soon as he was given the chance, and his quieter counterpart was to be the next Shaman. It was a great honor, but also came with even greater responsibilities. As Lexa observed the petite nine year old, running her fingers through Costia’s hair, she felt a pang of regret that her siblings couldn’t live normal childhoods. They were cursed, as it seemed.
“...and Lincoln taught me how to make paints the other day!” Nico continued excitedly, switching to English, which all children had to learn. “He and Nyko took me into the forest to collect the petals to make paste, and then Nyx helped me paint!”
“It’s a lot pretty than your paint, sis,” Nyx added with a small smile, and Lexa laughed at her.
“Well, warpaint is supposed to look intimidating, not pretty,” Lexa reasoned, and her little sister just stuck her tongue out at her. Costia batted her eyelashes rapidly, making Lexa swallow.
“I don’t know about that, heda, I think your warpaint makes you look very pretty.” While Nyx and Nico were perhaps too young still to fully grasp the idea of relationships, they were old enough to know when their sister was flirting with someone, or being flirted with, and they both pulled equally disgusted faces, Nyx even going so far as to reprimandingly thump Costia on the head, little hands still busying themselves playing with the older girl’s hair.
“Alright, alright, yongon,” Costia laughed, “I won’t flirt with your sis in front of you two, but I can’t promise when you’re gone.” It was only her training at remaining stoic that prevented Lexa from flushing, and the two little rascals giggled at her expense.
“Nico, Nyx, you aren’t teasing your sis, are you?” Lexa heaved a sigh of relief as she heard the familiar soft voice of Rain, who ruffled Nico’s hair fondly before capturing her oldest child in a hug.
“Of course not, nomon,” Nyx assured seriously, continuing her endeavor to fill Costia’s hair with small yellow flowers, “nobody can tease heda, after all.”
“But nothing says heda can’t tease her sis,” Lexa shot back, snatching the giggling nine year old off of Costia’s shoulders and tossing the struggling girl over her own, taking time to tickle her sides, which caused the usually soft-spoken girl to screech with laughter.
“Lexa stop! Beja, Leksa! Stoooop!” Lexa tossed the girl into the air, a casual display of her strength, and Nyx twisted in the air gracefully, before she was caught by the wider arms of their father, Myko.
“Welcome home, yongplan,” he greeted, eyes shining, “you as well, Costia. I hope you’re keeping my daughter in line?”
“Sha, Myko,” Costia responded, “but you know how hardheaded she can be, even moreso now that she’s heda.” Lexa grumbled, shaking her head.
“Enough poking fun at me, I came here to spend time with my family, not be constantly degraded by the people who’re supposed to love and support me.” She cast a sidelong glance at her generals. “And I think Indra, Anya, and Gustus might explode. After all, it doesn’t suit heda to show emotions, particularly in jest.”
Nyx was running. Her legs were longer, her head held higher, and she ran as though her life depended on it. The green blur of trees surrounded her as she wove her way through the forest, and she felt words tearing themselves from her throat without her consent.
“NICO! NICO!” After a few more moments of running, she found him. He was taller, like her, and had filled out his body more, and he ran towards her and held her as though his life depended on it. He pointed frantically at the sky, where a large burning object was falling.
“What’s happening?” he asked, and Nyx was shocked at how deep it was. He sounded more like their father than the little boy she knew now. “Is the world ending?”
“No,” Nyx heard herself say, “wanheda falls from the sky.”
The scene changed quickly, greens and blues melting into dark greys and the bright orange-red of fire. She could feel tears running down her cheeks, and was once more closer to the ground. Nico was next to her, glaring defiantly forward, and they were both slightly tucked behind the familiar lithe form of Costia.
She peeked out from her position behind Costia’s arm, and felt her blood run cold.
Poised elegantly atop a white marble throne sat a regal looking woman with sharp cheekbones, a scar curling around her narrowed eyes. The intricate braids and throne, paired with the white warpaint, told Nyx all she needed to know.
This was Nia, the Queen of the Ice Nation.
“Please,” Costia was pleading, “don’t hurt them, they’re just yongons. None of this needs to happen, I’m sure if you petition heda for peace talks you could work something out-” Costia was floundering, and Nyx had never seen the older girl so uncomposed, except for the time the previous summer when the twins had crept into their sister’s room only to find the darker skinned girl already there. Queen Nia cut her off with a wave of her hand, eyes narrowing even further, if that was possible.
“Silence,” her voice was as cold as the room they were in, and Nyx could see her brother shaking like a leaf, their breath visible in the crisp air. “I have to wish for peace.”
A whimper snuck out of Nyx’s throat, and she slunk further into Costia’s side as Nia’s steely gaze fixed itself onto her, breath hitching at the malicious smile.
“I wish to send a message to your heda,” she spat the word like a curse, lip curling, “the Trigedakru always think they’re so high-and-mighty. But I’m here to prove that the Queen bows to nobody.” She motioned to two of the guards. “Restrain her.”
“No!” Nyx felt herself scream as she was wrenched from Costia’s side, making feeble attempts to flee alongside her brother, who’d bitten one guard and was now being held down by two. “COSTIA!”
The girl smiled sadly at the two of them, shaking her head as she let herself be lead towards the queen, before being forced down on her knees.
“You two will be great,” she called out to them, “stay safe, stay together. When you next see your sister, tell her I love her.” She faltered in her composure as Nia stood, drawing her sword, and Nyx could see a tear make its way in solitude down her cheek. “Look away, beja, Nico, Nyx, look away.”
A raw, unholy scream rose from both twins throats as they struggled even harder, kicking and clawing and biting and scratching. But nothing they did could stop Nia from aiming and ending Costia’s fight with one strong swing. Nyx wished she’d looked away, as she saw the head that once stood so proud, with bouncy hair she’d just filled with flowers, roll off of her shoulders and onto the floor.
She woke up with a gasp, eyes watering, looking around wildly, and was about to let a sigh of relief escape her until she felt the hand over her mouth, a sharp knife pressed to her throat. Flickering eyes confirmed the dread in her stomach.
White war paint.