This sigil wasn't there before.
Not yesterday. Not an hour ago. Not even a second.
It just materialized before my eyes, as if an invisible blacksmith had snuck over my shoulder and etched this into the bottom of the dagger right between the vast, elongated time of a blink.
My grip tightened.
'What the hell is this...?'
The insignia looked like a perfectly round circle, with a crack down the middle separating it into two. One side was colored white, and the other side black. It presented a yin and yang feel, as if two opposing colors were coming together, or focusing more on the crack in the middle, maybe they were two clashing sides. Two brand new wavy lines converged at the top, swooped down over the front and then disappeared behind, covering the top half of the split-circle almost like a hood.
'I've swung, thrown, and stabbed with this dagger countless times. I've dropped it, tried to sharpen it, and even dropped hammers and anvils on it, and I've never once seen it chip or crack. Where the hell did this come from all of a sudden?'
And the most confusing part?
I feel like I've seen it somewhere before.
'Probably one of the many days and nights my parents spent obsessing in the research "labs" trying to put together the pieces of a seemingly impossible puzzle.'
At least when things were good.
Every time it felt like they got close to something, just nearing a breakthrough, everything seemed to shatter.
Now it had surfaced again, sitting silently on the gold plated pommel of my onyx black dagger, looming with presence.
'None of this makes any sense. I just need a win for today. Heavens forsake me for my curiosity.'
With a sigh, I slipped the dagger back into its makeshift sheath, stood up and wiped the soot and ash off of my pants and shirt from the bench.
'Can't even sit in this damn place.'
Cutting through crowds of people packed into the narrow, ash-infested strip of markets and blacksmiths, I made my way over to the research labs.
People were packed so tightly here that it was almost impossible to avoid running into someone if you weren't quick, and even harder to avoid hearing the constant buzzing of conversation in every direction.
Not to mention the constant clanging of hammers against metal, from the blacksmiths crafting a likely poorly-made miscellaneous item and then trying to overprice it, knowing damn well nobody around here has the money to pay.
Although this time, there was a third sound. One much more distant and out of place.
It seemed like the faint sound of children yelling and playing around with each other, somehow bold enough to play a game on the black, ashen icing that caked every inch of the ground.
'No one is that desperate for respiratory issues. It has to be something else.'
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but massive, smoke inducing industrial buildings, constantly saturating the air with a thick, black fog.
Dark clouds clogged the air and enveloped the top of the buildings, making it hard to see how the stone spires scraped the skies above them, as if reaching for freedom from this accursed land.
Everything and everyone around you was constantly trying to wring you dry of whatever remained of your soul after surviving years in this withered land.
Clang.
"Hey, would you like to buy my horribly tattered shield? It's guaranteed to protect from at least the strongest of wind gusts!"
They proudly announce as they hammer down on a clearly flimsy piece of metal, sending crimson-orange sparks into the air providing just about the only light source there is at night here.
Obviously, other than the exquisite merchant shops and their dimly lit torches propped up at just the perfect angle so that you can hardly see what debris they have on sale for you this time.
Flap.
"Hey, would you like to buy my ludicrous concoction of assorted liquids I obtained from the crevices of an abandoned alleyway? It'll surely turn you into a whole new person!"
'Now that I don't doubt.'
And Heavens forbid you do so much as to graze one of the multitude of very tightly packed people walking any which way in the strips.
Step.
"Hey, would you like to die? Cause I'll surely give you a grand sendoff!"
'How alluring.'
Finally approaching some open space, I walked and weaved faster and faster, restless to separate myself from the encapsulation of this tight strip of land and gain some breathing room.
Boots crunching on the layers of soot-covered ground, holding my breath, I finally made it out and into a more open, circular plaza.
The only exit was a connecting strip on the other side of the plaza, which I dreaded every second of entering, so I decided to take a moment to have a breath to myself and lean against the tall building behind me.
Big mistake.
The dark plaza was open and still. The only sound present was the slowly approaching echo of the children screaming and running in my direction.
It was actually too open. Eerily so.
The only two openings connecting this plaza to the rest of the city were the strips behind me and in front of me, and of course, up. Straight into the endless abyss of the permanently thundering dark clouds.
Not that anyone could go that direction anyway.
The sound of screaming ripped me back into the moment.
I realized no one was playing at all.
People came flooding in from the plaza across from me, frantically screaming and running, knocking and trampling over each other.
The loud drumming of feet and the sound of blood splattering stained the scenery and echoed through the air.
It felt like it was surrounding me, constantly ringing in my ears and taking control of my mind.
Fighting to stay focused, I heard the sound of scratching on the rooftop above me. I turned around and looked up and immediately regretted it.
'It's impossible to stay focused.'
I snapped my head around and looked up, immediately regretting it.
"What the hell is that?"
Its piercing white eyes cut through your skull like bullets. It had a humanoid shape, with contorted and elongated limbs stretching out from its body. It was pitch black, as if consuming all the light around it completely enshrouding it in darkness. Couldn't have been shorter than 8 feet tall, with a wingspan that dared to reach close to that height. It crawled on all fours, twitching and jerking erratically as its long, bloodstained talons scraped against the marred scales of the roof it perched on.
It growled and scratched, clearly itching for its next serving of flesh.
Moments later, a chain wrapped around its misshapen arm, yanking it back from its position.
Off balance, the creature tipped over and its head and body slammed into the scales of the rooftop, shattering them and sending grimy blue shrapnel in every direction.
Flying out from behind, arose a shining silver streak of light, beaming in the night sky.
Polar opposite from the pitch black demon right below it, now rising back up from being smashed against the roof.
Wrongfully feeling relieved, I took a deep breath.
As soon as I finished, I realized that the silver streak was flying directly at my face.
Was I about to figure out what it was by letting it split my face in two? Hell no.
Finally remembering I can move, I instantly pivoted and ran full speed away from whatever on Veloria was behind me.
Covering ground quickly, I heard the foreign object slam into the ground right where I darted from just a moment ago. The volume of the sound it made when it clashed with the ground means I'm a pretty good distance from it, but not a safe one.
'Definitely not a weapon. That crash had no clang to it whatsoever. Sounded more heavy and hard like a human. Must be whoever commanded those chains on that demon earlier.'
If that's true, then why do I hear a pair of feet pounding against the ground headed in my direction from behind me?
All the people who were in the plaza that came from the strip that were across from me were now right ahead of me, so there shouldn't be any footsteps coming from behind. Especially not if that person is here to fight the demon.
Right?
'Maybe there is better positioning somewhere in the plaza that gives them an advantage in the fight.'
Who am I kidding? The only "positioning" you could find in this plaza is the small circular stone campfire built right in the center, that rises about a grand six inches off of the ground. Whatever this silver streak is, it has something else in mind.
As if to answer my suspicions, a strong, feminine voice shouted out.
"Why are you running, if you are not guilty?"
'What?'
'Whatever the hell that was.'
Ignoring the obviously confused silver streak, I actively pushed myself to run as fast as I could on the soot-fallen ground.
'Damn, I'm losing speed. Layers of ash and dust clearly don't carry much traction.'
I now reached the area of the small massacre, the entrance of the opposite narrow strip.
The scenery was grotesque, bruised and bloodied bodies lay to rest here, half buried by the crimson soaked ash. Some were still alive, groaning and desperately reaching out for help with no one to answer their calls.
All caused by their own people.
The monster hadn't even gotten a chance to rip them apart, as they were trampled by the bigger and stronger of their own kind, in an effort to escape the same monster.
They were just weak.
In the wrong spot at the wrong time, and they paid the price for it.
Everything comes with a price.
Even survival.
In the end, the smaller and more fragile people were run over for no reason, as the demon found its way in front of untrampled ones regardless, and they had no choice but to turn back. Likely sacrificing more of their own to try to escape.
It was a horrid sight that, ironically enough, shed light on the kind of life you're forced to live in Lone.
No one here is all that fortunate, and the protective services you get in middle and high class environments don't come around here all that often.
We don't provide enough value for them to care.
Our lives are expendable to them.
I'm about to be expended early if I don't figure out a way out of this situation.
Harrowing stalker-demon as well as an unidentified and seemingly hostile silver streak lady.
Perfect combo.