#burning wolf

“Hold still!” I demanded of the injured beast in front of me. His fur was hot to the touch, as it always was.

I studied the quill impaled into the side of my companion; a parting gift from one of the giant porcupine-like creatures known to frequenters of the Razor Hills as a spikehog. We were attacked by one as we traversed the rising and falling land covered with sharp grass. My friend successfully killed the animal, but not without injury. As the spikehog died, it shot off a barrage of spines, one of which found home in my companion’s left side.

I grabbed the long spike and pulled. My friend growled as pain stabbed through him. If this was back when we first met, I might have been afraid. But now, after two months of getting to know each other, I knew there was nothing to fear. He would never harm me.

“Come on, are you the dreaded Burning Wolf, or a mewling pup?” I teased as my friend began to whimper. He immediately toughened up at the provocation, although I still could hear the occasional stifled cry. It took all I had not to laugh.

With the quill removed, I got to work healing the wound. I held my hands an inch above the bloody hole and focused my thoughts. As I felt the hot steam rising from the boiling blood, my palms began to emit a green glow. Moments later, the wound was completely healed. It turns out being a demon does have a few benefits.

Unfortunately, my powers came at a cost. Using them was incredibly exhausting so I’d often need a long rest afterwards. It was getting late anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal this time.

“Time to lie down, Hairy. That’s enough walking for one day.” Hairy was my nickname for the Burning Wolf. Admittedly, coming up with names wasn’t something I was particularly good at, but he obviously couldn’t tell me his actual name, and I wasn’t going to constantly be saying “Burning Wolf” over and over. Oh well, it got the job done and he understood when I was speaking to him.

We sat together as we did every night; his arms cradling me, engulfing me in his warmth. It eliminated the need for a campfire, which was a dangerous thing in Demoniac. You never knew what the flames might alert at night. When Hairy and I were nice and snug, I began to sing. Nobody would ever expect this of the Burning Wolf, but he was fond of song. I first discovered this fact one night when we started traveling together. He was still wary of me and would often keep his distance. I didn’t blame him, for I did the same. In any case, my love of singing overcame any apprehension and I sang as I would have if I was all alone. To my surprise, Hairy came over to where I sat and listened quietly. When I tried to stop, he urged me on with a nudge. So I continued, long into the night. I think that was when our friendship really began to flourish.

I’d sing whatever song I could remember from my time in the living world. I’d need to adjust some things to account for the change of language into what was widely known as Demonish, but it always worked well enough. This night, I sang a song about a girl named Alice who had a penchant for mushrooms and chasing white rabbits.

The next morning, we continued our journey. Past the Razor Hills was Jonah’s Fall, one of the more densely populated, and relatively peaceful, areas of Demoniac. I had no clue who Jonah was, and I doubted if anyone currently living in the area named after him knew either. Hairy and I followed the road winding through the gentle slopes, a welcome change from the previous day’s scenery.

We passed numerous other travelers along the way, all of which eyed Hairy with fear and disgust. I couldn’t blame them. Up until recently, he was a vicious predator who killed without remorse. During our first days together, he’d go out and kill anyone unlucky enough to cross our path. I’d cry out and try to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. All of them were torn to shreds, or burned away into ash. Those days I wouldn’t say a word to him afterwards. I contemplated abandoning him, but I knew he could be changed. I eventually had enough of his slaughter and placed myself in front of his target. I pleaded with tears in my eyes for him to stop, not caring what might happen to me.

“Stop!” I cried out. “This isn’t right! There are enough monsters out there, you don’t need to be one as well!”

Hairy, burning with rage, growled at me. I swallowed hard but never broke eye contact. I could see the intelligence behind those eyes, desperately trying to overcome the beast; that same intelligence mixed with sorrow I saw when he approached me in the Weeping Swamp after saving me from those creeps. Intellect ended up winning. The Burning Wolf stood down, and the innocent man was spared. From that point on, Hairy never attacked another innocent person.

Nowadays, his rage is solely directed at those who wish us harm. Unfortunately, this being Demoniac, that category isn’t small, especially since I’m a woman. There are countless, disgusting brutes here who would do anything to get their hands on a woman. Most stay away now that I have the Burning Wolf watching over me, but once in a while, one is foolish or desperate enough to try something. Thankfully, I’ve been spared so far, but I’ve heard stories from others that often keep me up at night.

It wasn’t long before we reached our destination: a coastal city within Jonah’s Fall known as Calamity Harbor. The city was large, by Demoniac’s standards. It started as a small fishing village built on the ruins of some long forgotten civilization, but its location on the Blood Ocean and being nearby other populated villages allowed it to flourish. Traders and other travelers swarmed it, planting their roots. The crumbled, cream colored stone buildings were eventually rebuilt, reimagined by a new society. The muddy roads were paved and made easily traversable. It became an island of sanity in a sea of madness.

Hairy and I walked through the city gates. The entrance was flanked by two stone statues depicting a couple of half fish, half man looking creatures. Demons of all shapes and sizes walked the streets. Some were grotesque monsters, others took on a more human appearance. They all looked at Hairy with apprehension and disdain. Word may have gotten to Calamity Harbor that the Burning Wolf was a changed person, but that didn’t take away the memories.

We made it to the market where numerous traders had set up stalls. Normally, one would hear nothing but merchants hawking their wares at any passerby who might listen. Today was different, however. In the middle of the market, a crowd was gathered. Them, along with the salesmen sitting at their stalls, listened intently to the figure floating above the ground, screaming to the heavens.

“Listen, sinners, for your time of redemption is nigh!” he yelled. The crazed preacher’s demonic form was that of an angel. His white, feathered wings stood out prominently for all to see, stirring the air around them. “God has sentenced you all to an eternity in this hell we know as Demoniac! But it doesn’t have to be this way! Our God is a merciful one, and has sent me, one of his most devoted children, to this wretched place to set you on the right path! To give you another chance at paradise!”

The preacher only mentioned a singular god, which struck me as odd. When referring to whatever higher power might be out there, it was generally accepted in Demoniac that there were multiple gods, not just one. At least, that’s what the images found in ruins around the land led people to believe.

“Demoniac is your punishment for sins committed in life,” the preacher continued. “but it is also a trial. One to prove you have learned from your past mistakes. And if you succeed, all will be forgiven and you will be allowed to fly this prison!”

Murmurs permeated throughout the crowd. The preacher elaborated.

“Our gracious God spoke to me. Do you know what he said? He told me that the people of Demoniac needed guidance. That they let Chaos rule in favor of Order. He asked if I would sacrifice myself, give up my place in eternal paradise, to redeem the sinners! To show them the way of Order, where it’s not every sinner for himself, preying upon the weak! So follow me, brothers and sisters! Follow me and I shall show you the way to perpetual peace, in the name of God!”

Something about the crazed preacher’s words put me on edge. Hairy must have felt the same, for he began to emit a low growl, baring his fangs.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said. “We’re almost at Coalbreath’s.”

As Hairy and I walked past the preacher, I felt his unsettling, green eyes focused on me, his greasy, gray hair blowing in the wind.

Coalbreath’s Emporium stood on the harbor, making it easily accessible to any traders who fancied sea travel. Hairy and I stood outside of the cracked, cream colored building. Over the wooden door was a sign that said the store name, along with a crude drawing depicting a lizard clinging to a gem.

“Wait out here for a bit, I won’t be long,” I said to my companion, knowing his massive size forbid him from entering the store. Hairy obeyed and took a seat on the ground at the foot of the steps leading to the entrance.

I opened the front door, causing the chime hung above to jingle. A familiar, musty smell immediately greeted my nostrils. Coalbreath’s Emporium was a store that sold anything and everything. Wanted some herbs? All you needed to do was decide if you wanted something that’d cure or poison. Weapons? Do you want to cut someone into ribbons, or smash their bones to dust? Coalbreath sold food, clothing, tools; anything that could be traded he had.

I spotted the old lizard behind the front counter, carefully inspecting a gem of some kind. His long, slender tongue was licking his green lips absentmindedly. He never even noticed I entered.

“Got something good?” I inquired.

Coalbreath jumped, not expecting the sudden break in silence.

“Erin!” he exclaimed, “I was wondering when you’d be back. How’ve you been, little Nymph?”

Nymph was a nickname Coalbreath gave me due to my strange eyes, pointed ears, and healing abilities. I kinda liked it. It made me feel like I was more than simply Erin the Demon.

“I can’t complain,” I answered.

Coalbreath narrowed his eyes. “You still have that wolf following you around?”

I nodded. “Yep. He’s outside, as a matter of fact.”

“He, uh, giving you any problems?”

I shook my head. “Not at all! Quite the opposite, in fact. I don’t know how I got by without him.”

Coalbreath let out a sigh of relief and shrugged. “Well, as long as you’re safe. I worry about you, girl. It’s a tough world out there.” The lizard cleared off a spot on the counter. “Now, let’s see what you have for me.”

I turned my satchel upside down and let its contents spill out. He inspected each piece one by one; a plant here, a crystal there, and some sturdy animal parts for good measure.

“You’ve sure been getting around, haven’t you?” Coalbreath remarked. “This flower only blooms in the Weeping Swamp. And these mushrooms, you found these in a cave in Maiden’s Harp, didn’t you?”

I nodded in triumph, my hands on my hips. “They were a bit tricky. The screamer bats that feed on them don’t like to share. Hairy kept them away, though.”

“Hairy?”

“Oh, the Burning Wolf.”

“You gave him a name?”

I blushed. “The Burning Wolf felt too impersonal.”

Coalbreath smiled. His grin was a bit disturbing to me when I first met him, but I eventually got used to it after all I’ve seen in Demoniac. Now it was actually comforting to me.

“So what do you want to do with this stuff, little Nymph?” he asked. “You want coin or trade?”

“Coin, please.”

In Demoniac, while there wasn’t much in the way of government or law, a monetary system was at some point developed for simplicity’s sake. The currency was a simple, square metal coin with a hole cut out in the middle, known as a lunaire. It was named after the demon who first thought of the currency, Matthew the Lunar Knight. People either used lunaires, or simply traded whatever goods they had for what they needed.

After I made the transaction, I heard a commotion coming from outside. Screams and yells from multiple people were mixed with something much worse: growls. I ran as fast as I could outside.

At the foot of Coalbreath’s Emporium, a crowd of demons had gathered around Hairy. Their faces were twisted in hate. Many were gripping stones in their hands, claws, tentacles, or whatever other equivalent they had. I noticed there were already a number at Hairy’s feet.

“You killed Angela, you son of a bitch!” one man cried out. “She did nothing to you, you freakish monster!”

I tried to stop the man, but I wasn’t quick enough. The fool threw the stone he was holding, and my heart stopped. Hairy had had enough abuse for one day.

The rock collided with Hairy’s eye, causing him to look away for a moment. The mob cheered and bellowed, a cacophony that pierced my heart. Please, don’t, I said to myself. Hairy shook off the pain and glared at the crowd. He bared his fangs and roared, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I realized he was just trying to scare the mob off. If he wanted to hurt them, he would have already been aflame. Unfortunately, the crowd wasn’t backing down.

I jumped down the stone steps and stumbled my way between Hairy and the mob.

“The only monsters I see here,” I stammered, “are you people!” I walked towards the man who threw the rock. “You think you’re all so big, ganging up on someone like this! Let me tell you something: this isn’t the same Burning Wolf that you hate so much! He’s changed!”

The man laughed. “Changed? He still looks like a giant beast to me. Look at him! He’s just dying to attack us, but he knows he can’t take us all!”

I couldn’t help but guffaw at the absurdity. “Do you really think that? I know the Burning Wolf better than any of you. Hell, he hasn’t even ignited his fur! If he wanted you dead, you would already be a burnt pile on the ground. But do you know why you’re not? Because he’s learned to control himself.”

I calmed my voice a bit. “Look, I know the Burning Wolf has done terrible things in the past, but who among us hasn’t? At least he’s trying to change himself for the better. I’ve seen with my own eyes just how far he’s come. I know if he could, he would undo whatever harm he’s brought you.”

I quickly scanned the mob but, judging by the looks on their faces, they weren’t believing me. I looked back at Hairy. When I did, I saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. My heart twisted at the sight.

“What the hell’s going on out here?” Walking down the stairs from the Emporium was Coalbreath. “I don’t give a shit what you people do, as long as it’s not in front of my shop. This is a place of business, Gods above! You’re ruining my peaceful sales environment!”

The rock throwing man spoke up. “We’re doing a public service! This beast is a blight on our society!”

Coalbreath spat. “Oh, shut it, Blaine! You’re more full of shit than an asshole. Petty vengeance is all you’re after, you child. Don’t try to pretty it up with a facade of justice.”

The man curled his fist and swung at the lizard. “Why you little-”

Coalbreath dodged the blow and answered with one of his own. Unlike the antagonizer however, his punch found its mark. The man fell to the ground, clutching his head.

“Now as for the rest of you,” Coalbreath roared, “get the hell away from my shop or you’ll end up like poor Blaine here!”

The crowd dispersed in a flash, people heading every direction. I walked up to Coalbreath, who was shaking his hand in pain.

“Want me to patch that up for you?”

The old lizard shook his head. “Nah, this is nothing. Don’t trouble yourself.”

I hugged the owner of the Emporium. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. “Thank you, Coalbreath.”

“Don’t mention it, little Nymph. Just try to visit more often, ya hear?” He broke free of my grasp and walked towards Hairy. “And you, Hairy, make sure no one harms this girl, alright? If anyone does, you’ll need to answer to me.”

Hairy snorted in understanding. Coalbreath crossed his arms and smiled that same hideous yet comforting smile I’ve grown to love.

“You two’ll be fine,” Coalbreath said.