Prologue, Part 2.

Planet Mortera

Demonic Capital City, Hellsinguard

9:37 p.m.


The Spix Spokes Inn wasn’t a really popular place. It was kind of small time. It looked, from the outside, like an old school town hall, with pointed steeples dotting the four corners of the Inn. In fact, it was called the Spix Spokes Inn and not the Spix Spokes Hotel because of this. The demon high council was known, privately, of course, that the Inn was used as a sort of secret meeting house for the highest caliber of demons. Today wasn’t any less of a big deal. Aiden knew that. For a long time throughout that taxi drive, Aiden had been leaning silently against the window of the car, personally commanding the taxi driver to slow down so he couldn’t get a migraine from driving so fast. That was the one flaw of demonic driving, and also the biggest benefit. Sure, you could get to your destinations much faster, but, if anyone was in the backseat trying to think, he’d be damned if his eyes wasn’t strained by looking outside of the window and trying to register objects passing you at around 300 miles per hour.

“Sure, but it would cost you an extra ten gald.” The taxi driver murmured. Gald was used in paper currency at this time, it hasn’t always been that way. Gald was first used back after the First Great War, when demomkind finally began to work as a unified people, and with that, they made an unified currency. It was flat paper, with glitters of gold embedded into the paper. The number at the top right corner told you how much it was of value, and if a demon wanted to look, well, the number matched the amount of sparkles of gold that was on the paper, earning the nickname ‘gald’. The name stuck. Before then, the name ‘gald’ would refer to the golden coins demons carried around. Hard currency before paper currency. That was just how it was.

“I don’t care.” Aiden murmured to the driver, waiving him off. Aiden was a weathly as hell Arch Demon, like he would car for an extra ten gald for a longer drive. That’s how Taximen were in Hellsinguard, you want to go faster? Extra ten gald. You want to go slower? Extra ten gald. Why? Fuel. And soaking up more hours of the Taximan’s shift. It was all business, nothing but business.

They finally got off of the freeway, and into the Middle Class District of Hellsinguard. The middle class was the epitome of the city, it was where every average man and woman lived. The raggedy ass poor lived in the Lower District, and the privileged wealthy lived in the Upper District. The Middle District was when the city never truly slept. Beggars, fights, and shootings roamed the Lower District, while all the people in the Upper District slept quietly in their beds. The Middle District was always active. It had the best places to keep the city from sleeping. Bars, Taverns, Arenas, something was always going on in the Middle District.

But tonight, it was different. The Middle District was quiet too. Aiden suspected that it was probably because today was maintenance night for the gigantic barrier that protected the city. Each demonic city had a gigantic generated barrier to protect them. Mortera was known to have adnominal creatures, of adnominal sizes, that was native to the planet. These creatures posed a serious threat to many who lived in these cities. Although stereotypical, not every single demon that lived in existence was a warrior, quite the contrary. There were carpenters, merchants, teachers, scientists, even writers… so if any of these monsters were to run into the city, it would cause massive chaos, and deaths. The council would not see to that. So they had a giant artificial barrier protect every single city from coast to coast. The barriers functioned by large generator plants, almost always near the center of every city, usually within viewing distance of the Capital Building. The barriers themselves ran off of cores called ‘apatheia’, a very rare mineral that can condense an infinite amount of energy that can be channeled in an infinite amount of channels, which meant that demonkind could project a barrier as large as they wanted out of these ‘apatheia’. That had been using them as long as they could remember. Apatheia’s were very expensive on the market, which is why once a week, every apatheia was routinely inspected, along with the wires and such, a huge and complicated network of projection, combining demonic magic formulas and technological prowess, in order to make sure they were always 100% efficient. Many people stayed inside, because there was a small chance that the barriers would shut down during maintenance. If that happened, some creatures could get into the city. The result was the Arch Demons to kill them off, but before they could get to them, there was already a risk that lives could be lost, and they had to let the barrier down as long as they were exterminating the creatures, making room for more creatures to creep into the borders. It wasn’t very pretty.

“Well then that makes it a good night, doesn’t it?” Markyos suddenly asked, from his own corner of the taxi as it pulled off the freeway and into the heart of the city itself. He smiled a little bit, being able to read Aiden’s thoughts through expression, knowing his friend so well, he hadn’t changed a bit…

Rows of streetlamps and small businesses echoed the quiet essence of night in the stone streets, as maintenance workers could be seen with their wings drawn, keeping themselves afloat thousands of stories in the air, working on the barriers, as they did every week.

Aiden smirked at his friend’s comment, his friendly emerald eyes gently sparkling a bit as he shifted them. He knew what Mark was talking about. This was indeed a good night to plan without many noticing, because there wasn’t any curious ears on the street. “But isn’t every night a good night?”

“Why do you say that?” Markyos asked back to his friend, eyeing Nero briefly. The hybrid had fallen asleep… against the car door. So Mark thought it best to just lower his voice in curdousy.

“Because, we all say good night when we go to bed, don’t we?” Aiden relayed, calling upon the thoughts of the distant past. “We still say that today don’t we, doesn’t everyone say good night before they go to bed… therefore, every night is a good night.”

Markyos nodded quietly with his hand placed against his temple, supporting his head. “Yes, my friend, every night is a good night in Hellsinguard.”

He meant what he said. Aiden hadn’t changed a bit, and neither did the city.

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Aiden stopped the taximan early, and gave him his extra ten gald as they all got out of the car. Markyos had to wake Nero, who shook his head vigorously to try to shake off his dizziness, and stumbled himself out of the car, stroking his hair and making sure that it wasn’t a mess.

As soon as they got out of the car, they realized that it was beginning to rain. Perhaps it was a bad decision to leave the cab early, but no one showed the expression of going back inside. When making a decision between cramped space and rain, they decided to choose rain. Markyos adjusted his wristwatch and pressed a button on it that caused the backlight to light up. It read 10:24 p.m.  That had about a hour’s walk to the Spix Spokes, which was already visible on the horizon. Markyos made sure that the street was completely empty. Normally, when the streets were empty, youths would be populace around the stone streets, play games, gamble, go on a play ‘adventure’, all sorts of things, when the cars weren’t driving around. Even with that proposition, it wasn’t fulfilled, for the entire street was empty, completely devoid of any individuals. If it hasn’t happened before, Markyos would of thought that something was wrong.

He nodded to his best friend. Aiden whipped out a satellite phone, which looked like a small tablet PC, and dialed in the private security number to the demon council. This bypassed all of those annoying secretaries and waiting periods, reserved only for Arch Demons, only if they had a reason.

Aiden spent a full hour talking to the council. It wasn’t because what he was asking was a very long thing to explain, but he had to legalize everything. Since this was a secret mission, he had to make sure that no one talked about it, and that no one was around (which was another problem, since maids got the biggest tips for cleaning the council chambers), and to make sure that no one would have the opportunity to mess things up for everyone. After he hung up the phone, they were already at the door to the Inn, a sort of old school, polished wood door, with a carving of an elegant tree etched in the wood, an arch-style double door that reflected the atmosphere of the entire place.  Aiden placed one hand on the lever, and opened the door.

“Hey buddy!” Was the soft exclamation that aroused from the room when he opened the door. It was the Inn’s owner. His name was Franklin Vice. He was a very friendly, warmhearted demon, a foxen to be exact. His fur was a lighter, more innocent tan then Aiden’s, he had a rustled head of blonde hair, that grew out long in a rather loose ponytail to around his mid-back. His eyes were of a deep sapphire, and he always knew how to pierce them right through you. His clothes were a bit loose on him, a classic white long sleeves shirt with a brown vest, and a schoolboy-like tie in the front, with loose brown slacks, and simple brown shoes, with simple front glasses covering his eyes. He had been the innkeeper ever since disease took him away from battle. He suffered from hemophilia, a rather unkind disease of blood refusing to clot. That meant that if he ever got cut, he would have to go to the hospital to stop it from bleeding. Ever since then, he had been the innkeeper of the Spix Spokes Inn, the name was made from a slang word a friend used to say about automobiles before he died.

“Hey Frankie.” Markyos commented with a short wave, sitting up onto the front stool while Aiden stretched and Nero ran up the stairs to the right of the Inn, to the second floor where the rooms were. Markyos let him go because he couldn’t get into any room without the key.

“Always calling me by that Barbie doll nickname?” Franklin responded, cleaning off the tables and going to the back wall where all of the alcoholic drinks were.

“Yeah pretty much.” Markyos swayed, flicking his hand on the polished dry wood table. Franklin shaked his head as he stared at the zillions of bottles.

”You guys want a drink?” Franklin said with a shrug.

“Nah, we can’t, really…  we are on business tonight.” Aiden said in a professional manner, laying his hand down upon where his saber was shackled to his belt.

“Ah c’mon, Aiden, not just one?” Franklin rose his eyebrow and shook his finger at him. He looked very charming when he did that. Every lady from around the block knew that. The only reason why he wasn’t a womanizer was because of his disease.

“Well, alright, one bloodshot.” Aiden said, Markyos raising his hand for one too. A bloodshot was the most famous of demonic one hit studs. It was a blend of hard vodka, several spices and peppers from certain herbs, and blood from a summoned creature from a fire mage. The result was a very spicy drink that could wake anyone up. Franklin mixed the ingredients together and gave them both a small glass. They both toasted and took a drink at the same time, immediately both of them laid their heads against the table and tried to stomach the rush. It was a strong drink.

“That hits the spot…” Markyos commented before Aiden sat up from his chair and threw a couple of coins in Franklin’s direction. He then glanced at Franklin with a certain glance that meant business now, and Franklin seemed to already know what he was talking about. He took a secondary key from the latch next to him and tossed it at Aiden. “He’s in room 202.”

“Thank you Frankie.” Markyos said with a suggestive wink, which made Franklin back up a little up. “Woah man, heh, just get your stuff done a’ight?”

“Sure.” He said in a casual way, and followed Aiden upstairs.

When they reached room 202, they could already sense an enormous source of power coming from the other side. Upon opening the door… he was there. He was half a head taller then Markyos… an ebon echidna, with a massive broad, an even more dominant look then Sparda, in a worn black trench coat, with chains connected and running all around, attached to small blades and tribal emblems that hung around the coat. His pants were black, and intricately patterned with red dragons on both sides, and he had large, long silver boots, with black studs and delicate golden threads etching them all the way. He had blue stripes running down his dreadlocks, and rough blue bangs that sprung up from his forehead, most of them treading down towards his demonic, aqua blue eyes, but some were purposely gelled to stand up as if they were spiked, causing his appearance to look not only more intimidating, but more welcoming to the new generation.

“Armistes… wow, the council did not hold back on us this time… “ Aiden remarked, his voice trailing off as the council member rose up form his sitting position in the chair located in the hotel room. Armistes was a veteran of the First Great War, a massive, yet rather slim demon, his actions in his lifetime had long deserved him the position of Council Activist. The Activist was the member of the council that was directly associated with the Arch Demons, and any missions that they performed. He was the boss of the Arch Demons, their leader. He called all the shots. Since the Council had brought Armistes himself, Aiden, and Markyos knew that the council was not playing around when it came to closing conspiracies.

Nero stopped running out of boredom and peered into the room where Armistes was, clearing his bangs and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Woah… “

“Gentlemen… “ Armistes began, his voice deep, charming, yet slender, and full of energy. His lips curled into a sly smile as he brought both of his palms up, using magic to materialize a strategic table in front of him, as Franklin on the bottom door hung a ‘Closed’ sign onto the front door of the Inn.

“Let’s discuss the downfall of Zinc Corporation… shall we?”

Markyos and Aiden looked at each other with devilish smirks. It was back to the drawing board, all over again.

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END OF PART 2

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