Black Heart The demon's Child

Chapter 2: Flames of the Past

The chill light of dawn seeped through the fissures in the stonewalls of the ruin, casting long, narrow shadows along its floor.

Aria stirred, her muscles cramping as a result of last night. She had hardly slept and only felt fear for her son. He lay snuggled up against her chest, still silent and still, his small body a source of warmth.

The black flames that had licked across his hair now were nearly invisible, although their heat still reached out to her.

She sat up painfully, wincing at the shooting pain into her body. It seemed childbirth had taken more from her than she had estimated, but there was no time for rest, so she told herself. They couldn't stay in this place; villagers would never give up searching for them.

But where to go? The world was big and not pleasant, moreover, to a woman and a child-demon. It was awful for Aria even to think that she had to travel on her own. What choice did she have? He needed only his father's protection, and she didn't have the slightest idea where he was.

A soft cooing sound broke her thoughts.

Black Heart, as she had come to call him, opened his eyes and looked up at her with an unnerving intensity-something ancient lay in those dark orbs, so beyond his infant form. A shiver ran down her spine as Aria felt his gaze.

She had heard tales about how demon-born children were sometimes born with great powers, but to so realistically see such a sight in her own son was astonishing and terrifying at the same time.

"You're so quiet," she whispered, brushing her fingers through his soft, flame-touched hair. "Too quiet for a child."

His small fist rose up, and clutched her fingers with surprising strength. For a moment, she was amazed just how fragile and tiny he was, despite the power she knew was sleeping in him.

Aria let out a sigh and stood her ground wobbly, her legs stiff beneath her weight. She bundled Black Heart in her arms, enwrapping him tight against the chill of the morning air. She needed a plan. She couldn't continue to trudge aimlessly through the wilderness, hoping to avoid the villagers forever. If they catch her, they would kill them both-no questions asked.

Her mind was racing as she stepped out of the ruins, tenderness in each step. The forest was still wraithlike with mist, and she had to find help. Someone still versed in ancient lore, someone to whom the powers her son had would be understood.

The only place which came to her mind was the city of Eirenfell, a place of secrecy, rumoured to house those who dallied with magic.

But Eirenfell was far away, and the journey perilous. Aria bit her teeth. She had no other choice. She would take her son there, at whatever risk. There was but one way.

She struggled through thick underbrush, her mind falling back to Black Heart's father. He had come to her in the night-a dark figure cloaked in shadow. She hadn't known at first what he was, only that he wasn't like the others. Stronger-and more dangerous-but he was kind to her too. A rare thing, this, in a world that feared power.

She had been in love with him before she knew his real nature. By the time she realized that he was a demon, it was already too late. She was already with child, and he was gone. His words, promising her a future together, were as fleeting as the wind.

Now, all that remained of that brief, passionate love was the child in her arms, a child who bore the mark of his father's legacy. Aria shook her head. There was no use in mulling over the past. Her focus now had to be on survival.

The footsteps fell quietly on the thick layer of leaves that covered the ground as she trudged forward.

Every little rustle in the distance set her on edge. She couldn't shake that feeling-that they were being watched, hunted even.

Suddenly, a twig snapped beside her. Aria froze as her heart pounded in her chest. Her head whipped around, her eyes scanning the trees for any kind of movement.

Another snap. Closer this time.

She turned, her breath catching in her throat. There, emerging from the shadows, was a figure draped in dark robes.

His face was obscured by a hood, yet there was no mistaking the aura of power that radiated from him-the kind of power that sent shivers down her spine, a power she recognized all too well.

Aria's grasp closed tighter on Black Heart. "Who are you?" she asked firmly, an edge in her voice, and shook all the while.

He stepped closer, his movements languid and deliberate. It was then that he finally spoke; his voice deep and almost inhuman, "You should not have brought him here."

Her blood ran cold. Whoever this was, he knew. He knew about Black Heart.

"I had no choice," Aria said; her voice was little more than a whisper. "They are hunting us."

The figure let out a low, mirthless chuckle. "Of course they are. A demon child born to a mortal? It is a threat to everything they hold dear. And yet, you think you can protect him?"

Aria swallowed hard as she nodded. "I'll do whatever it takes."

The figure stayed still for a moment longer, his hooded eyes stuck on the bundle in her arms. "He doesn't belong to this world, Aria. You cannot change that.

Her heart clenched as she returned to her musings, quickening, 'How does this stranger know my name; what does he mean, Black Heart does not belong to this world?

"He is my son," she said fiercely, stepping backward. "I will keep him safe."

He said nothing for a long time, then, without warning, he extended his hand. Aria flinched, but he did not touch her, instead pointed toward Black Heart, whose dancing flames seemed to flutter as if sensing the presence of this stranger.

He is marked by his father's power," the stranger said in a quiet tone. "And that power will only continue to grow. The real question is what he will do with it.

Aria's mind reeled. Who was this man? How did he know so much about her son? Her gaze drifted to the dark flames licking gently around Black Heart's hair. She had no answer to the stranger's question, and that terrified her.

Aria was firmer this time. "I don't need your help," she said. "We will find our own way."

The figure chuckled again, this time almost with pity. "You will try," he said. "But like all others when trying to defy fate, you will fail. And before word could even form on Aria's lips, the figure had already stepped back and melted into the darkness, like he had never been there in the first place.

The mist swallowed him, leaving behind, in the silence, the sound of Aria's labored breathing. She stood there a moment, shaken, before forcing herself to move. She had to keep going. Whoever that man was, he'd been right about one thing: Black Heart's power would grow.

And when it did, the world would come for him. With each step deeper into the woods, the weight of her journey bore heavier upon her.

The wind had picked up, whispering through the trees-like a thousand voices speaking in unison.

With every step, she felt eyes watching them-something far older, far more dangerous.

Aria pressed her lips to Black Heart's forehead; the cool flames caressed her skin.

"I'll keep you safe," she whispered again, more for her own benefit than his. "No matter what it takes."