Demonic Devourer's Development

"Who are you?" I blurted.

I looked closer at my saviour. The hood of his cloak was pulled down so much that I could only see his chin. It was sharp and pale. He wore cloth gloves and leather boots, and the rest of his clothes, while simple, were too nice for another street urchin. Or even for a village boy like me.

From his high-pitched voice, height and flat chest, I'd say he was a boy about ten or eleven summers old. To be saved by a kid younger than myself stung, but'¦ he did save me, so I added, "Whoever you are, thanks for saving me. It was really cool, what you did."

That was true. I had a knife, but I didn't even think to use it, while this boy acted like putting knives to people was absolutely normal.

He stashed it in a sheath on his thigh and raised his hood a little to look at me. The sight of his face made me flinch. The kid looked not just pale; he was white as a ghost. I could see veins under his huge eyes with dot-like pupils.

"Are you hungry?" he asked instead of answering.

I stood straighter. "I'm fine."

The boy didn't look convinced. The way he looked at me'¦ it was like I was six and he was twenty. What's worse, I really felt that way.

"Don't just refuse help out of pride when offered. Pride doesn't worth shit and won't fill your belly." He chided, and dropped his hood again. "I know a person who helps kids like you."

"Aren't you a kid yourself?" I rebuked, but my heart wasn't in it. This boy didn't seem like a child'¦ he looked like a grown-up cut in half.

He was even more grown-up than some real adults, because he didn't even respond to that and instead talked as if I didn't say anything. "Follow me if you want. Might be a mistake. You can't trust people in the place like this'¦ most of them only think about themselves."

The boy started to walk away, and for a moment, I hesitated to follow. I've heard about people who tricked kids, and adults, for their profit. Fishermen made traps for fish, hunters for game, and scoundrels for people. But this kid just saved me, and he was a kid too, didn't he? Kids stuck together against adults.

Plus, something in his words about "a place like this" echoed in my own thoughts.

I hurried to catch up with him. "My name is Hector. You still didn't tell me yours!"

"Gi."

"Gi? Just Gi? That's a strange name. And you are so pale, why?"

"I'm not from around here," was all that Gi said. Which only fuelled the curiosity burning inside me.

"Where are you from, then?"

"And where are YOU from?" he replied with his own question.

"A village. It's'¦ not really called anything, just our village. Can't you tell? Everyone's been telling me I'm a farm boy." I had clothes like a farm boy's, a talk like a farm boy's, a tan like a farm boy's'¦ City kids were different, that was right. Talked different and dressed different.

"I don't know shit about farm boys. How would I tell?"

"Really? Where are you from to not know? There are farm boys even in cities, and you said you aren't from around here. Where you can be if not from a farm or a city?"

"From underground. There are caves deep, deep below the mountains where I lived."

I faltered in my steps. "This can't be!"

Gi turned to give me a scathing look. "If you don't believe me, then why the fuck were you asking?"

"Hey, it's just hard to believe!" I protested. "How'd you live in caves at all? What'd you eat? How'd you see? Were you just doing everything blindly? Did you sleep like bats, upside-down?"

"Stop asking questions or I will leave you here."

I fell silent, but there was no way to curb my agitation now. The mystery enthralled me, and I bit my tongue to not ask how far it was until we reached the place. Not much, it turned out. In five more minutes, Gi went to a nicer street and came to a neat big house. It had only one floor, but was wide and had a small garden in the front. Instead of vegetables, it was filled with flowers, which could only mean that the person living inside was rich.

I grew wary. Rich people in cities weren't worse or better than poor, but they were sneakier about being bad. A poor person would kick you or rob you, but a rich person will snitch to guards on you and you will get thrown into a jail with rats and brigands for sleeping on the wrong street.

Ignoring my tension, Gi walked to knock on the door and waited until it was opened by an old man, who smiled at the boy.

"Gi! Did you have enough of exploring the streets today already?" The old man shifted his eyes to me. "Oh, did you find a new friend?"

Under the old man's eyes Gi shifted uneasily, not at all the wise guy he was with me. "He's no friend. He's just a moron who'd get himself maimed or killed if I wasn't around. You like helping those."

I grew more anxious under the old man's stare, which seemed to pierce under my skin and find even the smallest flaws. "I see, I see," the old man said and smiled at me with just as much friendliness as to Gi before, but also with sadness.. "You don't look entirely well, boy, and neither do your clothes. The weather can seem warm around summer, but the wind from the mountains can blow cold, and bring nasty rains at the most unexpected times'¦ Why won't you come in for a dinner, boy, and I look if I have any better clothes lying around that can suit you?"