My Name is Aryll, Ch.1

Chapter 1: The Demon with a Heart

My name is Aryll.  Family name?  Titles?  I've been called lots of things.  I didn't even used to have this name but that's a long story.  Though of course you want to hear it don't you?  That's why you're here isn't it?  You want to know how someone like me ended up doing what I do now?  Please understand, there's a lot of things in my past I really don't like talking about.  Not just painful memories, things I still live in shame of and probably always will.  I know, it's a story that needs to be told and I guess getting it out would help.  Well, it's such a long story, I'm not quite sure where to start.  I suppose the best place would be what I would call a typical day.

It was here, in Shantraz City.  The sun was just rising and everyone was getting ready to begin their daily routines.  Well, at least most were.  In one part of town, a shrill scream shattered the peace.

It was in an alley where a crowd had gathered, all with fearful and horrified looks on their faces.  It was a sight so horrid that they didn't even take notice of a robed figure behind them who seemed to rise above their heads a few inches to get a better look.  The sight in the alley was a woman lying dead in a pool of blood.  At first glance, one would think she had been torn apart by a starving animal.  Of course, the cuts didn't match such an attack as anyone experienced in such things could tell you.  No, this was the work of a person, making the act all the more unspeakable.  The worst of all, a little boy whom everyone could only assume was her son knelt at her side weeping and calling out to her, as though hoping she would just get back up and take him home.

"Please, make way.  This is the scene of a crime."

That's when the guards had come to investigate the commotion.  They had dealt with the low lifes in this town before but this new threat was something else though this wasn't the first.  Oh no, this was the work of a serial killer whom the authorities had been trying to catch for several days now.  Always the same pattern, victims viciously cut down in the streets.  No survivors to tell the tale.

At the sight of the guards, the robed figure slipped off to the side to avoid drawing attention but still watched from afar.  That's when the investigator and his young assistant came to look over the scene.  The investigator was a slighty aging man with grayed hair and a small mustache.  His assistant was a younger looking fellow with short blond hair.  You could easily tell he was new to the business by the shocked look on his face when he came upon the scene while the other man had obviously seen many such murders in his time as he simply took the boy's hand and handed him off to the guard who led him away so that he wouldn't have to be troubled by the sight again.

"Is it The Ravager again?" the younger man asked.

"Looks like it," replied the older man.

That's when he turned to see the crowd muttering among themselves.

"All right, show's over folks, best move along now.  But please, remember to lock your doors at night and don't go out alone for your own safety."

Having satisfied itself with what it had seen, the shadowy figure also moved on with the crowd.

What's that?  Was the robed figure the killer?  Please, I'll get to that.  Don't try and guess the story now.  Trust me, you'll understand.

So yes, the mysterious killer known as The Ravager had been terrorizing the city, this victim being the third.  The city guards had been placed on full alert in hopes of apprehending this individual and the investigators had been working round to clock to find possible suspects but serial killers are always the hardest to find for they often choose their victims at random and are careful to never leave survivors.  Alas, the boy had only found his mother dead with no sign of her killer, though perhaps he's better off that way.

However, that night would be the last victim of the ravager.  Few know what happened after that.  Many thought the killer had moved on or went into hiding when the threat of being caught became too great.  Neither of those are true though.  You see, that night, a young scholar had run out of ink while writing out a theory he was working on and decided to go out to the storeroom and get some himself rather than just wait until morning.  His mind wouldn't allow him to sleep until it was satisfied his work was done.  He walked along the dark streets pondering to himself.  So lost in thought that he didn't take note of the skulking form that peered out from around a corner at him.  That is, until it emerged from the alley right in front of him.

"Augh!" he cried in surprise, "W-who are you?  What do you want?"

"Heh heh heh," the figure cackled.  She was a woman in crude black hides all stained with blood.  Her brown hair was tied back in a pony tail and she bore a pair of cruel dark steel axes with serrated blades, obviously intended to cause painful, grievous wounds.

"Please!  Don't hurt me!  Take the money!" he pleaded while throwing down his pouch.

"Heh heh," the woman laughed again, "I don't want your money, just the sound of you screaming!"

The young man yelled as he fled from her but he was a brain, not an athlete.  Only a block or so later, he began panting hard until he lost his focus and tripped.  The woman stood over him, her blood thirsty eyes glinting in the moonlight as she raised her axe to strike.  As she brought it down, rather than the sound of torn flesh, the sound of a metal clang was heard.  The young man opened his eyes to see a robed figure, a sword extended from the sleeve blocking the axe.

"Run!" the figure said, "Get out of here!"

Not wasting a word, the young man rolled away, got up and fled as fast as he could.  The robed figure looked satisfied before turning back to The Ravager who lept back to size up her new opponent.

"Grr!  I don't know who you are but you just made a big mistake!" she snarled at the stranger.

"My only mistake was not tracking you down sooner," the stranger replied as a second sword extended from her other sleeve.

"You got a lot of guts!" she said somewhat impressed, "Let's see what they look like!"

The Ravager dashed at the stranger, eyes aglow with rage.  The stranger simply stood motionless as she met her axes with her swords, parrying every blow with barely any effort before shoving her back as she tried to drive both axes into her head.  The Ravager re-oriented herself as she looked at her opponent with surprise.

"You're no amateur..." she said.

"Yours is focused though unrefined, self taught I take it?" the stranger said.

The Ravager seemed offended yet somewhat shaken, as though it were a truth she didn't want to admit.  Before she could make another attack, voices rang out from the road.

"What's going on over there?!"

It was the city guards, obviously alerted to the sound of fighting.  The robed figure looked back for a moment only to turn back to find The Ravager slipping down a nearby sewage entrance.  Obviously her planned getaway from her crimes.  The guards arrived at the scene to find no one in sight.

"You swear you saw her?" one of them said to the young scholar.

"Yes, she was going to kill me but someone stopped her.  I didn't get a good look though."

That would be the last anyone in the city saw or heard of The Ravager.  As to her fate, well...

Satisfied the guards hadn't seen her, she put her axes on the floor and leant against the wall to catch her breath.

"Rrgh!  I don't believe it!" she said angrily, "A perfectly good kill ruined.  If I ever get my hands on that meddler, I swear I'll..."

"You'll do what?" came a familiar voice.

The robed stranger dropped down from above as The Ravager quickly grasped her axes.

"You!" she growled, "You were holding back against me!  You toying with me?"

"No," the figure responded, "I just don't want to hurt you."

"What?!" she said with surprise and outrage, "Enough games!  You'll be taking that man's place!"

She lept at the figure, axes overhead to bring down on her as he attack was met with the figure's own swords.

"Not this time!" The Ravager said as she pressed on the hilt with her middle finger, causing a metal spike to fire from the end, aimed right for the stranger's neck.  To her complete shock, a third hand quickly extended from inside the cloak and caught the projectile.  The Ravager stared like she'd seen a ghost when another hand reached out and punched her square in the chest, knocking her to the ground.  She got back up staring fearfully at the figure.

"Wh...who are you?  What are you?" she demanded.

"Well, if you insist..." the figure said looking off to the side before slowly pulling back the cloak's hood revealing her face.  She was a young woman with long black hair, kept neatly groomed with a white flower in it.  Her sparkling blue eyes bore a saddened expression to them and her face was fair in colour, she looked human but had a somewhat otherworldly feel to her.  That feel was more pronounced as she threw off the rest of the robe and advanced into the faint light overhead.  From the waist up, she looked like an attractive human wearing a simple red top for modesty.  At least she would if she didn't bear three pairs of arms.  From the waist down, one could see why she moved with nary the sound of footsteps.  She had no legs, only a long, red, serpentine tail trailed behind her.  The end waving in the air as though anxious.

"My name is Aryll," she said, "As for what I am...that answer isn't as simple."

Yes, you've probably figured it out already but that robed figure was indeed me.

"You're...you're a demon?" The Ravager said, "Oh, I get it!  You want the meat in this town for yourself and don't want me on your turf.  Is that it?"

"I suppose that would be the case for any normal demon, but I'm hardly normal.  However you are correct that I want your killings to stop here and now!" I said as he looked down upon her.

"I...I don't care what you are!  I'm not going down without a fight!" she said as she attacked again.  I continued to parry her blows as I watched in sadness at her rage.

"So, you've lost your love for life so much that you care not even for your own?  Poor creature."

"What?" she said in surprise at my pity, "What kind of trick is this?  Why aren't you trying to kill me?"

"I've done enough of that already," I replied.

"Then what do you want?" she said impatiently.

"All I want is you," I replied.

All she did was snarl at me as she charged again.  Seeing there was no alternative, I stood with my swords crossed as she approached.  With two swift parries to either side, I sent both axes flying into either wall as my other hands shoved her backwards with their palms into the wall with such force it left her winded.  She looked up fearfully at me as my upper arms passed the swords downwards and reached back to bring a large, shadowy scythe into being from seemingly nowhere.

"You plan to take my soul don't you?  Fine, I doubt even the rats down here would mourn me," she said, resigned to her fate.

"Is that to say you have no regrets?" I asked.

"Plenty of those, but what do you care?" she said.

"You have no idea mortal.  But don't worry, I'm not here to kill you.  If I did, I'm no better than you."

"What?  What kind of demon are you?  Is this some kind of trick?"

"Hush," I said, "This won't hurt at all."

She couldn't even move as I held the scythe in front of me and began to spin it counter clock wise.  She could only stare as it flared up with a pale blue light that washed over her.  Just then, she looked down to feel her clothes beginning to loosen.

"Wha...what are you?"  she said as she noticed everything seeming to become bigger to her.

"It's simple.  Once, a long time ago, one of your kind gave me one of the greatest gifts of all: A second chance.  I'm here to extend that same kindness to your kind," I said softly as she continued to grow smaller, her womanly figure fading from existance as her strange moans became higher and higher pitched.  With one last wave, she vanished into the pile of her clothes as I slithered over to find only a lone baby cooing among the pile.  I picked her up with my upper arms as my middle arms gestured towards her two axes.  They flew from the wall into my hands on command as stowed them behind me, causing them to vanish like a magician.  I wrapped up my new charge as I re-donned my cloak and slithered off.

With that, Shantraz City was never again troubled by the ravager.  And one tortured soul finally had a chance at peace.  Some could call that alone an incredible story.  To me, this was only my life as usual.  Of course, this isn't where it all began.  Not at all.  I only wanted to tell you this so you're clear on where I stand now.  I am a marilith, a demon who now lives to not only defend not only the innocent but to help those who have fallen into the depths of depravity.  But if you think me a saint right now, hold your judgement.  My origins were no fairy tale.  I believe now's a good time to tell you about another name I once bore: Nekona the Scourge