The Demon's Touch

Chapter 1

Narina

The fire crackles, sending sparks into the night. I watch the shadows dance on the craggy hill's face, shapes twisting and morphing like demons from a nightmare. Our breath mists in the cold air, mingling with the smoke. 

Mariel pokes at the fire with a stick, her face half-hidden by the hood of her cloak. 

"How much longer can we keep this up?" I ask.

"As long as we need to," she replies.

My fingers trace the frayed edges of my cloak. The fabric feels like a threadbare memory, one that refuses to fade.

"Can we really, though? I mean I don’t know how much longer I can do this."

"You always say that," she mutters, her eyes reflecting the flames.

"And I'm always right," I shoot back, though my voice lacks conviction.

She sighs and drops the stick. 

"Narina, I know it's hard, but you can't give up."

I stare at the glowing embers. I haven’t given up and I know I can’t now. But it's been a long two years since I last saw my sister. Two years since the dark elves razed our village. 

"I won't give up," I whisper.

Mariel's hand lands on my shoulder, gentle but firm. 

"That's the spirit."

My mind drifts off to thoughts that take me far away from here. I don’t know how long I’m lost in them until she withdraws her hand and pulls her cloak tighter around her. 

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?"

"Every day." My gaze drifts to the horizon where shadows blur into darkness.

"Do you think she's still out there?" she asks, her voice is soft, hesitant.

"I don’t know for sure.  But I have to believe she is." The words hang in the air between us, heavy with unspoken fears.

She pokes at the fire again, sending a flurry of sparks skyward. 

"Hope is good. Sometimes all you can do is hope."

"Hope is good. But I’ve hoped for two long years. Sometimes all there is to do is give up." 

My voice hardens, my resolve crystallizing in the cold night air.

Silence falls between us, broken only by the occasional pop of burning wood. The fire casts our fears into stark relief against the hill's jagged contours.

Finally, Mariel speaks again. "We'll find her."

"We have to." I pull my cloak tighter around me and glance at her. "For both our sakes."

She nods and offers a small smile. "Then let's rest while we can."

I settle back against the rough stone and close my eyes, images of my sister's face flickering behind my eyelids like shadows in the firelight.

I shift on the hard ground, trying to find a comfortable position. Sleep eludes me, replaced by thoughts of my sister. Her face swims before my closed eyes—so vivid, yet so distant.

"Where are you, sister?" The question echoes in my mind, a relentless refrain. "Did you forget me? Or do you sit up at nights thinking about me and wondering where I am like I have you for the last two years."

My hand drifts to my wrist where the token once hung. It's gone now, lost in the chaos of our escape. The weight of its absence presses on me like an invisible chain. It was our connection, our promise to find each other again.

Mariel stirs beside me, her soft breaths breaking the stillness. I envy her ability to sleep, to find some peace even in this desolate place.

Rumors of a demon portal have reached us. A whisper of hope amidst the despair. If the portal exists, it could lead me closer to finding her. Or it could be another dead end, another cruel trick of fate.

The fire's warmth is a poor substitute for the comfort I crave. I pull my cloak tighter around me and stare at the sky, where stars glimmer like scattered jewels. Somewhere out there, she might be looking at the same stars.

"Please don't forget me," I whisper into the night, knowing the wind will carry my words away.

I think back to our last moments together. Her eyes wide with fear, her voice trembling as she handed me the token. "Find me," she had said. "Promise you'll find me."

I had promised. And I will keep that promise, no matter how many obstacles stand in my way or how long it takes..

Mariel shifts again and mumbles something in her sleep. I glance at her and then back at the fire, its flames now reduced to glowing embers.

Hope and despair wage a silent battle within me. The rumors of the demon portal offer a glimmer of hope, but they also remind me of how much I've lost.

Suddenly, in the midst of my thoughts, something catches my eye.

"Did you see that?" I whisper, urgency threading my voice, hoping to wake Mariel.

"See what?" she grunts in a sleepy voice.

"That light. Over there." I point toward the forest, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

Mariel squints into the darkness for a few moments but then nods her head. 

"Maybe it’s just a trick of the fire..."

"No," I insist, rising to my feet. "It felt... different. Like magic."

Her gaze sharpens, and she rises beside me, determination creeping into her features. "You think it could be the portal?"

"Could be our chance. I have to go find ou" I say, glancing back at our small campfire, now reduced to glowing embers. The idea of another dead end gnaws at me. This might be all we have left.

Without waiting for her reply, I move toward the trees, feeling the chill of night creep beneath my skin. The forest looms ahead, dark and foreboding but promising escape and hope.

I hear her footsteps behind me as we tread softly, keeping to the shadows as we navigate through gnarled roots and dense underbrush. Every rustle seems amplified in the silence of night. 

Then we hear it—a low growl that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Orcs," Mariel whispers, fear threading her tone.

I nod, instincts kicking in as we duck behind a massive trunk. My heart pounds as I peek around to catch a glimpse of one sentry standing guard not far from where the light flickers intermittently through the trees.

The orc's hulking form is draped in tattered leather armor that barely contains his bulk. His beady eyes scan the area with predatory precision, and I feel like prey caught in his gaze. To my immense relief, his eyes keep on going past our concealed position.

He moves on, and we wait until our hearts no longer hammer in our chests before continuing on.

"I think it's just up ahead," I whisper.

We reach the clearing where I'd seen the strange flash of light. Nothing here now but moonlight and shadows.

"No, it has to be here, I saw it."

Orcs emerge from the shadows, weapons drawn. My stomach drops—it's a trap. We're quickly surrounded, our weapons knocked from our hands. I swing my fist, connecting with the nearest orc's jaw. The impact reverberates through my bones, but it’s futile. They outnumber us.

An orc grabs my arm, twisting it behind my back. I grit my teeth against the pain, struggling against his grip. Another one slaps iron shackles around my wrists, the cold metal biting into my skin.

Mariel cries out as they bind her too, fear evident in her wide eyes.

"We'll figure something out," she whispers, her voice trembling but determined. "We always do."

I nod, jaw tightening. I can’t let Mariel down. I won’t.

The orcs laugh, a guttural sound that makes my blood boil.

"Tomorrow you'll be at the mercy of the highest bidder," one sneers.

They drag us toward their camp, each step making the chains chafe against my wrists. My heart races, fear clawing at my throat. But I refuse to give up. My mind races for an escape plan. I'm not going to let them sell me like cattle or use me.

The orc camp comes into view—a cluster of ragged tents and makeshift fires casting eerie shadows. They shove us into a small enclosure, the ground cold and unforgiving beneath us.

I stare at the ceiling of our makeshift prison, body aching but spirit unbroken.

"I won’t be a slave," I vow silently to myself. "Not again."

Mariel sits beside me, her eyes reflecting the same resolve.

"We’ll get through this," she murmurs.

I take a deep breath, focusing on the faint glow of my wrist mark—a reminder of my pact with Dazirus and the power within me.

I won't let them break me.