Chief Shankh sat in one corner with an old staff in his hand, his eyes cold as he watched the man grovelling before him. The man was a muscular being, with powerful arms and dark black eyes. He seemed amusing to the Chief, when he bowed before him, his head pressed into the floor. The Chief smiled wickedly at his stature.
This man was the leader of the Lang Shui tribe.
A damned wolf, who was using the demon energy in the Chief's own house to transform into a human. And he was here to beg for his life.
"Master," the bulky man said repeatedly, "You have to stop that demon! He has annihilated almost all of my tribe!"
It was the term 'demon' that pissed the Chief off.
Vrishankh was no demon. He was his son!
The Chief thrashed the man's head with his staff.
"Son," he said coldly, at which the man nodded rigorously and continued to kneel.
"Yes, your son," he begged, "Please ask him to spare the tribe, master!"
It was infuriating to the Chief, when he saw that his hit had not hurt the wolf. In fact, the injury didn't even show, thanks to his human form. Chief Shankh didn't remember when this tribe had gotten so weak.
Did they even deserve to be servants to those who belonged to the land of Dushkrat?
Nonsense!
The Chief stood up with the help of his staff, and began to circle the wolf slowly.
"I could ask him," he said aster a while of thought, "but it's no use, until he finds what he wants."
"Master!"
"Quiet!"
The old man prodded the staff onto the ground, and resumed circling the wolf again. It was only when he heard the slight sound of footsteps, that he stopped. Chief Shankh turned around, and looked at the small body of Vrishankh wrapped in tattered clothes. The demon was walking in listlessly into the room, until he sensed the presence of a wolf. His nostrils flared, and his eyes were bloodshot.
An evil grin spread on his face.
Without a second of thought, Vrishankh ran towards the crouching wolf and thundered, "Bik!"
Chief Shankh caught the boy in his arms, as the leader of the tribe heard the rebellious voice of the boy. He stepped back in alarm, while Chief Shankh tried to console the boy.
"It's not Bik, Vrishankh, calm down."
"Aaaah!" the demon screamed, trying to fight the old man's arms, but his body in this form was useless.
"Bik!" he yelled again. This time, the wolf opened its mouth to explain.
"M-Master, I am not B-Bik! I have –"
Before he could complete the sentence though, Vrishankh had lost his mind. Coldly, with eyes as bloodshot as the flames in hell, the demon thundered,
"Asrasya!"
A gust of wind wrapped around Chief Shankh and Vrishankh. Seconds later, the entire hut burst into flames. The screams of the man pierced through the air. It was right then that Vrishankh came back to his sense again.
He realized this wasn't Bik.
Chief Shankh let the boy go, as Vrishankh fell into thought, looking dazed.
Then very quietly, the old man murmured, "Jharah."
Sprinkled of water fell from the sky, until the fire went off.
There was no way the leader of this disgusting tribe would go like this.
The Chief wouldn't allow it.