History of a kingdom...Part Three
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-Hawk, deamon captive, chronicler of all deamon events up to the present....
Hawk looked up at the cieling, his thoughts now clouded and unsure of what to write next. The man's eyes closed, his breathing slowed down, his hand moving in circles over the page, the pen not quite touching the paper.
A winged deamon flew down from the rafters above Hawk, landing beside the man- who didn't seem to notice. The deamon, roughly the same size as Hawk, raised both of his clawed hands, grabbing Hawk's head and squeezing until blood showed. Hawk screeched in pain, and as his hands went up to try to shake the deamon away, he fell back, a loud crack sounded out as the wood below him splintered. The deamon broke away from Hawk, its hands sealing the wounds as it moved back.
"You've stopped working- my precious slave writer- and with that comes great punishment," said the deamon to Hawk, his face obviously displeased. Hawk stared back, his eyes going wide. Punishment was not a good thing, and it always created great pain. Almost deathlike pain.
"I... I stopped an attacker today... doesn't... doesn't that count for... any...thing?..." stammered Hawk, his eyes shaking in fear. The deamon looked at him for a while, uncetain of what to say. Pondering for a bit, the deamon floated into the air, his hands moving around as if organising an imaginary collection of photos.
"Hmm... if what you say is true... I shall spare you the true punishment, and give you one far less... painful..." Hawk looked at his master, the fear slowly fading from his face.
"Yes... anything is better... than the true punishment..." Hawk said, practically begging for anything else. The deamon eyed him coldly, than raised a hand out towards Hawk, a small eyeball like creature forming in his hand.
"As I'm sure you know, this is an Attalna, a deamon with its eye set on hunting to kill. Follow this deamon to a place called the Eterna Peninsula. There you will need to seek out a quite annoying deamon, one with his eyes set out to finish the hunters off forever. Your mission is to kill him." The deamon turned around and began heading towards the doorway at the end of the small room.
Hawk's eyes followed him all the way to the door. He had survived one more day, but his journey would now lead him into danger- fighting any deamon with only human abilities was near impossible. But as Hawk watched the white coloured deamon leave, he was only glad that the true punishment had not been given. Because fighting the white coloured deamon's dog was a deathmatch...
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... The Attalna floated away... The dog turned its back... The white coloured deamon dissapeared into the darkness... The deamon lying on the floor dissapeared, still very much alive... The hunt leader growled in hatred...
