• Rough Skinned



    "Don't stray too far from the forest Pen!" called the over-protective fairy mother. The ebony haired girl sighed heavily.

    "Don't worry Eryl! I won't!" she called back before sprinting out over the hilly terrain. Penelope always did what she was told not to do, but for some reason, always obeyed to stay inside the forest boundaries. Her foster mother thought it was a bad place to wander. Said things roamed there. Unpleasant things. Pen was always curious about these things.

    Pen was young, just turning the age of fifteen. She had ebony hair that stopped just below her ears with two longer strands of hair draping over her shoulders. She had bright blue eyes that shone like babbling creak beside the old fortune-teller's hut. Her skin was very pale, unlike the other children who lived there. Their skins were dark or emerald or sometimes even lavender. She wore desert garb. A long beige cloak that was torn up right above her feet where peeking out were a pair of leather shoes. Underneath was merely a sleeveless shirt and knee length shorts.

    Although Eryl told her not to, she really wanted to see the outside of the forest. It was a need. A longing that was pulling inside her. Without thinking she began to make her way towards the boundaries. She passed every tree, the running river, past the vines, and trudged through the brush that completely hid the boundaries.

    Within no time, she was there. She felt like she was on top of the world, even when there wasn't one below. She stood upon the mound of rocks, removing her lucky spear from her sling on her back. She clutched it tightly and closed her eyes. She felt the wind blowing gently across her face. She opened her eyes and looked over the dead plain. What was so dangerous about it?

    All the boundaries were was a desert full of dancing sand particles, a hot and bright sun, and a marvelous blue sky that Pen had never seen before. She smiled at it taking in it's simple beauty. She lowered herself down into a crevice of rocks and smiled, curling up and watching the few clouds that passed by. "There's nothing dangerous out here," she murmured.

    A few minutes had passed by and Pen was becoming bored. She had always hated silence. She looked down the stone mound. She had never touched sand before. She smirked and lowered herself down the mound carefully. She finally reached the bottom. She reached down and caressed the surface with her pale fingertips. It was very rough.

    "Run!" Pen shot up just as the hand scrapped her shoulder. She winced and swung her spear up at the creature, jumping back a few feet to get a good look at it. It was a demon. One of the old days. Eryl had shown her in a book once. These demons were called 'Imps.' The Fatal One used them to seek souls to drag to the Underearth.

    It was a disgusting Imp. It's face scrunched up and skin blood red. Four horns portrayed from it's bald skull and beady yellow eyes glared at her. She took a better look at it though. It's hand was pressed into it's side and it struggled to stand up properly. Imp's usually didn't portray humans actions very well.

    It charged at her again, trashing it's claws at Pen. The young human dodged quickly and struck the Imp's leg hard. It howled in pain. The ebony haired girl jumped back once again, avoiding it's fall. It writhed on the ground in pain for a moment before leaning against the rocks. It clutched it's side and kneeled on it's good knee. Pen gave it a curious glance.

    "R-run. P-please . . . h-h-hurry," it seemed to speak. Speak? According to that book Eryl had showed her, Imp's couldn't speak. Come to think of it, they were at least the size of a mushroom and always attacked in groups. This Imp was a good foot taller than Pen was and spoke Rithian perfectly. Maybe it was something else.

    "Are you an Imp?" she questioned, stepping closer to the bleeding creature. It looked up at her silently. She looked into it's eyes. The creature's eyes suddenly changed into a light emerald color. The claws sunk deeply into it's skull, blood beginning to seep past the fingers. It's entire body began to slither.

    "Get out of my head!" it screamed. Pen leapt onto the rocks, watching where she thought she wouldn't get damaged. She watched fearfully and curiously as the creature's body shook and deformed. It's skin began to fade into a pale white. The horns shrunk back into the skull as blood colored hair grew from it. Leather wraps of that of a servant of Yuroiku, the king, grew over it's body. As the scream of pure pain escaped it's lips, it collapsed to the ground just before the stone mound. Silence.

    Pen stared wide eyed at the creature. It looked . . . very human now. Slowly she descended back down the smooth stones to the creature's side. She knelt down beside it and looked at it's face. It was scrunched in pain, but it was still human. "Wow. Another human," Pen murmured. She had never met another human, like she was, in her entire life. She thought it was really . . . interesting.

    The human boy boy groaned deeply. Pen's eyes went wide as she realized he was hurt, partially because of her. She gently lifted his arm around her shoulders and wrapped her arm around his middle, trying to keep him up.
    "Let's get you back to the village. I kind of owe you."


    TO BE CONTINUED...