Rage, My Faithful Companion

D'veen Prelude One

Bradley Ramsey

Apr 03, 2025

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Sarai Rashan gingerly carried two ceramic mugs of Cloudberry tea into Finton Merrybrook's kitchen.

She set them down, careful not to spill a drop of the liquid. Cloudberry is powerful and sweet, but its juice stains everything it touches.

She knew Finton would have thrown a fit if she spilled any on his kitchen table.

“Tea’s ready. Careful, it’s hot,” Sarai said, sitting down across from him.

Finton riffled through some parchment in his hands before slamming down an intricate portrait of a Tallion man with a broken horn and shoulder-length hair.

The portrait was so detailed that it showed the intricate runes drawn across the skin on his face, which all Tallion people were born with, but no two markings were the same.

They were signs of their past as creations of the Magiri—scars they were born with from the magic in their blood.

“Tallion. Haven’t seen one of those in a long time,” Sarai said, picking up her tea.

Finton nodded before slamming down a second portrait in dramatic fashion. It was a young Tallion girl. The portrait had flames drawn around her head like some sort of halo.

“What’s with the fire in this one?” Sarai asked.

Finton blew on his tea to cool it off before taking a small sip. “Ah, by the Titans, that’s still terribly hot!”

“I told you!”

Finton sighed and set down the cup. He picked up the second portrait of the young Tallion girl.

“She carries with her the anger of an entire race. She’s cursed with a rage demon,” Finton said.

Sarai raised an eyebrow. “You want that kind of liability in your little order? She could turn anytime, and I don’t think we are equipped to deal with a rage demon.”

Finton shrugged. “I need her companion. His name is Yeldarb Ramshed. He won’t leave her behind, so they’re a package deal.”

Sarai looked at the Tallion man again. Even in his portrait, she could tell he had kind eyes. He was foolish to travel with such a liability, but Sarai respected his dedication to her.

“What is she to him? A daughter? A sister, perhaps? She’s too young to be his lover,” Sarai said, still staring at Yeldarb’s portrait.

“They’re not related by blood. I don’t know how they met, but I know that he has traveled with her for some time. For his own reasons, he has vowed to help with the burden she carries. A noble pursuit, even if it’s utterly foolish.”

Sarai chuckled. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Finton laughed. “Dead and buried, darling, but good men still live in D’veen if you know where to look.

“So, what’s next then? Have you made contact?” Sarai asked.

Finton nodded. “I gave him the contract after I observed him and his companion Isara from a distance. I had to ensure they were everything I needed for the Order.”

Sarai leaned forward, wrapping her hands around the steaming mug of tea in front of her.

“Well? What are you waiting for? You’re the greatest storyteller in all of D’veen! Tell me what you saw.”

Finton nodded and took another small sip from his tea. “Damn. Still too hot. Very well, let us start from the beginning.”

Yeldarb awoke to the sounds of chaos and destruction. Screams filled his ears as he threw himself out of his bedroll and onto the ground.

He hastily put on his tunic, trousers, and belt, stopping to check that his wand and dagger were both secure in their holsters.

"Isara, where are you?" he asked, shouting through the chaos.

The other bedroll in the tent was empty. Yeldarb's heart sank as he put the pieces together in his mind.

He opened the tent entrance and stepped out into the night. The scent of sulfur, ash, and burning flesh assaulted his senses.

In the distance, he saw a towering beast with a body made of fire and brimstone. Its horned head roared as liquid fire poured from its mouth, scorching the landscape below.

Yeldarb recognized the gargantuan beast. It was a demon born of rage, fueled by resentment and vengeance. At the center of it, surrounded by flames, was Isara.

She was the well from which all that personified anger poured like oil onto the flames surrounding her.

Yeldarb felt a mixture of sadness and disappointment as he sprinted toward the destruction. He thought he had helped her get it under control, and he thought they would be able to escape and start fresh.

He thought many things before that night, but all of them were wrong.

"Isara, listen to me!" Yeldarb shouted.

All around him, his fellow Tallion refugees scattered in fear. The glowing runes upon their skin made them look like fireflies fleeing into the night.

The rage demon's flaming eyes scanned the ground below. It let loose another torrent of flames, turning several tents and their occupants to ash in the blink of an eye.

Those who passed within range of its feet would soon find themselves crushed beneath its unrelenting heel. Yeldarb had to think fast.

He reached down and plucked the wand from one of the holsters on his waist. Runes, from a language lost to time, glowed across the skin all over his body. Beneath them, an even older magic flowed beside the blood in his veins.

His eyes burned a brilliant shade of indigo as Yeldarb pointed his wand at one of the rage demon's feet.

"Blizara insola Shakar!"

Shards of ice formed in the air and shot into the demon's left foot. As the shards collided, ice quickly spread across the entire surface, snuffing out the fires on its skin in a cloud of smoke.

The rage demon roared as it looked down and saw its foot frozen to the ground. Yeldarb threw his arms down and levitated into the air.

His glowing indigo eyes met the fiery orbs in the demon’s skull. Yeldarb looked down and saw Isara nestled in the beast's flaming womb.

"It's now or never!" He shouted.

Yeldarb pointed the wand at the rage demon's chest and fired another barrage of ice magic. The ice formed a hard shell over the place where Isara was trapped.

Steam poured from the edges as it immediately began to melt. Yeldarb holstered his wand and threw his hands forward.

He shot like an arrow, straight and true, into the icy target on the demon's chest. The cold crystals shattered, creating an opening for his daring rescue.

Yeldarb wrapped his arms around Isara's waist and shut his eyes as he exploded out of the demon's back.

The runes on his body flickered and went dark as he crashed onto the ground alongside Isara. He rolled over onto his back and watched as the rage demon's body collapsed into a tiny ball of embers before finally crumbling into ashes.

Yeldarb laid his head against the cool ground and let out a long sigh of relief.

"That never gets any easier," he said.

Isara coughed beside him. Yeldarb rolled over as her eyes fluttered open. The runes on her body, which were completely unique to her, flickered as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Fuck, don't tell me I turned again," Isara said.

Yeldarb sighed. "You turned again."

Isara sat up. Her runes went dark. She rubbed her head and ran a finger over one of her horns.

"I think I chipped a horn."

"I think you should be more concerned about the damage you did. We need to get out of here before they regroup and come back with torches and pitchforks," Yeldarb said, extending his hand.

Isara took it, and he pulled her up. She avoided Yeldarb's gaze as she looked sheepishly at the destruction around her.

"I'm sorry, Yeldarb. I really thought I had it under control."

Yeldarb hugged her as she fought back tears.

"It's okay, we'll figure something out. Let's get out of here."

The two gathered their things and left the camp quickly. Any survivors had already fled, and there was no time to bury the dead.

Word of the rage demon and its Tallion companions spread quickly in the coming days. The survivors of Isara’s fiery companion sought revenge. They stayed on the move, but soon, not even the Tallion, their own people, would give them quarter.

They could run all they wanted, but no matter how far they trekked across D’veen, their problems would follow close behind.

Yeldarb loved Isara like a sister, but he was running out of options.

Several weeks later, Yeldarb stepped out of a tavern in the kingdom of Winter’s Peak. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head to remain anonymous.

Tallion people were rare in human kingdoms, and at that point, everyone had heard about the one-horned man traveling with a girl and a rage demon.

Yeldarb clutched the fresh bread and fruit close to his chest. He turned and moved with purpose. Within a few steps, he collided with another person in the darkness of the night. Yeldarb cursed under his breath as he dropped the food onto the muddy ground.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault,” Yeldarb said, crouching down to pick everything up.

“Please, no, the fault is my own. My goodness, look, your dinner has been ruined!”

“It’s fine; I can wash everything off,” Yeldarb said, trying to hide his face.

“Hang on a moment. Are you a Tallion?”

Yeldarb’s heart dropped into the depths of his chest. He looked up at the man standing in front of him. There was no use hiding it now.

To his surprise, the man was smiling. He was dressed elegantly, with a lute hanging from his back. He tipped his feathered cap as a greeting and bowed.

“How fortuitous! I am seeking a Tallion man and his companion. I’m told you have a little anger problem.”

Yeldarb’s eyes narrowed as his suspicion grew. “You have me mistaken for someone else. I travel alone.”

The bard chuckled. “Relax, Yeldarb. I’m here to help.”

Yeldarb almost dropped his food all over again. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

The bard extended his hand. “Ah, where are my manners? The name is Finton Merrybrook. I’m the greatest storyteller in all of D’veen!”

Yeldarb never trusted bards. He always knew them to spin tales inside and outside their songs. Even so, this one seemed friendly enough.

“How are you going to help us?” Yeldarb asked.

Finton reached into the pouch hanging from his waist and pulled out a scroll.

“I have a contract here. I wish for both you and your companion to join a new guild that I am forming called The Order of the Pawn. In exchange for signing the contract, I will help Isara with her little demon problem.”

Yeldarb took the contract. He would read it later. “How can a bard possibly break a rage demon’s curse?” he asked.

Finton Merrybrook laughed. “Oh, I assure you, I am far more than a simple bard, my friend. Go back to Isara and read the contract together. When you’re ready to sign, I will find you again.”

Yeldarb secured the food and the contract in his pouch. He looked around the darkened street for any other witnesses and nodded as he pulled the hood back over his head.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll take a look,” he said, walking past the bard.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Yeldarb paused. “How will you know where to find us?”

“I have my ways,” Finton replied.

Yeldarb spun around to face the bard, but he was gone. The street was empty.

He hurried back to his camp outside the kingdom’s walls, eager to read the contract given to him by the mysterious Finton Merrybrook.