Demon in the Snow by Heather Fledderus (best novels in english .txt) 📕

The two of them entered the premises, the little wicket gate turning on rusted hinges as they passed. What grass there was was withered at the root, bent and brown. It rustled strangely underfoot. Nate couldn't wait any longer, “How do you manage to keep on wearing this jacket in the middle of the summer?”

Cain grinned at him as they reached the door, “We survive. Besides, being a member of the Crimson Dragons entitles us to certain privileges.”

“Like what?”

“Like private quarters in the barracks so that we can meditate.”

Nate had to admit to himself that that alone was worth the price of wearing the leather jacket in the hot months, even if his meditation was different than expected by the Council. Even the other Dragons would kill him if they really knew what he did. He had been reading up on the laws that dictated the use of demons, and knew that he was already on the verge of committing a felony. If they caught him using the time to train with his demons, entering his Cache to do so, there was no way he could escape the punishment.

Before either of them could reach for the handle, the door swung outward, catching Cain by surprise. Nate slipped to one side with a  mild, unnoticeable teleport as Cain stumbled back a few steps, holding his nose. Nate glanced down to see that is was Sora, who seemed to be taller than the last time he had seen him. He grinned up at Nate, “Hey! I just heard the news. How awesome is this? It's like old times, a thousand percent better.”

Cain managed by that point to catch himself, and stormed over to Sora, pushing up the sleeve of his jacket. “You little brat! I don't care who you are-”

“Take it easy, man,” Nate said, stepping in. When Cain got angry, he was a mess to deal with. It was one of the reasons why they had been partnered- only Nate seemed to be capable of calming Cain back to a least a hint of sanity.

“What's the commotion?” Hannah asked, hitching her sword over her head so that the strap rested on her shoulder as she leaned into the door-frame.

“Nate's friend was picking on me,” Sora complained in a petulant tone.

“You little-”

“Cain!” Nate barked.

The glow faded from Cain's eyes. He blinked rapidly, his head shaking slightly from side to side. “Sorry about that,” he apologized.

“Hi, Nate.”

Nate glanced back at Hannah, “Hey. How've you been?”

“She's been pretty good,” Chad interrupted, pushing past them to emerge into the hot sun, “But we have bigger problems to deal with. There's a disturbance over in Sector Three. We've been called in for back-up.”

“Three?” Cain asked, surprised, “That's near the old grounds, isn't it?”

“Yeah, you two hurry up and dump your stuff off. There's some rooms towards the back you can use.”

“Thanks.” Nate dragged Cain into the cool interior.

Cain freed himself and walked briskly through the darkness. “Thanks back there.”

“No problem.”

“No,” Cain corrected turning to look at him, “It is a problem. If something happened to you, I'd be a basket-case. Kicked off the team, and left in some alley to drown out the rest of my days in uselessness. Temperamental 'Slayers are dangerous to have around, so I'd lose my job. I'd be the next Foster Davis.” Foster Davis was a former 'Slayer who hopped off the bandwagon after his partner and wife was killed and now spent his days frequenting any of the dozen run-down taverns that the Crimson Dragons often had meetings at.

Cain wandered through the wooden room, leaving Nate behind. The floor, ceiling, and walls were all made of oak, with beams crossing the ceiling to add support, along with the two wooden columns standing at even enough spaces so that the large room was divided into thirds. Against one wall was a kitchenette, with the island doubling as the meal table as stools were positioned all around it. There were eight, in case the group invited another team over for a visit. Along the wall to his right were bunks, meant for the members of the team who weren't Crimson Dragons.

Nate still didn't understand. Why did the Crimson Dragons get such special treatment as compared to the others? What made them so special that they needed to be separate from the rest of the team? Crimson Dragons were known for their abilities in battle, and were among the top most powerful of each division of the four categories of 'Slayers. And it was true that some needed to meditate, especially Pyros and Summoners, to become more mentally attuned to the aspects of battle that they invariably got tangled into: executions, tactical interceptions, and taking on higher-classed demons than any other 'Slayer.

Cain came back, jacket gone, and in it's place there was a crimson badge attached to his arm with a strip of even darker cloth. On the badge was a black Chinese dragon, its arms raised to attack. “I've got the room on the left. You can have the one across, or further down if you want.”

He raised an eyebrow, seeing Nate standing in the middle of the room still wearing his jacket. “You should probably change, eh? The jacket's for the home front, not the field. Your badge should be in your bag.”

Nate nodded and pushed past him, choosing the room furthest away from both the bunks and Cain's room. Inside, there was a simple mat on the floor, with a blanket and pillow neatly piled at the foot of it. No further adornment added any sort of flavour to the room, but he had come to expect that of Crimson barracks. Nothing frilly meant nothing to distract the meditator from his meditation. He rolled his eyes, dropped his pack to the floor, and struggled out of his jacket. The leather clung to his damp skin, but at last he freed himself from its confines, dropping the inside-out jacket to the floor. He sighed with relief at the immediate change- his bare arms free to move in the cool air.

He dug around and came up with the badge, tying it quickly to his left bicep before grabbing his jacket and hanging it on the solitary hook on the door. He grabbed a knife he had bought in the market years back, and carved a number into the door, marking the room as his. The blocky eight would mean nothing to anyone but him, unless they were a demon.

He trudged back out to meet Cain, immediately noticing the difference even between their uniforms. While his was like a muscle shirt, the top of Cain's uniform had long sleeves, with the cloth around his forearms pulled tight to avoid any useless inhibition that the clothing might bring him. Cain grinned and punched him in the arm, “You do realize that the only chick on our team is Saitou, right?”

Nate shrugged, “So?”

“So your uniform's not gonna be that much of a chick magnet.”

Nate punched him back, not as hard as he would have liked, but enough to make Cain back off. “What's the old grounds?” he asked, steering them away from Hannah.

Cain shrugged casually, as if the answer didn't mean anything. “It's where punishments were enforced- you mess up, your punishement would be to face a certain class of demon. Bigger the crime, the tougher the demon. Demons were captured and shipped here, back in the day. They'd be released in special arenas, and teams of 'Slayers would have to work in concert to defeat them, especially if they had been enhanced.”

They emerged into the hot sun, but it didn't seem near as bad as before to Nate. Cain glanced around, “Huh, looks like Senshi went on ahead of us.”

“We're part of Senshi too now, you know,” Nate pointed out.

Cain shrugged, “You might, but I'll never play square with a couple of Saitous.”

“What do you have against them?”

In response, Cain crouched and launched himself up into the air. Nate snatched up an ability from a class-F in his Cache and raced to catch up. Seeing Nate beside him, Cain decided to divulge. “You know the grounds and the punishments? That was only for Commoners and members of the Branch families. Nineteen years ago, the members of the last team to be forced to participate had committed a serious felony. The Family in charge of the grounds was exempted, meaning that the other two members of the team had the option of not participating, sentencing the two felons to a painful death as they tried to battle an enhanced C-class demon. They put up a good fight, but in the end they were killed. An Illusionist and a Pyro were no match for the demon on their own.

“They died, leaving behind a daughter and three sons. I was one of them. The two felons were my parents. Their crime? They failed to report the birth of their Pyro daughter to the proper House.

“The other two team members were none other than Lord Saitou, current Head of the Fourth Great House, and his lackey Oochi. Together, they all could have survived, they would have defeated that demon no problem.

“Because the Saitou House didn't want to risk the life of their Head, my parents died in the arena like dogs.”

Cain pushed his Hayakku to go even faster, and Nate let him pull ahead, unsure of what else he could do. The  fire-type demon in his Cache seized his moment of uncertainty to try to free itself, but several of the other demons held him down, so that Nate could only hear its voice.

They are ruled by their emotions. Being allies with them serves no purpose!

“Shut up!” Nate growled at him, accelerating to zoom past Cain, sensing out Hannah's presence to guide him to the right place. “We aren't allies.”

Nate caught up to the rest of the team and slowed down. He had no clue where the grounds were, so better to let them lead. He didn't even look at Hannah, instead turning his attention to Sora.

“So, do we know what class or type this thing is?”

Sora shook his head, “No. We just received the order to go in for back-up, which makes me think that it might  be a C.” Nate could see the fear Sora was feeling, and realized that the rest of the team was like that. They had just lost a senior member of their team to a C-class. There was no way they were prepared to fight another one, even if they were the back-up.

“Why us?”

“Because we're the only team on site. Our Mobile Corps are tied up with affairs in Misd. They've been getting holes ripped in their sky, which shouldn't be possible, but it's happening anyways.”

“We're almost there,” Chad said, “Get ready.”

“Is Chad in charge now?” Nate muttered to Sora.

Mutely, Sora nodded, his eyes fixed straight ahead but unseeing.

Nate chanced a glance behind them, but saw no sign of Cain along the horizon. He turned back to see them bearing down on a huge structure, with the same design as a Roman coliseum. Even as they approached, a giant dust-cloud mushroomed above the massive pillars. Hannah tugged her sword free, it began to glow almost instantaneously.

Then they were over the wall and