The small party of demons moved camp the next day, venturing further south-east towards the corner of two borders- the Dark Forest and Shadowmere. It was strategic. Nobody would dare stay so close to either dangerous lands. So when the hunters and enforcers come, they would not pass through such routes.
As Maz predicted, Garzon never mentioned the firewood he ordered Zephyr to collect. There was no point and the Draegorths appeared distracted on their little journey over. Zephyr didn't like their new location, it meant they were further away from civilisation.
It wouldn't bother him, but he'd begun to fall into a routine, and part of it revolved around not being near the Draegorths for long, stealing and 'experimenting' in the villages.
He wasn't the only one discontented in the matter. Maz made himself known, sulking over the new camp. He'd made it clear since working with Zephyr in the towns and villages that he was happily slaughtering humans when he could. It was probably why they were moving so far away, to stay out of trouble.
"We cannot stay this isolated from others-"
"Maz," Garzon snapped, stabbing his long sword into the ground.
That was the last thing said about the matter. Zephyr remained quiet; he was already targeted to follow, yet now, although the distance was far greater, he quickly lost Arikig uselessly tailing him and used it as further training to increase his stamina. As soon as he returned to the village, they left the horse, and he sold it to the stable where he'd been staying and split the profit with Dain.
Dain hadn't uttered his thanks or spoken to Zephyr since their argument, and because Fig was also under the watchful eye of the Draegorths, she pretty much clung to them, leaving Zephyr to become a loner again. It wasn't anything he wasn't used to; he had his own goals.
They were in a different location, but he continued with his routine, swinging a sword around in his spare time, pushing his 'warm up' past his original goals, stealing and hunting with Maz and losing Arikig all the time until the Slinktail had been called off, and Garzon watched Zephyr even more suspiciously.
Zephyr collapsed on his mat in the tent one night after cleaning himself up. He hadn't been experimenting this evening, but he had been practising. He was definitely stronger.
"Can I join you tomorrow?"
Zephyr's eyes snapped open to Dain's voice in the darkness. They hadn't spoken to each other in almost two weeks. The prick was stubborn, then again, so was he, but he concluded it had to do with their loner ways, accepting the burnt bridge for it was and moving on.
"Sure. Don't be a pussy, though." Zephyr shrugged.
"You say the oddest things sometimes," Dain replied, and that was that. Their bullshit fight was over, and the following day, Dain accompanied him in the evening to see what he'd been getting up to.
Zephyr wasn't going to stop on Dain's account or because there were increased guard patrols in the villages now. Maz still continued to torture and injure people, yet he refrained from killing so it didn't attract unwanted attention.
Apparently, torturing people wasn't a cause of alarm.
On the other hand, Zephyr was killing those who he deemed to be scum. He'd developed a kind of intuition—perhaps some weird demonic sixth sense—that signalled the presence of corrupt individuals. Sometimes, it manifested as faint whispers, while other times, it felt like a powerful roar or screech, jolting him into heightened awareness and directing his attention to the specific individual.
Zephyr was still figuring out the differences. He was keenly aware of the varying nature of those he killed. There was also an instinctual part of him, or possibly the Zephyrion, before he inhabited this body, which compelled him to torture them before their ultimate death—provided he heard the screeches of this creature within him. Otherwise, it was a quick death.
Once their blood seeped into the white snow and earth, a calmness settled over him on top of the darkness surging through his veins, either providing him with an energy boost or aiding in healing small injuries.
Tonight, Zephyr followed a guard, the whispers circling his ear. They'd recently been getting a little louder, and their words had been more coherent lately.
'Cheater.'
'Gambler.'
'Sold his daughter.'
Was that enough to judge the man on whether he would die by his hands? The darkness swelled within him, urging him on. It's a little too late for that bullshit now, though; his hands weren't exactly clean.
Dain was behind Zephyr, remaining as quiet as possible, hiding behind barrels in the alleyway. Zephyr continued his quiet pursuit, although he didn't understand how the guard didn't hear or feel him walking behind him. He didn't bother hiding his presence; the guy was exiting the backstreets.
Usually Zephyr would attack his prey before they could return to the main streets but a shiver to his right, the side another alleyway connected to this one, told him to hide.
His target would get away…
Groaning, he stepped back, stopping his pursuit, watching in astonishment as a group of men, the lot of them scum, rounded the alley, totally ignoring Zephyr and jumping the guard.
One man stood, arms crossed, as he cursed at the man while his men beat him up. "Your debts been paid, and I might not be a man of honour, but I hate any father that would sell their kid off for their own mistakes. That's unforgivable. Beat him 'til he stops breathing, then hang him out to dry."
Zephyr was slowly stepping back, claws digging into the side of his head where the whispers grew into feral screeches, annoying him more than anything. He winced, rolling his shoulders back; he followed the gang leader, reminded of the days his parents owed money to loan sharks.
It wasn't a pretty picture. One that kept repeating behind Zephyr's eyes as he followed this man who walked along these streets like he owned them, unfazed and certainly not expecting anyone to be stupid enough to kill him.
Until Zephyr's sword sank through the man's back and swiped up, slicing him in two, his face full of disbelief as he fell to the ground.