P R O L O G U E
A lone demon roamed the streets of La'To, Heme.
Blossoming beneath a rich coral sky, the beautiful town of stone stood still in the evening twilight. In the air, pigeons and crows glided softly upon a damp cool breeze that would eventually bring forth the dark of night. The town was at peace, sometimes quivering lightly with human noises and the mellow, seductive scent of home cooking.
The lone figure strolled forth upon the sun-warmed stony floors, silently almost, except for that bubbly sound of winds rippling through the skirts of his mantle. He was dressed in pure black, from shirt to boots. Together with the hood of the mantle over his head, his also black hair had cast an equally dark shadow down upon his pale adolescent face.
A pair of cold reptilian eyes glowed a soft cyan as they glanced into the flowering water fountain far ahead in the empty town square. Up above an arm of the giant clock stroked twelve, and seven gongs sounded from atop of every bell tower of churches nearby. A majestic chorus ensued, commanding the town with what sounded like the power of God.
Nevermind the ominous figure that had made his way to the core of downtown, La'To.
Ah... It has been two and a half decades since he left, and so much have changed around the merchant streets. The convenience stores, the movie theaters, all the fancy glass architectures... All those new human commodities that arose from their newfound plaything called technology.
But, the chapels and churches remained the same old. And so did he.
Some demons never change.
Sliding his mask out from beneath the folds of his mantle, he set the whiteness upon his face. No more reptilian eyes, no more pale skin. The adolescent face was also no more.
With a firm kick against the hard stones of the town square floor, he rose into the air, the cape's fabric fluttering with wind and motion. A twirl and with the grace of an angel, he rested his feet atop the high clock tower that overlooked the whole of La'To.
There he waits for the dark night, so silently as he had always been patient.
C H A P T E R . I
It first began on a night beneath the half-moon.
Dressed in black as he had always been, pale fingers snaked out from beneath the dark skirts of his mantle to unlock the old rusty gate that barred their sheep. The sheep---or humans, rather, they have been shepherded into the darkness by the pull of either curiosity or desire. Unseeing were they all, except for their surroundings. Gears creaked, turned and time sounded in the air. They were inside the dusty interior of a giant clock tower.
He melted into the darkness to join those shades that were eager to be with humans. This was not the first time that he had conducted this sort of rendezvous between the supernatural and mankind---though that last incident was more than a decade ago. The black-clad demon had his purpose, and the humans their own. A meeting like this is merely a convenient exchange of interests.
The humans have made their way up onto the observatory platform that was stationed way up against the tall walls of the interior. They stood waiting, a candle in each grasp as prepared by the host.
They were sheep: humans, they are. They were the daily bread of the demons; and they were ambitious, some more than others. And so the demon became their one shepherd. With two ominous shadows following after him, the boy emerged from the darkness and claimed his stand at the center of the crowd. He parted his lips.
"Greetings, humans," he said quietly. His voice was smooth, perhaps that of an adolescent boy; though his tone dismissed any age. "You have come for these two, and these two have come for you," he declared. "Go on."
Unleashing the two shady figures, he had let the humans make contact with the shades. A pair of glaring cyan eyes beneath the shadows of his hood, he watched and pushed the contracts to take place.
To Ride (Xeridan Mélangue), a demon was contracted and named Kael.
To Jack Diamond, a demon was contracted and named Duke.
And that was only the first dark night.
C H A P T E R . I I
Upon an investigation order from the Church, two exorcists hit the bar.
Bars and alcohol were not something banned to the holy men, although a shady location such as the Scarlet Cat would certainly raise some doubts on the integrity of one. Like security officers on a stunt mission, the two went undercover. Claude Whickham and Iclair de Arcadus of the St. Lorianne's Church---two priests now looking like a duo of cowboy pimp and male hooker---entered the bar to search for tips on the latest "strange happenings".
Little did they know strangeness were to their seats left and right---Jack and Ride were both there, same place, same time, though apparently not quite yet on friendly terms. Within the exchanges of the four-way conversation however, it was not long before the street-wise Jack became suspicious of the two priests' cover-up as pimp and hooker. Storming out of the bar feeling dismayed, Jack resolved to find out Iclair's true identity.
---
Another night yet again, though this time it was out in the skirts of La'To, an hour north in the darkness. A house awaited them---not so much a safe one like your average Victorian home, though perhaps just as comfortable.
It was the Alchemist's lair.
The green-haired man with a twisted temper and even wilder smile greeted the curious humans. Rethen Kel'Sviet was his name. And you can tell that the madman was a fairly successful alchemist---his form was barely human.
Seeming to be associated with the demon in black, he had offered his shop for the holding of the second dark night.
Two more humans were made contractors that evening. Tamiel Haisborough, and Noctis Farron.
C H A P T E R . I I I
. . .
