Chapter 256 - 256

"Our clan name is so ugly." A young man around seventeen years old said while munching onto a bright red apple. He wiped the corners of his mouth, the juice of the fresh fruit slowly leaving his lips when one of the people he was talking to threw a small stone at him. The young boy sat up surprised, resulting in his snack meeting the floor. "Hey! Why would you do that?" he cried.

"It's not your place to criticize our clan's name. Now do your chores because we have training later." The boy who was actually in the same age as him scolded him and tossed him a broom. "Mark, sometimes I believe our teachers were wrong for letting you study here."  He told him and the boy faked being hurt. 

His appearance was the same, even his name, nothing had changed. His eyes were clear and big, a single glow of mischief on them as he began sweeping the porch of the dorm rooms, maple leaves, red and orange being swept everywhere, dancing with the wind. His hair burning red, shining underneath the burning hot sun. He wiped some sweat ofrf his forehead before he looked at his classmate with a grin.

"Well, they had no other choice. I am stronger than all of you after all." He told him with a fake smile and the boy looked at him in shock. 

"Your audacity…"

"Is one of my most charming points."

"No. It will be your doom. Stop cleaning here, get to the back and clean the porches there. Don't go into the big storage. You know it's sealed for now. We have a guest."

"Okay, okay" he said lazily and grabbed his broom. He left the area he was cleaning, actually happy that he was leaving that strict and stern classmate of his behind. At least at the back he would be able to sneak out without anyone noticing. He hated doing chores. From mopping to dusting off the huge libraries with the old books every single job he was given was utterly annoying and degrading. 

Where he was at the moment was the Fern Academy, created by the Fern clan. Fern was a plant with very small leaves that formed a feather like shape and Mark completely hated it. This small academy outside of the bustling city consisted of many buildings. The training rooms, the dorms, the kitchen, the libraries and the storages. The name had been given to the clan because of the connection of the plant with magic. Magic, yes, everything that happened there was quite abnormal. Mark's clan was special. They were a group of people with inherited abilities that were used to fight off demons. They were called exorcists and were able as humans to use magic and see the hidden figures behind The Veil. Every clan had different techniques. Every person had different attributes too and here in Fern Academy they trained them to go out into the world and fight. Most of the kids studying here were from the main branches, skilled and perfectionists raised like well-tuned soldiers, they seemed to be perfect at everything they did. So it was no wonder everyone was surprised when Mark, a boy of mixed blood, from a smaller branch was brought in with extremely promising abilities. Everyone, even his teachers were mean to him and at every chance they got they tried to bring him down just because of where he came from. The one thing they couldn't overlook though were his powers and that was the reason he still had a place to stay. 

He mopped the floors more than anyone, did the laundry more than anyone and the time he had for training himself was actually half of that of normal students. Still, he did manage somehow to stay at the top. Being intelligent helped him a lot. Also the fact that he wouldn't sleep at night and study in secret was a plus. He always pretended to be care free, not really minding the abuse but in reality he was anxious. If one day everyone realized that his potential had limits he would be kicked out. He was an orphan so that naturally meant that Mark would be forced to live on the streets. 

He was thinking about all of these things as he headed at the back of the main building where most of their lessons were held. While hugging his broom he looked around the deserted area, thinking which part of the fence would be easier for him to climb. He wanted to sneak out for a while and play in the river. He had been there ever since he was a child but they never allowed him to play or have any friends. His life was quite pitiful, he thought with a bitter smile when a loud noise made him flinch. 

It came right from the big storage. The one his classmate had warned him not to go into. As he said they had a guest. That guest was actually a demon his teachers had previously caught and were preparing to exorcise him and send him back to hell. Usually, low level demons were exorcised on the spot or even destroyed completely. So for that demon to be brought in there, and to be kept sealed in the storage it must have meant that he was really strong. 

The loud noise was heard again. It sounded like someone was banging on a door, or maybe like the sound of metal vibrating as it moved restlessly. Mark couldn't know. He had never been allowed to walked into one of them. Usually his route would be his room at the dorms, the classrooms and training rooms with his most frequent spot being the kitchen where he was assigned his chores. The smell of soup and freshly baked bread was the only comforting scent around him most of the times, even if he wasn't allowed to touch any of the food.

He stopped in front of the iron door of the storage. It did not have a lock. Instead a huge seal was placed on it, painted with bright red paint. Mark red easily the scribbles on it, the phases of the moon and the spells that were meant to expel all evil. He stood silent for a while, his grip tight on the broom stick as a grin formed on his face. Yes, he could sneak out but he could also see what was the creature behind that door. Demons most of the times looked terrifying. With disported faces, yellow teeth and foul stenches of rotten smell they could easily haunt your nightmares with only one simple glance. What if he tried to exorcise it on his own? Maybe then people would leave him alone for a while, he would be able to get some rest. 

"Here goes nothing" he mumbled and threw the broom to the ground, raising some dust that landed messily on his boots. They were a dark brown pair of heavy leather boots while his uniform consisted of black pants and a white shirt with the emblem of their clan sewed above their heart. Around their solders a cape rested. Its color changed considering your rank in the Academy or more like how fortunate you were to be born as close as you could to the head of the clan. Mark was at the bottom so his cape was black while people at the top were a fiery vibrant red. He didn't mind, he found it tacky anyways. They looked like charlatans that pretended to be kings. He thought to himself and chuckled before his palm landed in the middle of the seal. 

With ease Mark broke it, the letters on it catching fire and leaving only black marks where they used to exist. The seal was now nonexistent and nothing was there to keep the door closed anymore. The heavy metal fell down echoing in the wide space and Mark gulped, for a second regretting his decision. What if he was scared to death by the disgusting monster? What if his heart stopped from his horrid appearance? He would always get nauseous seeing their sketches in his books, seeing one face to face maybe it would be too much. 

It was too late now though, the door had fallen and everything had become exposed. The teenage boy walked in, everything dark around him and he heard the same noise again, this time a lot louder, making his ears hurt. He put out his hand, a white flame lighting up, offering him some kind of vision. The room was definitely not the storage you kept things in. It was a huge round room made of wood with only one window. On the floor there was a magical circle, one that was made to contain the monster while on the ceiling there were iron hoops that were attached to chains. That was the sound. It was the sound of the demon pulling his chains, Mark realized. 

He was scared to look at his face so like a curious child he began by stealing a few glances. He was on his knees, small pools of blood everywhere around him, the demon's blood. Some said that if you drunk a powerful demon's blood you would become immortal, the red haired thought as his eyes moved higher. He was wearing black leather pants while his upper body was mostly exposed, his white shirt ripped into shreds, whip marks decorating his chest. He was muscular and from the looks of it he was also tall, very tall. Mark thought. He had a human body, he realized. Two hands and two feet. That somehow made him feel slightly relieved, braved so he could look at his face. 

The fire in his palm shone brighter as his interest was getting more and more peaked. His wrists were chained, cuffs surrounding them. The heavy chains led to the ceiling, his arms constantly pointing up. He moved his muscular arms again, pulling on his restraints but they wouldn't budge. His head was facing towards the ground and Mark took a wary step forwards, his footsteps echoing in the room. He wanted to see now, this was the first time he was seeing a human like demon. He had never heard of one existing either. 

His hair was long, black and messy, hiding his face and Mark frowned as he couldn't see well. The demon as if he sensed his frustration snapped his head up and their eyes met. Mark gasped at the sight. His eyes were slanted, one totally black while the other was a bright yellow. His skin was pale, almost deadly, and his nose was long and perfectly straight. His lips were full and looked really soft, a small beauty mark underneath his bottom lip on the left side. The moment he saw Mark he licked them, his tongue sliding on them before he smiled, revealing a pair of sharp fangs. The edges of his ears were also visible, they were pointy and long, different from a human's while in the edges of his forehead two small horns made an appearance. 

Despite those demonic characteristics his appearance was perfect. From his body to his face he looked more like a mythical creature of unmeasured beauty rather than a demon, a creature forged in the fiery pits of hell made to torture and kill. Mark was frozen, he couldn't take his eyes away from him and his heart rate slowly but steadily sped up, revealing how mesmerized he was by him. 

"You are not a monster." He mumbled, not realizing he said that out loud. 

"Well, should I take that as a compliment?" the demon asked and Mark's eyes widened. It could speak. It was talking to him!