Special Event 1: Lyre part 2

Lyre narrowed his eyes and his grasp tightens on his crossed arms as he watches the figure across the way.  For what seems like eternity they keep looking at each other when a scream splits the air.  Lyre’s focus quickly seeks out its source, deciding that they were more important than the figure watching him.

A young female demon jumped out of her seat a few yards from Lyre, making the group of males she was with stare at her in confusion for a bit.  She stutters incoherently and points at something on the ground.  Lyre grits his teeth as he watches a familiar green serpent rapidly weaving her way among the chair legs on her way back to him.  The males, realizing that Lon was the cause of the female’s fear start to crash after her.  When Lon reaches his chair Lyre hangs his arm down for her to slither up while his eyes watch the angry demons coming towards him.  They all pause and stand in a circle around him while Lon hisses at them from her perch on Lyre’s shoulders.  Silently they all stare at each other for a bit while the party continues on behind them, the participants oblivious to the tension in the corner.

The female stands hesitantly at the back, her eyes locked on Lon as the snake continues to hiss at her and the males in irritation.  She finally quiets when Lyre looks at her from the corner of his eye before looking back at the demons.  His face is emotionless as his eyes meet the angry expressions of the males.  Finally one of them steps closer and says:

“Is that your snake?”

Lyre quickly realizes that these demons were not very smart before replying:
“What do you think?”

The male who spoke tilts his head in confusion, unsure if Lyre’s answer was a yes or a no, but the small snort made by the female cues him into the fact that he had made a fool of himself.  He glares at Lyre for a moment before sneering.  His yellow and cracked teeth separate as his tongue swipes his lips as if getting ready for a nice meal before he coils then lunges at Lyre.

Lyre, always ready for a violent reaction kicks the half eaten table into the male’s stomach, at the same time propelling himself backwards and out of his reach.  As he does so he slightly twitches his hand and the water that was left in his bottle flows to his hands as he stands up from the chair. The male growls and chucks the table at Lyre before charging, but he ducks and, hooking the chair with his foot, spins to slam it against the male as he dodges the clumsy attack.  The chair breaks upon impact as Lyre backs up to the wall of the tent, knees bent and body tensed, ready to respond to another attack.  The male growls as he glares at Lyre, then he smiles before charging again, his arms spread wide while one of the other males falls into place behind him.

Lyre waits until the first male is only a few feet from him before slipping under the male’s arm, at the same time shooting some of the water he has into its eyes.  The second demon lunges and tries to grab onto Lyre, successfully grabbing onto his arm for a moment before Lon strikes forward and bites his hand, releasing her venom into his veins.  The demon screams as he releases his grip on Lyre to back up as fast as he can.  Only to run into the first demon and fall into a tangled heap on the ground.  Lyre, not waiting for them to recover runs towards the female and her two remaining males who stand in front of her.  Lyre smiles before nimbly jumping onto one of the other tables and launching himself over the group.  He lands on the ground behind them and smoothly transitions into a run.

Lyre makes his way through the crowd, staying low and easily weaving his way among the multitude of beings.  His breath is fairly even as he exits the other side and rushes towards the exit of the tent.  Only to see the one who had been staring at him from across the tent blocking his way.  Lyre’s blood runs cold as he recognizes the face hidden under a dark gray hood.  His race remains blank, but his eyes fill with a mixture of rage and fear as he comes to a halt a few feet from the demon.

Screams in the crowd behind him tells Lyre that the males were coming for him, but he doesn’t move while he and the cloaked demon stare at each other.  Lon, tensed keeps looking from the hooded figure and back towards the crowd, that, figuring out where the group of males was trying to go were now trying to get out of their way.  Hissing she flares out her hood and moves herself in front of Lyre’s view.  He starts before shaking his head and looking at the group behind him.  Raking his brain for a plan Lyre looks back at the hooded demon and ducks as a dagger is thrown through the air towards where his head had been.  He grunts as the demon slams into him and they roll on the ground.

The cloaked demon tries to pin Lyre on the ground, but releases him when Lon tries to strike his face.  Taking advantage of the distraction Lyre kicks the demon off of him and struggles to his feet before being knocked flying by one of the males.  He manages to struggle to his feet and roll out of the way of an attack made by a small demon from the group.  Wincing in pain Lyre is on his feet and snarls at the demons now blocking the exit of the tent.

Thinking quickly he scans the area and tries to think of a plan. Then, seeing the mostly patched up hole torn in the side of the tent by the scuffle that had drawn his attention here in the first place he comes up with an idea.  His full attention returns to the group of males and the hooded figure in front of him.  His eyes narrow in frustration as he realized that the cloaked one and the group of males were ignoring each other, a temporary alliance forged to overtake Lyre.  Cursing under his breath Lyre slowly steps backwards in a defensive crouch.

His heart rate decreases as he begins to fall into a familiar state of calm.  His eyes slowly lose their rage as he forces his anger down and falls into a practiced breathing pattern, so when the first strike, a wave of flame, comes he is ready.  He jumps above the reach of the flames, drawing his feet up close to his body to create the extra space he needs.  Lon tightens her grip on Lyre and wraps her head close in fear as she tries to keep herself pressed as tightly against Lyre’s body as possible.

The first and largest demon charges in at the pair, following closely behind the flames.  Lyre wraps his arms around himself and fling them out again, forcing the water in a glass bottle hidden in his sash to burst out with the shards at high speed to hit the demon squarely in the face.  Angry and blind the demon takes a wild swing, catching Lyre in thigh and throwing him against the wooden bar.

Coughing he quickly regains his feet and jumps on top of the bar as the small demon tries to charge into him.  It crashes into the side of the bar and knocks itself unconscious while the hooded demon runs forward, a short sword in its hand.  It quickly jumps onto the bar as Lyre starts running along its length, scattering a multitude of unfinished drinks and bringing as much of the liquids with him as he can.  Reaching the end of the bar Lyre plants his foot and launches himself in an arch backwards, over the head of his attacker.  His twists his body in the air to avoid the slice of the sword, managing to protect himself for the most part, but it still bites into his thigh.

Landing somewhat balanced Lyre quickly turns around and starts running back towards the front of the tent again, the water still following him, only to see the female demon standing in front of him.  He glares at her while Lon risks facing the female and hissing, but doesn’t stop running.  She smiles wickedly as she uncoils a whip from around her waist and flicks it once before flipping it forward in a well-practiced movement.  Lyre raises his arms defensively, wincing as it cuts into his arm.  Trying hard not to lose his temper Lyre jumps off of the bar and rushes towards the exit.  He winces as he feels the whip hit him in the back, his scroll kept safe from a spell that prevents it from being damaged or dirtied.  His eyes seem to laugh as he realizes that the remaining two males were both standing by the exit.  Breathing harder now he fakes towards them before entering a full out sprint towards the hold in the side of the tent.

Without even slowing down Lyre shoves the water following him against the hole in a torrent of liquid, forcing the gap to spread open enough for him to dive through.  Rolling on the other side he uses his momentum to regain his feet in a smooth movement before sprinting on.  The bright lights and smells of the square overloading his senses as he forces his way through the crowd.  Reaching its edge he risks a quick look back to see the cloaked figure running after him.  Cussing Lyre ducks down an alley and quickly scales a broken wall on one side, hauling himself inside the abandoned building.  He stands and quietly moves away from the opening and towards a flight of stairs he heads towards the roof of the building.

Reaching the roof he takes a deep breath of the cool night air to steady himself before walking towards the edge.  He looks over the rail towards the mass of people below, Lon stretching her neck away from him to peer over herself.  But when they hear the soft footfalls of someone walking up the stair behind them they both turn and watch as the hooded demon steps out onto the roof.

The demon’s hood falls back as he unhooks the clasp keeping the cloak on his back.  A strong gust of wind carries it away while the man draws a knife with his left hand, the short sword from before still in his right.  Lyre glares the male demon in front of him, his blood pressure rising as he feels his rage rising.  His voice tempered, Lyre quietly says:

“Long time no see father.”

The demon glares at him, his teeth bared in a snarl as his eyes over flow with a dreadful hatred.  His voice is cracked and sharp as he replies:

“I’m going to kill you, you bloody bastard.”

Lyre sighs, his gaze flat and emotionless as he glares at his father.  Memories try to resurface but he holds them at bay, well aware that his patience and self-control was about to disappear completely, and he would need all of his wit to try and escape.  His father snarls and slowly starts to walk closer, his teeth rotten and falling out.  Lyre guesses that was a side effect of being locked in prison.

He stands his ground as his father draws nearer, unwilling to let himself get too close to the edge of the roof.  Lon slowly unwinds herself from around Lyre’s neck and slithers down to the rooftop.  It does not take her long to disappear behind some boxes.  Lyre barely spares her a glance to make sure she was out of harm before standing with his arms crossed and meeting his father’s powerful gaze with his own level stare.  After a few moments of listening to nothing but the panting breath of his father Lyre says:
“Well, are you coming for me or not?”  Well aware of his father’s limited patience from past experiences.

With a snarl his father attacked.  He lunged forward and swung his sword in a wide arc at the level of the navel.  Lyre quickly pivots on his right foot and drops low to avoid the strike before lunging up to grab his father’s left hand as it tried to stab at him with the knife.  Staying close to him Lyre pivots so he is standing next to his father while still holding the older demon’s left wrist.  When his father tries to stab him with his sword Lyre quickly pivots on his back foot away from the blow but keeps his position next to his father.  His father, having no choice but to go along with it tries to regain his balance, but it is not long before Lyre steps forward at the same moment that his father draws his sword back.  At the same time, he hooks his arm under his father’s chin, moving his chin up and then forcing his back to bend until he falls to the ground.

Lyre walks another few paces before turning around to face his father again.  His father slowly stands up but is barely on his feet even a second before he lunges wildly at Lyre.  He quickly tries to dodge out of the way, but his father throws out his left arm, now without the knife, and slams his head against the rail before pinning Lyre on his back.  He smiles as Lyre looks up, his head pounding after its blow to the railing.  Laughing madly his father sits on him, slowly raising his sword and pointing the tip at Lrye’s throat.  The laughing sets Lyre off.

With a snarl of his own Lyre grasps his father’s shirt and pulls him down toward him, to slam his head against his.  At the same time he draws up his feet and plants them solidly against his father’s abdomen before pushing him up violently.  Lyre, using his arms as a brace, flips his father mostly over the railing before letting go.  His father desperately grasps at the railing, managing to hook his left arm over it.  However, Lyre is on his feet and slowly walks towards him.

All Lyre sees is red.  His right hand catches the blade of his father’s sword as the demon swing it at him.  A low pitched growl escapes his throat as his father looks into his eyes, a cold, depthless blue, before Lyre rips the sword out of his father’s hand.  Blood runs down Lyre’s hand but he pays it no heed as he reaches down and wraps his hands around his father’s arms.  Slowly he pries them off of the railing before growling in his father’s face.  Then he slams his father against the ground before grabbing his arm and pulling it up while he plants his foot on his father’s shoulder.  His father struggles but lets out a scream when he feels his shoulder become dislocated.  Gasping for breath the old demon stretches his other hand out for the knife he had discarded earlier.  Biting his lip against the pain he finally manages to grasp the handle and grasps it in his hand.  Lyre steps off of his father’s shoulder, but starts to pull him into a standing position, slamming him against the railing.

Lyre hisses and lets his father go when he feels a sharp pain in his arm.  His father, taking the chance ducks under Lyre’s arm and runs towards the door he had entered the roof from.  Lyre, still confused by the knife in his arm grasps it and pulls it out in an angry movement before whipping his head up to glare at his father.  The older demon meanwhile, grasping his dislocated arm, sneers at him and before disappearing through the door says:

“This isn’t over you brat.”

Hissing Lyre takes a few steps towards the door before falling to the ground.  Confused and still enraged he tries to stand up again only to fail and fall flat on his face.  After trying again a few times he collapses to the ground in exhaustion.  A few minutes later his head starts to clear, and he plants his palms on the rooftop surface to roll himself over.  Shaking a little he sits up, wincing at the pain in his arm and shoulder.  He looks at his feet to see Lon curled tightly around them.  No wonder he wasn’t able to stand up earlier.

Sighing he offers her his hand, and she slowly unwraps her-self before sliding up his arm to wrap herself around his shoulders yet again.  Lon flicks her tongue out uneasily as Lyre staggers to his feet.  He looks down at his arm and rotates his shoulder to make sure there was no permanent damage done before walking back towards the edge of the roof.  Taking in a deep breath he slowly exhales it before sighing:

“Sorry for scaring you.”  His gaze resting on Lon.  The snake shakes her head and flicks him playfully with her tongue before raising her head to taste the air.  Letting out another small sigh before closing his left eye.  He quickly switches to look through each of his planted eyes, except the one on top of Lon’s head.  He grits his teeth in pain as some demon’s cat, or cat-like creature notices him looking at it and jumps up to its hiding spot to claw it.  Lyre opens his normal eye in time to watch the injured eye blink its torn lids on his forearm before they close.  He winces a bit at the pain it causes but sighs before slowly recalling those eyes he had planted in somewhat more exposed areas.

With three eyes on each arm now, five thankfully uninjured, Lyre decides the rest are still safe and leaves them for the time being.  Lon dips her head back and forth in front of him until he gives her a slight smile and starts heading back towards the stairs.

It doesn’t take the pair long to reach the ground floor, and after checking to make sure the way was clear they exit the building and head back towards the center square.  The duo pass by a demon entertainer showing off his skills at controlling fire while completing acrobatic stunts.  They pause by a stand selling roasted rats and other delicacies before walking on.  Lon happily swallowing the rat whole after Lyre removes it from its stick.  Lon himself chose a small container of dried grasshoppers to munch on as they keep walking with the crowd.

The pair pass by some more entertainers, some juggling glass orbs while others were playing instruments, their music filling the already scented air with even more cheer.  After a while Lyre and Lon find a more quiet corner with a tall post rising into the night air.  It doesn’t take them long to reach the top, where Lyre sits with one leg hanging free, the other drawn up to his chest as he watches the multitude of demons below him, from all of the Nations mingling during the festival.  He tilts his head back to stare at the moon shining above him before slowly closing his left eye.  The festivities are now well under way, and there was work to be done, information to be gathered.