Chapter 3
Three
DEMITRIA
D emitria found herself wandering the community in search of Jace a few hours later. Having tried three separate locations, he hadn’t been at either. For the fifth time, she came upon the gate. Smiling once more at Tyler, the same Guardian on watch when they’d returned, she gave another sheepish wave.
“Have you seen Jace?” She finally called to him.
“He was at the Smith’s about ten minutes ago, not sure if he’d still be there, though.” Ocean-blue eyes watched her, waiting for her to move. “Everything alright? I’d be happy to help with whatever you need.” She groaned, having been there fifteen minutes prior. The Smith’s hadn’t been anything fancy, but it did the job. With the Guardians and their need for weapons, they’d needed someone to deal with forging and repairing. Although quaint, the job had always been done well. A hobby, in another life, she’d wager. The Guardian smiled, and she hesitated to return it. Too friendly. More than his usual.
“Everything is fine.” Demitria forced herself to chuckle. Jace must have mentioned something about her mood earlier, and Demitria made a mental note to have a word with him about that, too. “Just wanted to talk to him is all.” Shoulders raised in a shrug, Demitria gave a curt nod before turning swiftly on her heels, beginning the path to her new destination.
“I’m here if you ever need me!” She cursed under her breath. The boy had always been kind to her since he and his family had come to Solis, but even this was beyond his normal. Unsure on who else Jace had found the time to conveniently chat with, Demitria kept quiet as she ducked left down a short pathway. Refusing to meet the eyes of anyone else around as she continued.
Having worked out in her favor, Jace had been exactly where Tyler had said he’d be. Jace was deep in conversation with their smith, Evan. The man’s hair had grayed quickly upon his arrival to Solis, and he had a tendency to keep it cut short to his scalp. Despite his age, the muscling in his forearms was prominent as he demonstrated his newest creation to her friend.
Casually leaning against the doorway, Demitria crossed her arms as she waited for them to finish. Interrupting would earn her a stern scolding from Evan, and that was something she wasn’t in the mood for. Fixating on a loose thread at the hem of her dark shirt, she waited. The flames of the forge crackled in the center of the room. The heat leeched several degrees warmer into the street. Her eyes wandered the room. An array of weapons adorned the walls around them. His creations were impressive, she’d give him that. The sword he’d made her two years prior had been the best she’d ever wielded, and having been thrust into a Guardian role from the early stages of Solis, she’d handled a lot. Demitria wasn’t sure when, or even how, but the smith had found the time to engrave delicate detailing into the edge of the blade. A mixture of florals and greenery. It was beautiful, and she quite often found herself regretting having to dirty it every single time.
Demitria hadn’t been waiting long when the smith noted her presence. With a slight nod, he motioned her over.
“I was just showing Jace my newest.” Evan held the blade out toward her, and she eyed it up carefully. Beautiful, but not like the one upon her hip. “Glad to see yours is still serving you well.” The smile lit up his harsh features. Having lost his entire family before his very eyes in the beginning, Evan had suffered more than anyone ever should. He hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it and was the only survivor, forced to live on when everything he’d ever cared about had been ripped from his grasp. He’d been bound and forced to watch by the sadistic creatures that ended their lives in a heartbeat. Demitria had only ever heard him talk about his family once when he’d first arrived after spending a night in the tavern, the wound still fresh in his mind. He had a wife and two little boys. Evan claimed that they hadn’t suffered. That it was over quickly for them all, and that was more than anyone could ask for. Maybe it was better that way. Better that the children didn’t have to grow up in a world where they lived in constant fear. Fear of the next attack. The next raid. Their world was no place for a child, not anymore.
“I take it with me everywhere.” Playing with the pommel of the sword, she returned the smile. That very weapon had saved her life more times than she could count.
“She does. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen her without it. She sleeps with it on her nightstand.” From beside the smith, Jace’s laughter filled the shop. It was infectious, and the smith was laughing along with him. Demitria hadn’t found it particularly funny. After everything they’d been through, she was well within her limits to be paranoid at night. Having the blade within arm’s reach was comforting in a way. Helped her sleep at night.
“It is a fine blade. One of my best. How does this one feel?” Evan tossed the newest in her direction, and it landed swiftly in her hands. She waved it around, testing it. Feeling the weight of it in her hands. It was heavier than hers, the blade a good six inches longer. Demitria already knew it would be deadly, but still, she preferred her own.
“I like this one.” She told him, “But mine feels more balanced. This one is too heavy for me.” She handed the weapon back to him.
“I figured you would say something like that.” He shrugged, placing it back down on the counter behind him. “Which is why it wasn’t meant for you. This however, was.” Hanging on a hook was a plain, brown leather sheath. Only the handle of the blade peeked out the top. Snagging it off the wall, Evan tossed it toward her and she caught it with ease. “I had you in mind when I made it.” Another smile spread across his face. Evan loved what he did. It was probably one of the few things that brought him true joy these days.
Unsheathing the weapon, her own lips tugged up into a smile at the sight of it. He’d designed a near identical blade to the sword, down to the intricate detailing, but in the form of a dagger. Where her sword’s detailing descended down the outer edge of the blade however, the one on the dagger ran along the middle, reaching to the pointed tip. Demitria turned it over in her fingers, admiring the beautiful work of art in her palms.
“Don’t encourage her with weapons.” Jace could only groan as he watched their interaction. But he knew her role. Had been the one to put her in the position of Guardian so many years ago, and as such, it was only logical for her to have weapons. “Can’t you just be repulsed by the fact that you have to use that?” His brows gathered and a pained expression crossed his face. Demitria knew he regretted it the moment the words had left his lips, but it stung regardless.
She was silent for only a moment. “Did you really just ask me that?” She would like nothing more than to be sickened by the fact that she had to kill something. But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t feel sorry for those monsters. Not when they’d taken everything from her. “You know exactly why I can’t sit back and do nothing.”
Jace just stood there, listening as she scolded him
“As our leader, you put yourself in danger every single day. I refuse to let you go out there alone and sit back and not do a thing when I know I can make a difference too.” Because every damn time he went beyond those walls without her, a piece of her ached. When he met with other community’s leaders without her there. She didn’t know whether any of them had good intentions or not, but as their leader, Jace took that chance time and time again. So, she did her part. She settled into her role as Guardian years ago and fought for those that couldn’t. Protected those that couldn’t.
“I know.” He sighed, the sound weighing heavy on her. She hated getting mad at him, but sometimes when he said stupid shit like this, it couldn’t be helped. “Everything looks great Evan, we’ll get out of your way.” She turned from Jace, eyes meeting Evan’s for a fleeting moment before Jace did the same.
Raising his hand in a quick wave, Jace’s free arm wrapped around her shoulders as he led her outside. They walked in silence for a few blocks. They passed by the small homes of the community, all lit up by candlelight ahead of the oncoming night sky. Jace nodded at the residents as they walked, not stopping to talk with anyone. A trait that was very unlike him, but she was grateful for it tonight.
“I’m sorry.” He finally broke, stopping in a secluded area. “You don’t have to keep going out there. To keep fighting. I don’t want you beyond the wall.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get why you do it, I do. I just—I hate watching you put yourself in danger to protect these people. I want you safe behind these walls where I know they can’t get to you as easily.”
“You know I can’t do that.” She whispered. “You know why.” Something in her voice cracked. It was barely audible, but she knew he’d catch it. He always did whenever those ironclad walls wavered as they threatened to break.
“Then you understand why I say the things that I do.” His arm slowly dropped from around her shoulders as he moved to face her. His hand gripped tight to the sleeve of the fitted dark shirt she wore as the other tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
“I do.” Before either of them could say anything stupid, he embraced her. Arms wrapping around her small frame as he held her body close. Demitria couldn’t help but unravel in the warmth of him.
Home.
Jace had been her home through it all. Her family.
“Every time you go out a little piece of me goes with you. Every time I even fathom that you’re out there, putting your life at risk when I’m not…” His grip tightened, fingers biting into her skin. Shielding her as if the longer he held on, the less chance he’d have of her going out those gates. She didn’t move away.
“You think it’s easy for me when you’re gone for days?” Her voice quiet, muffled from his chest, she didn’t break from him. “Not knowing if you survived the night, or got caught in a raid at another community?” The sigh left her lips and she didn’t try to stop it. “I hate it. I hate every second of it, but I do it. Because the thought of losing you to one of those… things .” Demitria saw them every time she closed her eyes. Remembered the feeling of the attack as she watched on helplessly.
It was early evening when they came. She remembered the sun's rays barely lighting the sky as it descended behind the mountains, casting the world around them in a magnificent red glow, one of the most beautiful sunsets she’d ever witnessed. It wasn’t until everything went dark that her parents knew something was wrong, and by then, it was too late. Her parents had shoved her small body inside a low wood cabinet in the living room. The slates in the doors were just big enough that she could see out. Jace was shoved in after her, the cabinet barely able to contain both of them as they watched silently while the monsters attacked. Darkness seeped into the house like an ominous mist, engulfing everything it touched. Demitria remembered her eyes when the creature came upon her mother. Seeking her daughter’s as she begged her to stay. To not make a sound. Her blood pooled underneath her mother’s body, staining the thick carpet. Eyes dull. Lifeless. Demitria’s mother didn’t scream once as the monster ate her alive. As it killed her. Demitria knew she’d done it for her. Back then, she hadn’t known what they were when they’d first come, only that they were something from her nightmares. Demons, she’d found out shortly after.
“ You’re going to be ok.” Her mother’s lips whispered without making a sound. She was in pain, but her mother remained silent to make it easier on her. So she wouldn’t have to remember the screams.
When it was finished with her mother, its eyes found hers. Crimson. They were raging pools of death. They haunted her. Taunting her with their power. The demon slowly crawled its way toward the cabinet but stopped short. It was her father that screamed, she remembered that too. The wail that escaped him at the sight of his wife lifeless on the floor still echoed in her ears. It turned into horrific shrieks as the creature tore into him, too. Jace’s own father was there with them, right behind her dad. But she closed her eyes then, unable to watch her only remaining parent die at the hands of this creature.
Demitria couldn’t save her mother. She couldn’t save any of them, and it haunted her every single day. She was right there. Mere feet away as her family took their last breaths as they tried to shield her from the horrors that befell them. Her mother’s outstretched hand reached for her daughter one last time, her sleeve forever stained with her blood, her father’s blood…
The demon was almost upon them when something caught its attention, the shadowy figure receding on unnaturally fast legs as it disappeared from the room. Jace had pulled them from the cabinet then. Through the carnage in her home and out the backdoor as they ran away from the screams of terror that echoed through their little town. He’d mentioned only once since that he’d seen his mother’s lifeless body in the yard, but he kept running. Dragging her away from the pain that coursed through her.
With a shuddering breath, Demitria blinked the haunting memories away. She didn’t deserve Jace. Didn’t deserve anyone for that matter. Since the attack, she’d struggled letting anyone in. She couldn’t hurt if she didn’t love. Love had proved to bring the highest form of pain. Jace had been her one exception. Her rock time and time again. The one soul she could lean on, no matter what happened around them. He was there when she hadn’t been able to muster the strength to help. When she couldn’t move a muscle and watched it tear both their families away from them. She could have done something. Should have done something, anything, to stop the attack from happening. The guilt ate at her every waking moment. Like an infectious wound that refused to heal.
When her shaking body finally stopped, Demitria stepped into Jace. Fingers clenched into the fabric of his shirt as she took a step closer to him. Breathing him in. Needing the comfort until the memory finally stopped repeating itself.
“I can’t even begin to comprehend the thought of losing you.”
“Maybe I’m selfish,” He whispered, nestling his head into her dark hair. She felt his long intake of breath before he continued. “but you’re the only one that matters to me here.”
“I guess that makes two of us.”