Chapter 1
When the sky goes black, and there’s no more sun
Hide your babies, turn and run
When the lightning strikes, and the thunder roars
Close your windows, lock your doors
They’re coming through the floor
They’re coming through the roof
They want your children…
: Fragment of a popular nursery rhyme believed to have been written 125 years after the year without the sun
*
The Ebonu is best described as a rat worm.
*
My name is Asor Poen, and ever since I can remember, I wanted to join the Imperial Guard and hunt demons. I studied the ancient texts and learned everything I could about their appearance. Bald and hairless, with pale almost translucent skin, the demons have small black eyes and long slender fingers that end in red, hook-like claws.
The few texts that exist refer to them as the Idwe.
I’ve gone to every mass execution of the Idwe since I was 10 years old. They never fight. They never cry or beg or try to run. They kneel in the dirt and sing strange, tuneless songs to their sky god while they wait for the blade.
No one knows the origin of the word Idwe. We call them demons. It’s a word we hear every day in the hourly broadcasts.
“Stay on the lookout for demons! Watch out for the demons!”
I am only 17 years old. In one year, I can ask to become an Imperial Guard.
But my young age didn’t stop me from the hunt. I would prove myself worthy in the never-ending fight to protect the Citadel against the demon hordes.
Every night I’d sneak out of my room, grab the iron pipe hidden in the alley behind the house, and patrol the streets. Most nights it was me against the rats. They were good practice.
Citadel rats are heavy black beasts with red crusted teeth and yellow eyes. One good swing and I’d send them flying into the swirling, shit-water gutters. Then I’d continue my march down the middle of the empty cobblestone streets.
I’d never encountered a demon in the dark. It was the wine that made me fearless and reckless. I sang at the top of my lungs. Was it out of fear? I have to be honest, Don’t I? I admit now that I was scared.
Everyone said I had a beautiful voice. They were liars.
“Demons, demons, demons, out! Out you demons! Run you demons! Run and hide! Scream and shout! We’re coming to kill you, there is no doubt!”
That night I swung the iron pipe down on a curbside table and evenly split the rotten, soggy wood down the middle from side to side. Dozens of clicking Ebonu shot out from under the table and disappeared into the street. They slithered down the drains. Feral dogs chased down the slower ones and gobbled them up.
I was a hero. My victory was complete.
“Fly demons! Fly! Cause you’re gonna die!”
