Jakri

Diablo Fan Fiction.

I

“Jakri!”

She mumbled in her sleep and tossed over to her other side. The shout was much louder now, and nearer.

“Jakri!”

It nearly dragged her out of her sleep but she fell into it once more.

“Jakri! For heaven’s sake, wake up girl!” An ungentle hand shook her hard and Jakri finally managed one eye open.

“What?“ she mumbled, ready to be pulled deeper down in sleep.

“The cow hasn’t been milked, the eggs are waiting for you to gather them in and you are still sleeping? When can I begin to trust you with such simple tasks when you always sleep this long?”

“Oh no,” she groaned. “What time is it?”

“Too late! Get your a*s of that bed now, no breakfast until your chores have been done.”

Jakri reluctantly got up from the warm bed and shivered as her naked foot touched the floor.

“It’s freezing,” she complained to her father’s back.

“Well, if you’d woken up earlier, I could have made a fire blazing high by now. Tend to Rosa now will ya?”

Shivering, Jakri slunk into her boots and her father’s wolf-brimmed jacket. The cold hit her hard when she ventured outside and she ran the few meters to the barn. Rosa mooed impatiently at her when she entered and the hens cackled reproachfully at her. The cow heaved a great sigh when the milk hit the bucket. She gave less and less for every day and Jakri found that the hens had laid only four eggs. Gaston, their roaster, crowed just as she left the barn.

“Good. Let’s have some breakfast now before you go to Maryn.”

They ate quietly and thoughtfully. When Jakri was about to leave, her father gave her the eggs.

“Give these to Maryn and tell her I need some more of her potion. The old wound is killing me.”

“She would give it to you for free, father.”

“Mikel Auberon doesn’t take charity from anyone!”

“I didn’t say you should, either. I just...”

“You are going to be late if you don’t run”, he warned her before he lumbered into the house again.

 

Jakri ran through the woods. Her father’s farm wasn’t far from Pepperdyne, the village, but the forest and the river made it seem longer. There were only a couple of houses around the town square. Maryn’s were in the middle, a rackety hovel which always seemed to be almost falling down but supported by the houses standing at its sides, it never did. Maryn didn’t look a thing like her house. She was a beautiful woman in her early forties and it surprised the whole town when she had returned from the Sisters just a couple of years before. Jakri had been with her father then, selling what little they got from the hens and their small cropland. There were many who wanted to greet Maryn and maybe get something juicy to gossip about, but she had immediately gone to their stall. While she haggled with Mikel about the eggs her eyes kept smiling at Jakri. Mikel refused to sell them to her for the prize she wanted him to have. She insisted until he gave up, then she asked if she could hire Jakri to take care of her garden. Jakri wished of all her heart her father would say yes. He hesitated for a long time but was defeated by Jakri’s pleading eyes and Maryn’s smile.

“Fine,” he had sighed at last.

Months passed as Jakri worked for Maryn and learnt about herbs, animals and diseases. People used to visit Maryn and pay for her advice or potions with what little they had.

 

II

Jakri reached Maryn’s house short of breath. She took a few deep breaths before she knocked gently on the door. It squeaked and protested when Maryn pushed it open.

“I should really get it fixed,” she sighed. “Please come in!”

Jakri squinted at the dusk inside and Maryn hurried to light some candles.

“I overslept. These short days sucks the life out of me. I would prefer to be as the bear and sleep all winter. How’s your father?”

“Worse, I think. He doesn’t complain but your potions seem to work less and less.”

Maryn started rummaging around her dried herbs.

“Not work, you say? Are you sure it’s not a magical wound? A normal wound would have healed by now.”

“I don’t know. He never speaks of it.”

“Being Mr. Stubborn, hmm? I better accompany you home and examine him myself.”

“Thank you! Oh, I forgot,” Jakri fumbled around a bit in her coat.”Here, dad wanted you to have these.”

“Oh, breakfast! And lunch, it seems,” Maryn peered at her grandfather clock.

Jakri’s stomach rumbled at the thought.

“Good, you are hungry too. Let me make an omelette and you can clean this mess up in the meantime.”

While Maryn cooked, Jakri put the books back in the bookshelves, brushed the floor and cleaned the table from mysterious liquids. The omelette was perfect and they ate quickly before it cooled.

“Now, what should we do today? I have enough potions for the common cold, Mrs. Briskely is not due for another couple of weeks and there are no more herbs to prepare.  That leaves your father and that strange wound of his. We are going to need this,” Maryn jumped up and fetched her bag. “And this and that. Help me with that willya?”

After rummaging through her whole supply with herbs, mushrooms and other ingredients, they left her house.

It had been a beautiful sunny morning but sinister clouds filled the sky in the west. The two women hurried through the woods and talked little until they reached the farm.

“Dad” Jakri called when they entered the house. “Maryn have come to see you. Dad?”

“In the kitchen Jakri.” The pain in her father’s voice scared Jakri and she ran into the kitchen. Her father lay flat on the floor and breathed heavily. Maryn kneeled beside him and examined him thoroughly.

“Jakri, boil some water, get me some old sheets and sharpen one of your knives. Now!” She didn’t have to raise her voice, the sharp tone made Jakri come to life and obediently follow her orders.

“Get me something he can bit into, I haven’t time to drug him. You old fool, why didn’t you call for me earlier?”

Jakri gave her father a piece of wood to bite into.

“None of your business,” Mikel spat through the piece of wood.

“It is now. Jakri, I need you to hold him down. Put the water near me and the cloth on my other side.”

Maryn opened up the man’s shirt. A long scar ran from his armpit down to his navel. It seemed to have healed unevenly.

“Jakri, hold him as still as you can. This will hurt,” Maryn warned Mikel.

“Do it quickly, then.”

With just one move, Maryn sliced the scar open. He screamed and Jakri had a hard time holding him down. The woman put her hand hastily into the pot and then into the wound. It seemed to Jakri it took forever, each move making her father gasp in pain and struggle to get up. Tears dripped down her face as she wished it to end. At last, Maryn seemed to find something and she pulled her hand slowly out of the wound. In her hand she held something black and foul.

“Jakri, you can let go of him now. Boil me some more water and put these ingredients in.”

While tending to the wound, Maryn scolded Mikel.

“Mikel Auberon, how have you managed to have this -” she showed him the claw, “in your body this whole time? And how did it get there in the first place?”

“An attack about a year ago. I was guarding a merchant convoy near Tristram and that beast sliced my side open as I hit it over the head. So its claw got caught in me? Damn that blunderhead of a surgeon! If he hadn’t...”

“What my father means to say is: ‘Thank you for saving my life’,” interrupted Jakri.

“Yes, thank you but didya have to rummage around in me like I was some sort of candy jar?” muttered Mikel.

“All of it is not out. There are still small pieces of the claw inside you and the evil has been allowed to grow for too long. With the right treatment, though, all of it will eventually clear. Now, you mustn’t get out of bed. I’ll leave some herbs and a potion for you. Jakri knows what to do but I’ll come visit you every other day to make sure the wound heals as it should.”

“That is not necessarily,” protested Mikel.

“It is necessarily!” snapped Maryn.

“Dad, listen to her”, pleaded Jakri.

“I know you don’t want any charity so it isn’t. I need a new door for my house and that’s all I want as payment.”

“Well, fine then,” sighed Mikel.

“Help me get your father to the couch. It would probably be best if you could sleep next to him. He’s gonna need a lot of help the first couple of days and you must make sure the stitches won’t tear. Now I think I’ll need a cup of tea or two, use this much of that herb for your father and lots of sugar.”

 

III

It took a couple of weeks, with a bit of a fever coming and going, but her father was getting better.  Maryn, however, seemed pessimistic.

“I’d like to know what kind of creature wounded you and left that claw inside you,” said Maryn.

“I have never seen anything like it before, and I hope I never will again. It looked like a red salamander, only bigger and with four claws on each hand.”

“You were lucky to escape such a monster with that wound only. I’m afraid I can’t do more; we can only hope the evil doesn’t spread.”

“What? I thought you got it all out of me,” said Mikel.

“There’s always the risk that the beast poisoned you. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”

“Then thank you for telling me. Wouldn’t it have been better if you hadn’t said anything?” asked Mikel sarcastically.

“Perhaps. Now, get up. You have been lying here too long, I need that door.”

Grunting and groaning, Mikel got up from the couch.

“I’ve found the right wood for my door and all you have to do now is craft it.”

Jakri anxiously watched as her father walked unsteadily to his work shed and started working. It took a couple of days but soon he was more active than ever before.

 

IV

The day was sunny and vowed for a dry summer a when the door was at last finished. Mikel had borrowed a wagon from one of their neighbours and drove it slowly to town. Jakri sat beside him on the coach box, deep in thoughts.

 

Jakri and Maryn watched Mikel replace the door and chit-chatted about nothing in particular.

When her father was almost done, Jakri felt the hair in her neck stand on end. She looked wildly around, trying to find what made her uneasy. A man in a long, black coat was slowly approaching them from the west. Behind him scuttled a skinny old man with a nervous look about him. The stranger sent shivers down Jakri’s spine and the sunny day suddenly felt cold.

“Mikel, get inside and take Jakri with you,” Maryn ordered suddenly.

 “But...”

“Whatever happens, stay inside. Get in, now!”

Mikel was about to snap at Maryn but as he saw her expression, he changed his mind and ushered Jakri into the house and locked the door. The two of them peered out the window and could only make out the figures. The stranger was taller than Maryn but she stayed strong.

“Go away. I feel the evil radiate from you and we don’t need your kind here.”

The man laughed mirthlessly.

“Step aside, let me through and I won’t bother your little village long. There is one I am looking for, he belongs to me.”

“No!” she shouted.

Jakri saw something or someone emerging from the ground. A hideous monster lounged itself after Maryn but she stood strong. A lightning bolt struck down and made Jakri blind for a moment. When she could see again, Maryn was lying on the ground with the stranger standing above her emotionless. Without thinking, Jakri unlocked the door and darted outside.

“Jakri, no!” she heard her father scream. Jakri reached Maryn and ignored the stranger who had started walking again.

“Don’t let him... don’t let him...” Maryn gasped.

“I won’t let him do anything to you,” Jakri said.

“Not me... him... Don’t let him... your father...”

Jakri turned and saw the man enter the house. A scream, as in pain, was heard but it did not sound human.

“Dad!”

She ran back in and saw her father transform while the man watched him. From his hand long claws grew and his skin seemed to become leathern. Jakri threw herself at the man, hands viciously flailing at him.

“Stop! Let him be!”

The man ignored her. Jakri hit him in his face as hard as she could, blood gushing from his wounded nose. The stranger’s stare made her feel like a worthless insect just buzzing around a larger creature. Scared, Jakri ran to her father who seemed to fight against the transformation.

“Father,” she pleaded. “Get up! We must get you away from him.”

She nearly had to drag him out of the house, the stranger doing nothing to stop her.

The horse seemed unmoved by the changing Mikel but snorted fearfully when Jakri tried to get Maryn on the wagon. She jumped on to the coach box and flicked the reins which made the horse break into a gallop. The man watched them leave from the doorway with a strange smile on his lips. As Jakri looked back she saw the stranger had turned to continue his journey eastwards. The old man followed close behind him, as if he had no choice. The village was on fire with an unnatural infernal blaze.

 

V

The river stopped the fire before it could devour her father’s small farm but Jakri had other problems. Her father threw himself off the wagon before she had a chance to stop it and fell badly. Mikel managed to crawl up but his spine had changed too much. He had to support himself with his hands and Jakri noticed only three claws on one of them and four on the other.

“Jakri, don’t follow me! I am losing, the demon is taking over. I don’t... Stay away from me!”

He crashed into the forest, trying to control his body as it changed with every passing moment. Jakri jumped off the coachbox and was about to follow her father.

“Jakri... let him go. You... can’t do anything for him now... Please...” Maryn lost consciousness again and a whimper from her made Jakri realize how big her burden had become just in the last minutes. She hastily wiped away the tears that clouded her vision and gently dragged Maryn off the wagon and into the house. Something moved outside the window but Jakri ignored it for now. She brewed hot, sweet tea for Maryn and herself and managed to get some of it down Maryn’s throat. Maryn started to snore after a while and Jakri understood that she could do nothing before Maryn had caught her strength.  Again, she heard something move outside and there was muffled chattering.  Carefully so she would not be seen, Jakri peered through the window. A group of small, red-skinned demons wearing just a loincloth and armed to their sharp teeth stood outside the window and seemed to argue with their leader. Jakri felt as if an ice cold finger had touched her and moved down her spine. She feared the worst. The leader of the red-skinned demons was a bit taller than the rest of them and carried a long staff with feathers and pearls hanging from its top. The group was agitated and somehow they could feel Jakri staring at them. They all turned towards her and screamed something before one of them ran up to the window and smashed it with his cudgel. Jakri screamed and woke Maryn.

“Wha-what? What is happening? And where are your father?” she asked bewildered.

“No time! Get up there!” shouted Jakri and helped her over to the ladder.

“Stay there, I’ll have to distract them.” She sounded more confident than she felt but Maryn just nodded before she climbed up to the loft. There was no room for her on the loft. Jakri had to hide in one of the closets and she backed as far in the closet as she could. The first of the red-skinned men entered the kitchen and sniffed the air. The rest of the group including their leader entered the kitchen and the leader snarled something. The red-skinned ones began to search through the kitchen. There was a loud racket as everything in the lockers and cupboards was dragged out and thrown on the kitchen floor. One of them opened the closet where Jakri hid and she screamed. Her finder grinned and showed her all his sharp teeth when he dragged her out of the closet. She fell helplessly to the floor. The leader walked towards her and Jakri knew she would die, then and now. Someone yelled: “For Tyrael!” and attacked the group who scattered in panic. Jakri felt one stumble on her and fall to the floor. She kicked it instinctively as hard as she could before it got up again and its shriek of pain turned to a gurgle as her saviour hacked its head off. Another one’s death cry rang in her head and she felt someone or something land on the floor next to her. As she opened her eyes, a demon’s head lay so close to her she could see every hair on its face. Jakri got up as fast as she could and threw up. Her rescuer was leaning against the wall, cleaning his sword. Maryn called from above:

“Jakri! Are you alright? What happened down there?”

“I-I’m fine Maryn. I think you can come down now, they’re all gone.”

Maryn climbed slowly down and gratefully supported herself on Jakri’s shoulder. She took a long look at the massacred bodies before the adventurer caught her eyes.

“I believe we have you to thank for our lives. Jakri might be brave but I don’t think she would meet that many attackers without getting killed. What is your name?”

The man sheeted his blade and took off his helmet before he answered Maryn. He had a hard, unsympathetic face with scars after pockmarks.

“Kiyan, and what might yours be?”

“I’m Maryn and this is Jakri. What brings you to our farm?”

“I was looking for somewhere to rest before I continue my chase after the Dark Wanderer. When I saw the village ablaze I looked for another place and saw the demons enter your house. Fearing they might burn down the last acceptable shelter within miles, I attacked them.”

“We don’t have much, but we’ll share what we have with you. If you could help Jakri and get rid of the bodies I will make something for us to eat.”

With joint efforts, Jakri and Kiyan managed to dispose of all the demons outside. They burned the bodies and when the embers had nearly died out, the meal was finished. Maryn had boiled several cauldrons with a special mixture of herbs and the blood on the floors and walls had nearly vanished. Even so, the three of them ate outside, far away from the nauseatingly foul stench coming from the dead fire.

“You can take my father’s room and Maryn can sleep on the loft. The couch would be enough for me. I can’t thank you enough for rescuing us,” said Jakri shyly. There was something about the man that made her uneasy.

“I’ll be gone early in the morning. Can’t let the track cool or I’ll never find him.”

Maryn insisted that he took most of their supplies and gave Jakri a sharp glance when she tried to protest. He was gone the next morning, just like he had said.

 

VI

“What happened to your father, Jakri?” asked Maryn the next morning when they was loading the wagon with her father’s chest and what little else of value the house contained. The cow was already tied to the back and the hens cackled annoyed in their cages.

“He disappeared into the woods and told me not to follow him. The transformation... he couldn’t fight it... But there was something wrong with his hands. He only had three claws on one hand and four on the other.”

“Where did you put the claw I pulled out of him?”

“Here.”

“Keep it for now. I would rather not touch it again before we reach the rogue encampment.”

“Are we going to a rogue encampment? Why?”

“I know a wise woman there named Akara who I think can help us. Don’t be worried; with all the demons roaming the forests, no one will bother to rob us.” Maryn chuckled when she saw the look in Jakri’s face.

They left the farm. Jakri glanced back at it at and thought she saw a glimpse of her father, standing in the doorway. She shook her head and looked again but could see nothing.

 

The way to the rogue encampment was long. It took them several days before they finally entered the palisade. Maryn and Jakri were greeted with suspiciousness from the guards at the gate but when Akara had greeted them welcome and hugged Maryn as a long lost sister the camp relaxed.

“What brings you here, sister?“ said Akara.

“I have something I need to tell you, about a stranger and the girl’s father.”

Maryn and Jakri told Akara about the stranger and his companion from the west. They told her about Maryn’s attack on the conjured demon, about the stranger claiming Jakri’s father and the transformation of Mikel. Jakri showed her the claw Maryn had pulled out of her father and gave it to her. Akara examined it thoroughly while Jakri told her about the escape and her father fleeing from her. Tears dripped from Jakri’s cheeks when she described his transformation and his last words to her. Akara listened thoughtfully and asked many questions about the attackers; the red-skinned men and their leader. She seemed pleased to hear about Kiyan and his help but frowned when she heard about his fast departure.

”These are dark and difficult times. Deckard Cain, the last of the Horadrim, has told me that this wanderer is none other than Diablo himself. He is without a doubt the same stranger whom you encountered.” Maryn gasped when Akara said his name and Akara nodded sternly. “Yes. Diablo is once again free. I may be able to help but you must leave me now. I need to ponder what you have told me. Sister!” Akara waved at one of the sisters. ”Please give these two something to eat and show them to one of the tents afterwards.”

The meal was simple, just some bread and a cup of milk. Jakri took care of the cow and hens before she crawled into the tent she and Maryn had been assigned. Maryn snored already but it took many hours of twitching and turning before Jakri realized she would never get any sleep. Restlessly she got up and walked through the camp. Akara was still up, examining one of her books and mumbling to herself. She looked like she had found something interesting and didn’t seem to notice Jakri. Akara got up and placed the book on the chair she was sitting on before she rummaged around in her chest. She picked one small bag from the chest and pulled out the claw from her pocket. Muttering and staggering she walked around the fire two times before she stopped and threw the bag and the claw into the fire. The fire roared and blazed higher than before. Once again, Akara walked around the fire but more steadily now, concentrating on her task. Jakri nearly screamed when she saw the old woman reach into the bellowing fire. She ran up towards the fire but saw Akara pull her hand from it untouched. She held the claw in her hand, once black and foul, now sparkling white and with a haft. Akara walked slowly up to Jakri.

“Find your father and use this knife to untie him from the Dark Wanderer’s grip. Take this -” she gave Jakri a small bag with supplies,”and the knife. Maryn will help you, I’m sure. Get some rest now,” she said after Jakri had reluctantly taken the knife. Akara touched Jakri lightly and she fell asleep immediately.

 

VII

She knew exactly where her father would be. Jakri told Maryn about her father’s meat shed while they tended to the horse. Not too far from the farm was a shallow cave where her father stored meat during the summer. He had built a small shed around it and reinforced it many times with stones and mortar to keep the bears, wolves and other carnivores away from the meat. The winter had been long and the shed should be almost empty by now. Maryn and Akara hugged and said their goodbyes while Jakri impatiently sat on the coachbox. The cow and the hens were left at the encampment and Akara assured Jakri they would take great care of them.

 

As the wagon was dragged through the forest Jakri and Maryn discovered that the forest was filled with demons but they managed to keep out of their way most of the time. Maryn only had to defend them once. It was just a small group of demons which she managed to scare off with a loud spell that made Jakri’s ears ring. After that frightful event, Maryn decided it would be best if they continued travel by foot. The wagon was put at the side of the road and the horse was let loose.

 

They hadn’t had time to make a sheath for the knife and Jakri shuddered every time her finger touched the blade. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling but whatever Akara had done to the claw had clearly put some kind of protection over it. They slept in bushes and rationed the bread and the dried fruits they had gotten from the rogue encampment. On the fourth night they reached the farm at last. Feeling exhausted and knowing that there might be some herbs left for just a kettle of tea, Jakri and Maryn dragged themselves inside. The very next morning, they got up early and drank the cold remaining of tea before they left for the cave. Jakri knew the path well but had to take detours around patrolling demons, red-skinned as the ones who had attacked them earlier. The demons avoided the farm, maybe because of the smell that still lingered after the bonfire of their fellow ones.

The door to the small shed stood wide open. Jakri crawled to it through bushes and vegetation and peered into the dusk. It took a while before her eyes adjusted to the darkness but she was able to see that this had indeed been where Mikel sought shelter but the small cave was empty now. Maryn moved slowly into the shed and looked at the marks after Mikel’s claws.

“Jakri, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it’s a very dangerous task Akara gave you. It does not seem right that just a child...

“I’m old enough to know that he is my father and he is not gone yet! I won’t give up on him!”

They argued about this for a while but Jakri’s stubborn face made Maryn realise at last that she had no say in this. They both tried to make it comfortable for them in the shed but the rock wall was craggy and Mikel hadn’t bothered to polish the rough tree. Somehow they both managed to fall asleep.

 

Her body ached and Jakri felt as if many days had passed when she after several hours heard someone approaching the shed. Not knowing if it would be her father or a demon she would face, she hid beside the door. Maryn was still snoring in one of the corners and Jakri decided not to wake her. It was her responsibility to try to help her father. Jakri’s whole body shook and she felt sweat drip down her brow. The knife’s handle was slippery and Jakri had to hold it with both hands to make it stop shaking. The one outside hesitated and she readied herself, took deep breaths and closed her eyes for a moment. The creature opened the door and lumbered in. Jakri used the element of surprise and stabbed it. She felt the blade sink deep into its side. The creature yelled and slashed at her. Its claws sunk into her stomach and Jakri let go of the knife. She slid down the wall and tried to cover her wound with her hands. The monster who had once been her father seemed at first unharmed by the knife. It grasped after the handle and tried to yank the claw knife out. The handle came off with the blade still inside him, Mikel roared. With dim eyes Jakri watched the monster change back into her father. He writhed in pain on the floor before he became still and a long gasp was heard when he tried to suck in all the air in the shed. Jakri wished now she hadn’t eaten that piece of dried beef, her father was going to need all his strength to get to the rogue encampment. She felt so tired; the pain in her stomach made her want to sleep it away and perhaps never wake up again. Jakri shut her eyes and ignored her father begging her to talk to him, to look at him. Without opening her eyes Jakri saw her father cry at Maryn’s shoulder. Then she let go of this world.