Jax, the Demon

Chapter 1, Jax the Demon

            James Marcus wiped the sweat from his forehead. The autumn air was nice and cool, but the work was still bringing moisture from his pores. James was a handsome slave, owned by the wealthiest man in town, Jason Nelson.  James had short brown hair and an eye color that was a glowing sort of blue. James was at the age between adult and child, twenty-two.  His twenty-third birthday was still half a year away, but it did not matter much if a slave became an adult or not. The children still had the same amount of work as the adult slaves on Nelson’s farms. Many of the salves hated working for Nelson, but James did not mind it at all.
            He was raised here in the orchards of his master and had lived to respect the man who owned him like property. James never got into trouble with his master, and he was well liked by the other slaves. James took on the defeatist attitude of they were never going to escape slavery so why dream about getting free. Besides, James did not really mind the work. He received food and a place to sleep each night which was more than some people had.
There were also certain characteristics of James that made the other slaves respect him. James was very charismatic and intelligent. James was intelligent thanks to Jason’s young daughter, Maria Nelson. Maria was a beauty, her eyes like emeralds and hair like veins of gold within the brown clay. She had taught James everything he knew up to the point when she became a woman and he became twenty-two and they were not allowed to visit each other anymore.
            James stealthily picked an apple and stashed it into an inside pocket of his self-made tunic.  He usually did not steal the apples he was picking for the punishment for thieving was death, but James always knew when he could and when he could not get away with the thieving.  The apple would come in handy later that night when he was alone in his bed. James was part of the management staff, organized by the slaves for the older and the wiser slaves in the orchards and on the farms, who all got their own rooms.  James was the youngest manager within the slave family on Nelson’s farms. He happened to be the only one under the age of fifty.
            James was just finishing up with one tree and about to descend his ladder when he caught glimpse of someone walking through the shade of the apple trees. Strangers were not allowed in the orchards, and it was dangerous to upset the richest man in town. James climbed halfway down the ladder he was on and jumped the rest of the way to the ground. The man was followed by a horse that was a dirty white color and had a large black spot on its left eye. The man had on his head a straw hat that was bent low in order to keep the sun from his eyes. The shadow of the hat shielded his face from James’s gaze.
           The stranger stopped walking and looked up into James’s face. The first time the man looked at James, his image was etched into James’s mind for eternity. The stranger had a face that looked like it was crafted from marble of the whitest color. His hair was shaggy, unkempt, and a reddish brown color. On the left eye the man had a scar that ran straight down through the eye from the forehead. Over the scar was a tattoo which was a plain black line. At the top of the line was the infinity sign and on the bottom were two parallel lines that ran through the scar line.  The man’s eyes were red, a blood red color that haunted James with their vision.
            The man’s body was clothed in a large black tunic that appeared to have once belonged to a muscular man for it was quite large. The man did not fit into the oversized tunic very well, however. The man’s arms were bare of muscles, the skin clinging tightly to the bones beneath showed the arms that were like sticks. The whole of his body was like this, skin pulled over the bones so tightly, as if no muscle was attached to the man. He had on a belt that was made for a child, tightened all the way to hold up the incredibly tight pants that he wore, which seemed to have once been on a tall man with very large legs. The autumn wind blew the clothes of the man and James was worried the light wind would be enough to blow the man away.
            The thing that caught James’s glance the longest though was the weapon the man dragged behind him. On the man’s left side was a sheathed sword that was at least seven feet. With the length of the man’s arms, James could not figure out how the man drew his sword, but did not care to find out. The sheath was black just like the man’s clothing, but the handle was red, just like the man’s eyes.
            “Excuse me sir,” the James said, “this is property of Jason Nelson and is off limits to citizens.”
            “What is your name boy?” the man said, peering into James’s eyes. A strange since of trust washed over James.
            “My name is James Marcus.”
            “Are you a slave here?” asked the man.
            “Yes,” James answered simply.
            “How long?”
            “How long have I worked here?” James asked and the man nodded. “I have worked here as long as I have been alive, sir, forty-five half years. “
            “You have been enslaved here for twenty-two years?” the man asked.
            “And a half, yes.”
            “Do you like it here?” asked the man.
            “I do not mind it. I could be in worse places and in worse care or worse health.”
            “You could also have your freedom,” suggested the man.
            “It’s a foolish waste of time, dreaming about my freedom. I am a slave and nothing can save me from that fate. My parents sold me to master Nelson as soon as I was born so they could afford a house and land. A slave raised by a master can become nothing else.”
            “You are a very educated young man, aren’t you,” said the stranger.
            “I learned all I know from my master’s young daughter, Maria. She is a well articulated miss.”  
            “I could really use a traveling companion like you.”
            “I am sorry sir, but that is out of the question. And I advise you to get off the property. If Master Nelson discovers you in the orchards he will release the hounds to kill you.”
            “I do not think we will have to worry about dogs.”
            “They run fast,” James said simply.
            “They run fast?” the man repeated as a question, “That’s all you have to say to describe them? I’m not too afraid of them running fast.”
            “They are vicious and they run fast. They will track you down in a manner of seconds and tear you limb from limb.”
            “That’s a bit more descriptive, but I’m still not worried. Anyways I must be going anyways. Do you happen to know the way to Oshlam? I am looking for someone that is supposed to be in Oshlam.” James pointed the direction that the man came from. “That’s a shame,” the man said, “I just came from that town and I didn’t find anyone there that fits the description.”
            “What was the description? Perhaps I know him,” James asked.
            “If you’re a slave, why would you know someone from town?” the man asked, “Anyways, all I know is that it was someone who was in need of, but didn’t want, help. A bright child who would be a great companion to me on my long adventure.”
            “Sorry, but that isn’t much of a description sir. I don’t know anyone like that.”
            “Although, I think I found who I was looking for here in the orchard,” the man said with a grin. The grin inspired James with a sense of confidence and determination to trust this man with his life, even though he had just met him. “What do you say, boy?” asked the man, “You willing to follow me?”
            “I’m sorry sir, I can’t leave this orchard.”
            “Why not?” the man asked, “I can grant you your freedom from your master. No fear from him or the hounds he has under slavery as well.”
    “Your promises do not entice me for I know the extent of my master and of his wealth and of the hounds that will most likely be after you soon.”
    “Still on about those hounds?” asked the man, bowing his head in frustration, “What do I have to do to prove they are little relevance to your escape?” The man slowly walked over to a tree that was full of ripe, delicious red apples. He placed one hand on the tree and without the slightest effort, he pushed and the tree started to uproot. James could not decide the emotion he wanted. Fear, shock, anger, or despair for the apple tree that was being ripped from the soil by the man. James wanted to shout at the man to stop, but it was too late. The man had destroyed the tree with the slightest of effort.
    The apple tree fell away from the man and crashed into some slaves working atop a neighboring tree. The slaves fell to the ground, crushed by the tree, but alive enough to shout at the man. A slave witnessing the destruction ran to inform the master while the others attempted to free the trapped workers. The man walked over to the tree and all the slaves backed away from him. Once again, without breaking a sweat, the man lifted the trunk of the apple tree off the trapped slaves with one hand. He tossed it aside and went to stand in front of James.
    “I will be going now, but you need to make a decision, and quickly,” the man said to James, “you can decide to join me, or stay here and be a slave forever. Trust me though when I say that tree was harder to uproot than killing a few vicious animals.” the man passed James and began walking away the way he came from, the horse following behind him. James headed over to the slaves who had been crushed by the tree. They both had scrapings on their legs and abdomens, but were mostly unharmed. James helped the men back to the slaves house just as the master entered.
    James and the rest of the slaves left as the master interrogated the slaves about what happened to them. James went back to the orchard and retrieved the apple from his tunic. He bit into it and stared at the setting sun. The man was directly ahead of him, walking slowly back to town. James was still considering the possibility of hunting down the man and joining him. He was worried about his master, but after seeing the stranger knock down a fully grown apple tree, he knew he would be safe enough. James finished the apple and looked back at the big blue house that had housed the owner of his life. Next to it was the long, but small brown slave house.
    James turned his head back to the setting sun and threw his apple, half eaten, to the ground. He took off at a run, chasing down the man who offered to take him with him. He heard the metal noise and the howling of the hounds and knew that they would get to him before he got to the man. James looked backwards as he ran and saw the three large dogs coming after him, black with eyes full of hatred and morbid thoughts of murder. James did not see the man as he ran right into his legs. James was surprised at how sturdy the man was considering how skinny he was, but then he remembered the way he uprooted the tree even though it appeared he had no muscles.
    James stood up and looked at the hounds who had stopped to stare down their prey. The stranger removed the straw hat and three it to the ground. He stared at the hounds, matching their intense gaze. The mad look in the dogs’ eyes disappeared instantly, replaced first by surprise, and then by fear. The three hounds quickly turned away from the man and ran back to their master upon the hill in the big blue house.
    “How did you do that,” James started, but the strangers name was a msytery to him so he ended with a sir.
    “The more savage the beast is, the more cowardly it is when faced with a greater force,” the man said, looking down at the boy in front of him, “I’m glad you reconsidered my offer. My name is Jax. No last name. What did you say yours was again?”
    “James Marcus.”
    “Very well James, let us head towards Oshlam. We can stop in for a drink, then some sleep and we can continue our journey, or in your case, begin it.”
    “Where is the next stop in our journey?” James asked as the two of them crossed the boundaries of Nelson’s property. The point of no return for James; a place that many slaves back at home had dreamed of their whole lives.
    “I was told to first go to Oshlam then to Haditis, and finally to Rohlta,” Jax said. The names of the towns were known by James, but the locations or size of the towns were a mystery. James was curious to see what they were like. Jax stopped walking when he reached the local inn of Oshlam. He directed his attention to the horse and demanded that it stay in front of the inn and wait for him. James slightly laughed at this. A horse couldn’t understand human language, but the horse nodded its head in understanding.
    James was about to enter the inn when he saw a wall that was filled with pictures next to the door. The pictures were of people, the word “wanted” above each picture and below a price and description of the person. The people all looked scary and dangerous, but one caught the attention of James. Below, where the price was on the others, the words “Anything and all things” and below that was the name and description of this man:
    Jaxson Vascilo, the Demon of Julsis. Wanted for the murder of over a thousand people in all towns in control of King Brachus III along with several towns and cities out of Kind Brachus III’s control. Jaxson Vascilo, the Demon of Julsis is extremely dangerous, able to kill dozens of men without growing tired. Extreme caution is to be taken when dealing with the Demon of Julsis. May be accompanied by a white horse with a black spot on its left eye and also may be carrying a sword that is roughly seven feet in length.
    The picture of Jaxson Vascilo was not present, instead a picture of shaggy reddish brown hair and two glowing red eyes, drawn to look angry and murderous. On the left eye was a black line with two parallel lines running through the bottom, and an infinity sign at the top. The same sign as the tattoo over Jax’s left eye.
    “Interesting how big a man’s reputation can get, isn’t it?” Jax asked, peering over James’s shoulder to look at his own wanted poster.
    “You’re Jaxson Viscilo, the Demon of Julsis, aren’t you?” asked James, sweating from nervousness.
    “I do not go by that name any longer. My story is a long one child, but it starts in that town, Julsis,” Jax explained. “That was when I was Jaxson Viscilo and I was the highest commander of the king’s army. That was back in King Brachus the first’s rule. I got tired of the wars though so I left the army and lived my life. King Brachus did not like that and neither did his heir, King Brachus II. Number two decided to make my life miserable after that. Started killing people I loved and put out a bounty on my head for a lot of money. Nobody ever collected it and eventually the grandson of my previous employer took the crown. Now I have had three generations of royalty after my head and not one has succeeded.”
    James could not speak because of the fear. He was roaming the streets of Oshlam with a wanted man who was thought to be a demon. A murder of a thousand men and more.
    “Do not fret James. If I was truly the killer in this poster you would be lying in a puddle of blood right now and I wouldn’t have told you my story. I earned the title of demon in the wars I participated in, but I have dropped both the title and the name. I am now just Jax. Nothing more and nothing less. Jaxson Viscilo, the Demon of Julsis is the past me. Now come with me into the inn and enjoy a drink.”
    Jax entered the inn and James reluctantly followed. Jax was right. If he was a murderer than James would be dead. James didn’t know how far he could trust Jax, but felt safe enough to follow him into the dark inn. The bar was crowded with a mixture of men and women, both big and small; all sizes and shapes and colors. Jax was sitting at the bar, talking to the waiter about a drink. James crossed the bar area of the inn and sat on the stool next to Jax.
    “How old is the kid?” asked the bartender.
    “Twenty-two,” Jax answered.
    “A minor? Water for you then, boy,” the bartender said. He got out a glass and filled it with water fro a pitcher before handing it to James. James was too scared of Jax to drink the water. Jax was handed a bottle of rum, which he downed in a single gulp. Jax was ordering another glass when a gang of muscled men came to talk to him. James saw the four men in the corner when they first entered. Three of the four looked to be in their forties, stronger than the strongest slaves James ever saw. The fourth was slightly smaller than the others, but still twice the size of James.
    “Jaxson Viscilo?” asked one of the men.
    “That name is as dead as the soul that once possessed it,” Jax said without turning to face the men.
    “I saw the poster of you Jaxson,” the speaker said, “you are under arrest by the orders of the kind.”
    “You’re a soldier?” Jax said, finally turning to face the men.
    “No, but citizens are allowed by law to arrest you. I’m a bounty hunter, and it happens to be my lucky day. The most wanted man in the country and the man with the biggest bounty on his head. You’re coming with me to visit the king.”
    “I don’t like the king. And I don’t like treasure seekers like you who trade lives for personal gain. Begone with you,” Jax said. He turned around again to face the bartender.
    “Turn and face me,” the man said. He placed a giant hand on Jax’s right shoulder and squeezed, ready to turn him around. The muscular man pulled as hard as he could, but Jax did not turn, nor budge at all.
    “Unhand me please, sir bounty hunter,” Jax said in a calm voice.
    “I said you... are... coming... with me!” shouted the man through grunts as he pulled as hard as he could on Jax’s shoulder. Jax turned around and the man released his shoulder. Or rather it appeared to everyone at first he unhanded Jax, but in truth it was he who was unhanded. With speed that nobody detected, Jax had retrieved the bounty hunter’s own dagger and used it to separate the man’s hand from his arm at the wrist. The bounty hunter did not notice the missing appendage for a few moments, but quickly discovered it.
    The strong and manly man quickly turned to a crying baby as he rolled on the ground, clutching his stump with his remaining hand.
    “I warned him,” Jax said, tossing the dagger aside. “The poster outside warned him as well.”
    “What are you waiting for?!” the man shouted from the ground, “Get him!”
    The three remaining men all drew forth blades from their sides and tunics and prepared to assault Jax. Jax stood form his bar stool and faced the men. Two of them brought their weapons down hard on Jax’s shoulder and side, but the blades did not do the damage their wielders intended to inflict. The blades hit Jax’s skin and cut it, sending a light amount of blood from the wounds, but the weapons stopped right after puncturing the skin with a sound like metal on metal. Jax simply grabbed the sword in his shoulder and twisted it from the wielders grasp. He extended his leg and kicked the second assailant a few feet away from his dagger that was still stuck in Jax’s side. Jax removed the weapon and threw it to the ground.
    “Begone from this inn and don’t attack me again,” he said. Jax returned to his stool and drank another mug full of rum. The one handed man on the floor had gotten to his feet and stole the dagger from his still standing ally. He lifted the weapon and stabbed it as hard as he could into the neck of Jax. Another metal on metal sound reverberated through the room and the dagger stood sticking at an odd angle in the neck of Jax. James was amazed that the dagger only went as far as it did without even fazing Jax. Jax stood from the stool for a second time and removed the dagger with two fingers. Holding it at the tip with his two fingers, he took aim at the bounty hunter and threw the dagger. The blade landed right between the man’s eyes and he fell to the ground again.
    At the side of their leader’s corpse, the three remaining men ran from the bar in fear for their lives.
    “How did you do that?” James asked in amazement.
    “Those men weren’t strong enough, and their weapons not sharp enough to cut through my bones. Bones are stronger than muscle young boy.”
    “Is that why you don’t have muscles?” James asked. Jax ignored the question. James watched Jax as he drank a few more glasses of alcohol and the two of them headed off to bed upstairs. The bartender was truly generous at granting them a room for no charge, even though Jax offered a hefty price. James was worried at first of sleeping alone with this monster, but realized that even if he was not alone, Jax was still dangerous. James drifted off to sleep eventually as the cool autumn's night air drifted in through the window, chilling James to the bone, even under his blankets.

Author's Note

Criticize however you want! Harshly is preferred, but enjoy it either way ^_^