Devil's Workday (Devil Aster Days Book 1)
Read Devil's Workday (Devil Aster Days Book 1) Online
Authors: Mitchell Olson
“Commander Aster!” the soldier cried, “we’re too far out! We should go back!” It was no use. Aster couldn’t hear his men anymore. The soldier’s cries were drowned out by the gale sandstorm and Aster’s own shouts of anguish. One by one, the Commander tore through his foes with absolutely no compassion. After all, they were only demons.
The number one rule in Hell was kill or be killed. At least for the demons that seemed to be the case. Devils were different though. Unlike the savage demons, devils were people. The descendants of Lucifer Satan’s rebellious angels cast down from Heaven to the sunless bowels of Hell, the devils were actually very similar to the angels. Of course, there were a few key differences between the races.
Commander Aster stood tall, broad-shouldered and swinging his thick broadsword. His many years of learned swordplay tactics no longer in use, he was now relying on what remaining strength he had to mercilessly cut through his foes in a fashion similar to swinging a baseball bat. The sword was damn heavy, too. Weighing in at nearly 100 pounds, it’d be a feat for a human to even lift it, much less use it in combat. And yet, Aster swung it with angry ease.
Though his body was physically nearing its limit he refused to stop. Not yet. Not after what those God-forsaken demons did. The devils never meant them any harm, and yet the demons would never stop attacking them. Savage creatures, incapable of being reasoned with, they desired only one thing: food. The devils would never see a peaceful day, not while the demons roamed free. After their last invasion, Aster had had enough.
That was the reason why he led his team far out into the desert. He knew his men shouldn’t be out that far, but as his rage had not yet subsided and the enemies kept coming, he saw no reason to retreat just yet. As he hacked and slashed still more foes, he frantically scoured the desert landscape. There was something out there, something he needed to see. It became his entire reason for being there.
“Commander! Please!” the unknown soldier shouted again more frantically this time. He was trying his best to fend off several lesser demons, which under usual circumstances wouldn’t pose too much of a threat. However, as they were no longer within the safety of the city walls, they were deep in enemy territory. The demons had vastly superior numbers.
The soldier plunged his (much smaller) sword into another demon, only to have it get stuck in the monster’s belly. The demon reared back and fell over dead, it’s soul floating freely away into the night. The sword was still trapped in its carcass.
Luckily, devils have a particularly amazing and
efficient
natural self-defense. Stripped of their protective Holy Light, the first batch of devils to arrive in Hell had to come up with a new means of survival, and
quickly
. Taking their mastery of soul power to the next level, they invented the Devil Flame.
Some devils were quite skilled at it and could launch devastatingly powerful flame-based attacks. Others, like the soldier currently fighting for his life, were adequate at best. This was also the reason why he was equipped with a sword. He used his flame the best he could, launching small fireballs at the invading demons, but was eventually overwhelmed by his opponents. He held as large a flame as he could muster in his hand, and made one last desperate call to his Commander.
“Sir! We’re surrounded! They’re not stopping!” he shouted.
“You and the others return to the city!” Aster called to him, launching a fireball at a demon that’d had the nerve to attempt an escape. This had become his suicide mission, and dragging his men into it was unfair to them. As the whipping sands momentarily died down, Aster could at long last see the landmark he’d been searching for: a sword, stuck blade-first in the sand. The sight nearly brought a tear to his eye. He needed to get closer. That was exactly what he had intended to do, until he got a very real wake-up call.
“The other men are dead, sir,” the soldier told him. Aster took a moment to actually look around him at the chaos he had orchestrated. Besides the hundreds of dead demons lying at his feet, he saw some familiar faces: The faces of several of his own men. Good soldiers, each and every one of them. Always loyal, always following orders. His
comrades
. They had families. They had died because their Commander hadn’t had the sense to see they were in danger. He looked at the one remaining soldier, still scared and fighting for his life. It became painfully clear they had to turn back at once.
Aster took one last fleeting glance at the sword in the sand, before the storm winds kicked back up and obscured the area around them.
Igniting an enormous fireball in his hand, he launched it at the demon that was about to bite down on the last remaining soldier. The fireball collided with the demon’s head, exploding it to bits. The soldier, who’s eyes had been closed tightly in fear of imminent death, slowly opened his eyes. After getting a good look at the demon carcass on the ground with a crater for its head, the soldier turned to see his Commander.
“We’re retreating,” Aster said.
The soldier was very relieved to hear that.
Their retreat back to the safety of the Kingdom of Hell was not an easy one. It was a dangerous and time-consuming withdrawal in which they were still pursued by the demons. Once back at the city walls, however, they were provided cover-fire from the guards stationed at the wall there. They entered through the South Section of the city.
The Kingdom of Hell was split into four sections: North, South, East and West. In the middle of the cities laid the Royal Castle: home of King Satan. Despite what images that name might imply to a human, Satan was actually a very kind man and beloved ruler of the devils. The solider that had accompanied Aster on his frenzied suicide mission to the desert was dismissed, and returned to his post in the South Section’s barracks. Aster had to report back to the main barracks located at the castle.
As Commander of the Royal Guard, the only “police force” in Hell, Aster was constantly busy. It was a huge change for him as up until a few months ago he was only a Captain. The four Captains each presided over their designated section of the City, with the Commander giving them their orders. Aster’s promotion was unwanted, however, as the last viscous demon attack left them without a Commander. They were understaffed and had been dealt a crippling blow, and Aster just so happened to be the #2 choice for a Commander.
Aster chose to forgo the use of his wings to fly back. He was in no hurry. It wasn’t a terribly long walk back to the Castle anyway, and he always enjoyed patrolling the streets on foot. It took him back to a simpler time when he didn’t feel the burden of responsibility lie solely on his shoulders.
The walk back to the Castle was calming. He didn’t encounter any criminal activity, but then again he didn’t really expect any. When people saw the Commander coming, they knew to be on their best behavior. Aster was a large man, roughly six feet tall with a body of pure muscle. Because of his father’s strict training regiment he’d been working out his entire life. Another factor that attributed to everyone’s good behavior was his armor. The particular black armor that he now wore was that of a Commander. At an early age, the citizens of Hell learned to differentiate between the various types of armor. The lowest soldier’s armor was red, and covered the bare minimum of skin required. A Captain’s armor was also red, but was a full-body suit. Commander Aster’s armor was similar, but black and much spikier.
No matter where you were in the city the castle seemed to be looming in the distance, always visible. As far as architecture goes, it was a sight to behold. The enormous palace stood fifteen stories tall, with even taller, seemingly randomly placed towers jutting out from all over. The whole thing was square shaped, and covered a very large amount of ground. Below the ground, a deep and complex labyrinth of tunnels ran underneath the castle serving as a prison. All along the castle walls guards were stationed as a last line of defense should demons ever fully invade.
Aster entered the castle and made his way to the first basement floor, otherwise known as the Main Royal Guard Barracks. On his way, several soldiers welcomed him back, to which he would usually nod and maybe give a fake smile. Today he was not in the mood to smile. As he entered the barracks all the men immediately stood at attention and saluted him. He was still not used to the treatment. “At ease” he told them, and they continued their business. Some of them were eating a late breakfast. Others were just finishing up their patrol shift and preparing to head home.
“Where are the Captains?” Aster asked aloud. Most of the men were too timid to speak up. A lot of them simply didn’t have an answer. Finally, one man stood and spoke.
“Neither of them have been in yet, sir. But I’ve heard Captain Fayth is currently handling an overnight situation in the North Section.”
“Find Venus. Tell her that I’ll be there as soon as I speak to Archen.”
“Yes sir!” The guard practically bolted out the door, eager to impress the Commander with his willingness and haste.
“The rest of you,” Aster said, “we’ve lost five men from the Southern barracks. Make arrangements to inform their families.” He paused for a moment, as his men looked to him for any words of explanation or comfort. He added, “As you know, we were attacked early this morning. We’re lucky we only lost five. It could have been much worse.” The men didn’t seem too comforted, but what else could he do? Give a rousing speech and pretend everything was okay? Everything was not okay, and his men knew well enough. Being a member of the Royal Guard put you right at the front lines of battling demons. That’s probably why their numbers were so low at the moment.
Fleeing the tension in the room, Aster made a beeline to his office. There wasn’t much to be done in there, as the stacks of papers on his desk remained largely untouched since he inherited them. He mostly just wanted to escape the prying eyes of his troops. It wouldn’t be long before word spread of how it was his fault those men died. He didn’t know which was worse: the guilt of knowing he caused their deaths, or that he was more concerned with what his men would now think of him.
He pushed a pile of papers forward to clear a place for his head and lay it down on the desk. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to relax. When he opened them, just inches away from his face and buried under the papers was a small metal nameplate. The name engraved on it read “Commander Clarus Honore.” He removed it from underneath the paper, sending a few stacks to the floor in the process. Holding it in his hands, he zoned out staring at it for an unknown amount of time.
Aster was eventually snapped out of it by a gentle knocking on his door. He sat up straight immediately; tall, powerful, and
confident
. “Enter,” he called. Through the door walked in Archen Loil, a long-time friend of Aster and current Captain.
“
Commander
,” he began as a custom.
“Drop the formalities,
Captain,
” Aster replied.
The two smiled, though only faintly. It was still too early in the day, and there was simply too much going on to be happy about it all. “It seems you’ve inherited quite the mess,” Archen joked in reference to the papers scattered on the desk and floor.
“So it would seem,” Aster replied dully.
“I heard you ran into some trouble already this morning.” Archen had given his friend the opportunity for small talk. It was now time to talk business.
“Word has spread fast.” Aster was always amazed at how quickly stories and rumors spread throughout Hell. In less than an hour, it seemed like everyone would know what he’d done.
“I was particularly interested in the part where we lost five men,” Archen added.
“You were ‘interested’ by that?” Aster asked.
“Okay,” Archen admitted, “interested is the wrong word. I was
disappointed
. What happened this morning Aster?”
“It was just a stupid mistake on my part.”
“A mistake that cost five men their lives, Aster!”
“I know, damn it!” Aster never shouted. Archen was taken aback suddenly. “I know. I lost my temper when the demons attacked this morning. I…wanted
revenge
.” Aster clenched the former commander’s nameplate tightly. Archen was no fool, and could read his friend better than anyone else in Hell. He could see the sorrow in his eyes, and knew he was genuinely sorry for what he had done.
“Look friend,” Archen started, “we all know you’re the right man for the job. Every one of us believes in you. But pulling stupid stunts like this is a great way to get the
rest
of the Kingdom to start doubting you. So how about you pull it together, for
everyone’s
sake?” Archen always had a way of speaking to Aster, always knowing exactly what to say. And this time was no different. The people of Hell did depend on him. Now wasn’t the time for him to be falling apart.
“I never thought I’d see a mere
Captain
lecturing his
Commander.”
Aster was finally able to smile a genuine smirk.
“Think of it as an exchange between two friends then,” Archen said.