Book one: A Demon's Childhood

Chapter 1: Beggar

Maybe today was a beautiful day, to all those children who walked hand in hand with their parents. The snow had fallen hard last night. To them, it must look like a fairy tale.

To Beggar, the small boy in rags that waited on the corner next to the church for someone to throw him a coin or something to eat, the white powder that covered the ground looked like death.

Only five years of age, or maybe not, Beggar wasn't sure. Couldn't even count all that well. Or read, for that matter. He knew that the priests inside the church could tell him his age, but didn't dare to ask. There had been rumors about little boys like him disappearing around the church. Going who knew where.

A man stopped before the dark-haired demon boy. It was an elf, all high and noble. Beggar had some good memories about elves in the past. Some of them had even fed him, before. He stretched up his hand, and the elf placed a package inside.

"Merry Christmas," the elf said, and then rushed off. Beggar wasn't sure what Christmas was, but he had gotten a place to sleep last year around this time of the year, so he opened the package with a hopeful gaze.

There was a sandwich inside. Beggar's eyes widened, when he noticed that it was still warm. His tail waved left to right behind him. Sniffing the sandwich, he gulped.

Opening the topmost slice of bread, the demon boy saw that there was meat and cheese, and even cucumber inside. With some sauces. Beggar quickly placed the bread back on top of the rest, and took a big bite.

The boy forced himself to chew and not just gulp down the food. The last time he had had food, there hadn't been snow on the ground yet. That had happened about two, or maybe three days ago.

As Beggar continued to eat his present, he thought on the elf. Did the elf have a nice home? Did he want to have children? Would he come back tomorrow with more food?

In Beggar's short life, there had both been good people and bad. This elf was one of the good. Beggar could imagine himself in a warm home, sitting at the foot of a chair, and looking up at the elf's face. He allowed himself to dream for a bit, about him getting to hear a story.

Beth, the old homeless lady that squatted near the abandoned burned out street at the end of the town liked to tell him stories. She also liked to give him things to eat.

Beth was gone now. She had been caught out in the rain one night, and then the next she had gotten down with a fever. Even though she must have been in pain, she still tried to tell him a story.

Beggar had called her mother, and that had made her cry. She had breathed her last soon after. That was the first time that Beggar allowed himself to cry. That had been a mistake. His cries had brought about some dogs to the burned-out house, and he had heard the crunching noises behind him as he ran.

Since then, Beggar had thought better than to cry. What use was crying? Beth had always said that he had a wonderful smile. That his smile made her happy.

Beggar smiled, and then went and threw the packaging of the sandwich in a trash can. Now that he was fed, he could go and search a place for the night.

Just as he passed by the church's opened door, he heard singing from inside. Looking inside, he saw that the place was full. There, in clean robes, were the choir boys. Singing carols of the holiday that was happening today.

It was a good song, even though Beggar didn't know what they were singing. He stood to listen for a bit, and then turned around and left. It was best if no one noticed him.

Deciding that now that he had energy he mustn't waste it, Beggar went down to the docks. The town was broken into two parts by a river, and even in the dead of winter, the water didn't freeze over.

Ships came and went up and down the river. Where there were ships, there was work to be had. Sure, he was dirty, scrawny, and couldn't read or count all that well, but he could lift things.

If he used the strength the sandwich gave him today, to earn some money for tomorrow, then he could eat the next day, and repeat. People often took pity on him, and let him lift smaller crates.

The snow crunched under his feet. Slowly, he passed through the busy streets and the last-minute shoppers. Then, the smell of fish, from the fish market that was still open even today, came to his nose. That meant that the docks were close behind.

Beggar's tail waved in joy. He didn't even feel winded from going the distance. Maybe, today was his lucky day? When he came, he saw that there weren't many people mixing around the docks. Still, there were a couple of ships docked that hadn't been there, last time that Beggar had looked around for a job.

Going to the shabbiest one, as the captains of the more well-off ones didn't often hire children, he went to the nearest porter, and walked side by side.

"I am looking for a..." Beggar began, but then the porter took one good look at him, and his face hardened.

"Beggar, they don't need any more porters," the man said. Clearly knowing the little boy, even though Beggar didn't know him.

"I am strong. I can carry crates," Beggar protested. Sure, he was a child, but he was a demon as well. Demons, even children, were stronger than normal people.

"Get lost," the man walked by him, and Beggar looked to the ship. Surely, the captain wouldn't send him away?