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Description
Life is a luxury, one enjoyed and used to its fullest, depending upon the view of what ‘fullest’ actually means, by many. As being such, life is subject to several factors, most especially the forces of good and evil, right and wrong, light and darkness—order and chaos.

This is the story of one being, a demon in the world of anime, whose life is composed of such unbelievable conflicts that it must be shared.

His home, a poor stricken village with nothing but happy spirits running about and parents carefree as to their classic peasant setting. His own mud-and-hay hut, among the many, was beyond well, containing a carefully constructed clay oven with a fireplace underneath, two big beds along with a bunk bed—all fairly comfortable—, and a table constructed to perfection. Near the door popped in an average male adult with messy brown hair and a huge smile on his face.

“How are you honey?” he asked in a deep tired voice to a woman with black hair, sitting in a still fresh wooden rocking chair with a kid sleeping in her arms.

“Just fine.” said the woman, smiling as a response. “Asura is still sleeping. He’s exhausted from today’s work.”

“That’s great, the boys and Kairi are still outside.” he said pointing outside with his thumb.

“You should stay out there. Make sure they’re all getting along fine.” she said, closing her dark eyes and laying her head on her youngest son.

“Ok, I’ll be back.” he said, kissing her cheek and then leaving out the archway with no door.

The young boy is indeed the subject of this story. As he lay there, blissfully sleeping the day away, it is difficult to imagine that this small child’s life could be disturbed by anything besides his older brothers, whom he resembled more and more as he grew older. But sadly, his dormant face was unintentionally asking for but the first of many problems left to come.

The contrasting gentle feel of the harshly blown wind chilled everyone’s body, as if it had foreshadowed what was soon to present itself. The wind was silenced; replaced by a different sound; this sound was repetitive and numerous; this was the sound of charging feet. With a single child looking on to the horizon at the hearing of the beastly feet, her mother was caught off guard, bitten deep into her shoulder by a bright ravaging wolf. Others simply watched the sight, only horrifically noticing the sources of the charging feet rampaging into the village. A series of creatures, too numerous and different from each other, attacked the poor village, clawing and feasting onto their already frail bodies.

The family already introduced quickly rushed into the house; the twin sons, though eldest were still scared, rushed to their mother; the daughter, who was just a bit younger than the sleeping Asura, rushed to hide into a haystack familiar to her already as her favorite hiding place; and finally, the father braced the door with the broken clay table accompanied with its six clay chairs to provide sufficient guard against their attackers, before he hurried to his wife’s side.