Part 1
The figure crouched on the edge of the roof, an irregular silhouette against the setting sun. From his post Avery observed the passersby as they concluded their evening shopping and hurried home to dinner and a warm chair in front of the fire. No one bothered him; anyone who glanced up and saw him immediately cast their eyes back down and picked up their pace. Tongues would wag in taverns tonight for sure--a demon in town, what could that fella possibly want here?
Avery tilted his head back, stretching his stiff neck. The last of the sun's rays glinted off the polished horns which curled against the sides of his head. Impatience tugged at the edges of his mind. Hours had passed and still he'd not found what he knew to be out there somewhere, hiding. Perhaps with darkness he'd find what he sought, but he wasn't sure any more. Maybe he'd been wrong--but he'd felt it here, he knew he had. It was here, in this backwater human town where he was probably the first demon to drop by in years. Power drew him like a moth to a flame, and there was power here. He could feel it in the air, like a static charge. He needed that power.
###
"A storm's gathering. Can't you feel it?"
Avery felt like an answer was demanded of him. He stuck a finger in his ear and made to clean it. As if he hadn't heard the rumors which spread outwards from the source like a boulder dropped in a rain puddle! Yes, he felt it, and he knew what it meant--more than anyone else, for sure.
"It's about damn time."
The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "We had rain last week, too."
Avery moved on, feeling somehow cheated for assuming the man had been talking about the impending war.
###
Heaven could feel the power there, too. If he looked hard enough and long enough he could just barely make out the ghostly wisps of the angels moving on their plane. Normally they weren't visible to even the keenest eye, but power drew them--and power created doorways. It was one of those doorways which he sought, a way into heaven so he could move like they could: in total invisibility.
Avery turned his eyes back to people on the street. He had no idea what he was looking for but he knew with certainty that if he saw, he'd know.
From down the street came the call of "thief!" Avery glanced towards the source of the commotion, saw the boy, and smiled to himself. Things always had a way of working out in his favor. With practiced ease he landed on the ground in a crouch and caught the little thief. The boy struggled for a moment, but then realized what had ahold of him and quieted immediately, his eyes wide with awe and fear. Avery put him back on his feet, knowing from experience that the kid wouldn't be stupid enough to run from him.
"Hand it over, kid."
Silently, never taking his eyes off Avery, the young boy reached into a pocket and drew forth a silver charm. He dropped it into Avery's outstretched hand. Avery studied it for a moment: a simple charmed ward, nothing more, and silver-plated rather than pure. He looked up, realizing he'd drawn the eyes of the entire crowd. The stall owner stopped short before him, and Avery casually tossed the charm at him. It hit his chest and dropped to the ground. He made no move to pick it up.
"I'll be taking the kid, if you don't mind."
No one voiced any protest at the idea. Avery scooped the kid back up and carted him off.
###
He'd been human once. It was something he didn't care to think about. Humans were weak, unfit for anything but menial labor. They didn't accomplish anything, and then they died. Demons were smarter, faster, tougher, everything humans were not--or it had seemed that way. A human could kill them, it wasn't impossible, and Avery had done in his fair share. He took away only a drop of blood, a lock of hair; when he had enough he hunted for someone to perform the spells. Being born again, he then killed the unfortunate maester. Humans died too easily.
Ironically, only humans could help him attain what he sought. Even being one, demons were his sworn enemy. He shunned their company, didn't participate in their politics--but neither did he consort overmuch with humans. Their weaknesses angered him. Their indecisiveness and their unwillingness to take risks tried his patience. He wondered how they could stand seeing death around every corner, at every crossroads. Avery had faced death many times but he had a drive, something that set him apart and made his death not matter.
Occasionally he wondered if he may have been better off dead than trying to attempt the impossible.
