Legion Gerasene's Story

"Well met, Remy Brown, well met indeed!" said the ex-demon with great reverence. He clasped her hand. "I am called Legion Gerasene. What a curious thing to run into another individual in this spot in the gardens! I was just off enjoying the weather, what brought you to this part of the city?"

"This is the place to do just that!" the ex-demon spread his arms to the side, with a grin. He nodded at her sketchbook. "What do you have in there, if you don't mind my asking?"

Legion turned slightly. The path to the rest of the gardens was before them. He offered her his arm, as any gentleman would.

"Shall we?"

Remy looked at him for a moment before she sighed and handed her sketch book to him. "It's nothing really, just a bunch of drawings.." She mumbled before taking his arm and walking with him. Legion..what a strange name..than again Remy isn't much better of a name.. Remy glanced at her sketch book and frowned, she had never shown it to anyone before, why in the world would she trust a stranger with it?

Legion flipped through the sketchbook with one hand, eyebrows knitted, observing each drawing.

"These are remarkable, Miss Remy!" said the ex-demon, with genuine wonder. "I'm afraid I don't have a talent for the arts as you do. I do have a great appreciation for them, however."

He passed the well-worn book back over to her, carefully.

Remy smiled and took the book back with gentle hands. "Thanks. It's not really that good, I just get bored a lot." She said laughing lightly before she looked upward. It looked like the sun was setting, it was he favorite time of day, when the light was fading and the moon was raising.

Remy had a feeling it would be a nice, peacefully quite night.

Thumbs were curious devices, as exclusive to humanity as were souls. Legion Gerasene found himself in possession of only one of these peculiarities, even though he searched for them both.

The ex-demon stood in line at a Wing City grocery, examining his dutifully crafted right hand with the sort of fascination that no one watching him could understand. The line shuffled forward. Machines bleeped, bags rustled, carts rattled.

Legion carried a small blue basket of bread, pre-made soups, yogurt, some fresh fruits and vegetables, plus a single chocolate bar. He had anticipated the need to eat, now that he was entertaining a human form, but what he had not known was that humans could too much. Just the morning before, he had attempted to get the day's eating done and out of the way at once, and was plagued with a tremendous stomachache, and altogether unpleasant bowel movements.

Reformed, and ready again to tackle the challenge of being human, Legion had decided to take a stroll down Main Street and purchase an assortment of balanced foodstuffs for his balanced diet.

A tall, broad-shouldered gentleman in a fine suit seemed terrifically out of place in that store. This was the rougher side of Wing City, where the desperate types lived, and only the most destitute shopped. Legion hummed cheerfully to himself, nonplussed by the haggard look of patrons around him, or the worn-down look of signs and displays.

Although outwardly jaunty, Legion kept a keen eye about him. Garnet eyes swept the scene ahead and to the side. It had been three days since the last attempt on his life had been made. Legion was doing his best to adjust to the situation thrust abruptly upon him, but there were those from his old way of existence that would not make the transition so easy ..

"Find everything alright today?" intoned the cashier, dully, as Legion stepped smartly up to the till.

"I did indeed!" answered the ex-demon, giving a well-practiced smile to the woman, who, caught off guard, gave a faltering smile in return.

Legion watched, eyebrow arced, as the woman swooped the items out of the basket, scanned them (creating that delightful boop sound) and sent them on down the conveyer. Swoop, boop. Swoop, boop.

She paused. "What, this all new to you or something?"

Her comment was meant to be wry, biting, but Legion practically beamed back at her. "It is indeed."

"Okaaaaay .. " she stabbed at the keyboard, and rang up his total.

Trade! Goods and services! Legion unfolded a newly-purchased wallet from the inside of his coat, taking a moment to examine the bills. Money was the root of all evil, wasn't it? He ought to have been more familiar with it.

Eventually, the ritual of "payment" was resolved, and Legion took up his groceries and headed out of the door. He was renting a room above a cobbler. This not being a long walk. Legion shifted his bag to the other shoulder, looking down at his shoes. Perhaps the cobbler would be of good service.

As Legion walked, he got that funny feeling that he had been getting, off and on, since the last attack. That feeling of being watched. Legion did not stop in his tracks and wheel about, looking for a tell-tale pair of eyes. He kept walking at his steady pace, crossing the street by a nearby garden. What else did humans do to seem off-hand and casual? Whistle? He ought to learn to whistle.

Whistling wouldn't save his life, though, in the event of an attack. And the last one had been personal -- too personal.

Sizobodan was the Earthly name of the terror that had visited Legion in his last location. A former lieutenant of the ex-demon General, Sizobodan had been thick-skulled, brutish, but with the level of power and ferocity and wild abandon that the Father Below needed in his armies. It was no surprise to Legion, then, that his former underlings were out and about on the mortal coil to try and polish him off. Many had tried to do so, since his being cast out. The encounter had been violent, but brief, Legion preferring instead to slip away through use of his newfound magic than stay and fight for a lost cause.

Could a demon become a pacifist? After his encounter with the Son of God, Legion did not want to fight anymore. He was too tired, too weary. He had seen too much and done too much. This early retirement was good for him, in a way.

There, now, that feeling again. Like eyes on the back of his neck. Legion slowed his pace, this time. He was far from any other soul, "across the tracks" as it were. No traffic, no residential areas to speak of, mostly abandoned storefronts. The ex-demon halted.

"I would offer you a share of what I have just purchased, did I not think your intentions more nefarious!" Legion announced to his unnamed follower, keeping his own eyes forward. "Still, I greet you warmly all the same. Perhaps you might come out, and we may dialogue further?"

"Huh. You're good."

The remark came - quite literally - from the shadows a short distance to Legion's side, under the canopy of one of the street's shops. After a moment, they rippled, as cloth blacker than any midnight was unfolded. A pair of golden catlike eyes peered out from the darkness as a slight figure lowered his hands from his hood, shadows falling away from his form to leave him visible in the dark. "Enchantment isn't perfect. Only tailored for five senses. Basic, but effective. Shouldn't be surprised you saw through it."

Legion's pursuer held the appearance of someone quite different to the brutish demon he had previously encountered. Of below average height, he was a young man that couldn't have been past his teens in age, with fair skin and black hair that fell messily to his ears, fringe stopping just short of his eerily golden eyes. A number of weapons were evident upon his person, including a wickedly curved sword, formed of some strange dark metal.

"You are Legion. For you are many. That's what the story says."

The youth gave Legion a look up and down.

"Dressed better than expected. Less bloodstains. More shopping bags. Expected trail of bodies, not trail of confused cashiers."

Legion gave a wry grin. He recognized a sharp-tongued conversationalist when he met one.

"Believe me, I understand the particular fussiness of disguising enchantments," the ex-demon said, lowering his bag. "Yes, I am the one called Legion, although, I exist in the singular fashion these days."

The gentleman took in the small arrangement of weapons on the young boy's person. Legion gave a heavy sigh. "Am I right in assuming that you are here to dispatch me? If so, I wonder if you would give me the chance to set this bag down. It grows more weighty with every moment."

"Not exactly." Nairi shook his head, "Just to find you. Assume the killing part comes after report back. Don't do killing, not very often anyway."

He continued to fix Legion with an unwavering stare as he spoke in sharp, disconnected fragments of sentences. "Apparently you're difficult to find. Admittedly wasn't easy. Took a while to realise you were you. Don't act like a demon overlord. Seemed like I was on the wrong trail till I heard your mage friend say your name."

Your mage friend.

Well and truly shocked, the only reaction Legion felt he could give was a laugh of disbelief.

"I have underestimated you! I thought you just clever at tracking and hiding. I had no idea the level of your dedication to whosoever tasked you to find me. Yes, my mage friend. He has been working on a disguise to hide my nature in both a physical and metaphysical sense. But I must have made some mistake. I suppose that means that more fighting is in my future."

Legion set his bag of groceries down on the ground. He glanced behind him, choosing to sit rather resignedly on the front stoop of one of the abandoned storefronts.

"I do not act like a demon overlord because I am one no longer. That part of me met an unfortunate demise in the presence of the Son of God. I have tried to change my ways, I have tried to start over and live the practices of faith as it is called. But the past has a way of coming back to haunt me, as humans say. Or in this case, kill me."

Legion reached into his bag, and pulled out an apple. He tossed it to the werecat.

"Here, for your trouble. Bring it to whoever hired you. An apple caused the downfall of the Garden of Eden, perhaps it will be the symbol of mine as well!"

He spoke the words, defeated, but not glum. Legion rested his arms on his knees and laced his fingers together.

Nairi caught the apple deftly out of the air, examining it for a moment suspiciously before lowering his hand. "No 'you'll never report back alive'?" he questioned, tilting his head. "No fireworks? No... anything?"

The werecat crouched across from Legion in a (fittingly) catlike pose. "Disguise isn't wrong. Or he wouldn't have needed me. Certainly not drawing attention to yourself. Anyone else? No chance they'd have found you. I cheat, though." Nairi tapped his nose knowingly.

"Not an evil overlord, then. Seemingly not an evil anything. Strange. Different." Those bright golden eyes grew thoughtful. "Only way he'll know anything about you is if I tell him. No reports. No secret watchers. My call."

He paused for a moment, as though letting the thoughts sink in. "Surely easiest solution just to kill me, so why not?"

Both werecat and ex-demon took each other in, with new eyes.

"If I were to kill you, I would be no better than the ones who sent you to me," Legion remarked. He took an apple of his own out of the bag, polished it on his sleeve, and took a small bite. "I believe I have crossed a threshold. I will defend myself, if needed, but I will no longer seek to harm others. No -- that was my old life, my old purpose."

The ex-demon took another bite. He chewed, thoughtfully.

"You know my name, but I do not know yours. Who are you? How did you come to be in the employ of my enemies?"

"Call me Seeker. For now." Nairi responded with a small twitch of the corner of his mouth. "Clue is in the name. I seek, I find. They needed to find you. They came to me. Have a reputation in this city."

Again, the corner of his mouth curled upwards. "The Mystic, isn't it? His alias. Kastner. Know him, actually. Not well. But maybe he can tell you more. Not my name, though. Keep that safe."

He tossed the apple into the air and caught it again. "Rosabella's Garden." he said thoughtfully. "Some of them go to the bakery, but this one went to market. They dropped it, dog had a sniff, but they were going to wash it anyway, so they put it back in the crate. Little girl with snot on her hands brushed across it this morning. Took the one next to it. Might want to think about washing them first, though."

The werecat gave a coy grin, "New life, is it? Can relate to that." he said, nodding slowly.

Kastner, knowing this strange werecat? That was no surprise to Legion. The ex-demon knew the Mystic kept odd company. Otherwise, why would the strange man have helped him out personally, when he was in such a difficult position?

What Legion found the more interesting, however, was how the werecat handled the apple, and recited its story. At first, the ex-demon wondered if the werecat had simply been keeping eye on the grocery store, but realized the likelihood of that was slim. No. There was something else at play, here. What was it the werecat had called himself? Seeker?

"You have a unique ability, it seems," Legion said slowly. "And as for the notion of a new life, perhaps we are both not as different as we seem."

Legion gave another bite to his apple. How strange life was. Here he was, snacking in the company of a strange young man, someone who had moments ago intended to (or still intended to?) reveal his position to the most dastardly of enemies.

"Was it Sizobodan? Great, thick brute he always was. Arrogant, and arrogance defiles wisdom. In any case, I have told you I would not kill you, or try to kill you. I will not attack you if you leave. Whether you inform my enemies of where I am, that is of no consequence to me."

"Not so much unique." Nairi mused, "But not many do it this well."

He lapsed into silence for a long moment, thinking.

"No, don't think I will. Like you more than liked him. Plus, he lied about you. Don't like being lied to. Already paid me some anyway." The werecat shrugged, "Don't seem like you deserve to die. Not now, anyway. Maybe before. But past is past. Left well enough alone."

Nairi knew full well about leaving what you had been in the past behind, well and truly. He wouldn't deny this ... ex-demon the same luxury. "What now?" he posed, "Your plans. Ex-demon in a world of men. Playground or prison?"

"Oh," Legion began, surprised. No one had asked him outright what his plans were. "Well, once things calm down I suppose I will have to build some sort of life."

By "calm down" he of course meant the assassination attempts. Demon slayer and demon alike were coming after him more readily than they had before. Talk about being kicked when you were down! But the werecat's declaration that he wouldn't give up Legion's new disguise or location .. well, that was something. The ex-demon was sure it would get out eventually, but for the moment, it seemed as though he had been given peace.

"You know what, I don't know what I'll do!" Legion realized, amazement in his voice. He nodded to the werecat. "You, it sounds like you've had some sort of 'new life' experience. How did you handle it? Where did you go? What became important to you?"

Good question, Nairi thought. What was important to him? He pondered in silence for a time, frowning in thought.

"Difficult question." he said finally, shrugging his shoulders. "Not sure how to answer." In truth, the werecat wasn't sure about having a conversation on so deep a level with a stranger. But then, most people were strangers to him. "Maybe ... figuring out what is me, and what was... what I was made. Understand? They're different. Things you were made into, things you are. Separate them."

It seemed a non-committal answer by his manner, but it was true to an extent.

"What is me, and what I was made," Legion drawled slowly. The words sounded good to him. A new sense of purpose blossomed in his chest.

The ex-demon rose to his feet. He dusted off his hands, smoothed down the front of his suit, and returned his half-eaten apple to its bag, which he bent and retrieved.

"You are well met, friend!" said Legion, with a smile. "I am glad to have encountered you today. I have much to dwell on. If we see each other again, Seeker, through our mutual friend the Mystic, I would not be averse to the occasion."

It seemed strange to simply get up and walk away, but Legion was not sure what else to say to the werecat. As far as goodbyes went, this one was not the most peculiar, and a peculiar end to a peculiar interaction was fittingly poetic. The Seeker could have followed, if he wanted, Legion did not look back.

"Maybe we will. Who knows?" Nairi replied, rolling his shoulders in a shrug. "Don't dwell too long. Better to just go with it. See where life takes you."

He did not follow, as Legion moved away, he merely watched after him for a time thoughtfully. No doubt Sizobodan would be in touch before long, but the Seeker wasn't worried. He was too valuable to the right people to be threatened.

Before long, he was gone from the street, melding back into the shadows and retreating to wherever it was he called home.

Legion Gerasene strolled into the Wing City Plaza, just in time to notice an odd blue-tinted metal ball floating off to the side, near one of the less ornate fountains. The ex-demon frowned slightly at the sight, but continued on his way.

It was right around lunchtime, and Legion had a mind to venture into Wing City proper for a bite to eat. He had mastered the peculiar ritual of timing meals so that they fit his human body's schedule. After a few weeks of attempting to cook for himself, Legion concluded that his preferred way of taking nourishment was having it prepared for him by someone more skilled, who, indeed, could possibly use the business.

And so Legion decided on that day to try a new cafe that he hadn't noticed before. The Wing City Cafe, it was called, simply, was a hole-in-the-wall. Outside on the sidewalk was a chalkboard leaning against the window. Someone had printed very neatly with bright, neon-colored chalk what the days specials were. Legion slowed his pace as he approached the entrance.

The building was old, all brick and stonework, but the cafe recently refurbished, with cheerful accents on vases filled with flowers along the wall and even on some of the outdoors furniture. Legion entered the establishment, blinked a few times to get his garnet eyes to adjust to the light.

Aha! The place was much larger on the inside than it looked, more narrow than wide. Legion strolled past a few occupied tables, making his way to the counter. As he waited in line behind a young couple, Legion's gaze drifted over the food displays. He saw a plate of fresh fruit. The sight of an apple stayed him ..

.. Just a week before, Legion had been walking home from the grocery, when he had accosted a strange figure following him. The Seeker, called Nairi (although the ex-demon couldn't have known his name) revealed that he had been hired to find Legion's new location, and report back to his enemies. The two had spoken, briefly, with the Seeker deciding that he was not going to spoil Legion's new life. Legion remembered tossing the young man an apple, while taking a few bites out of one himself.

The apple, a symbol of sin and the fall from the Garden of Eden, Legion mused, noting that the apple in the case in front of him was even the same size and hue of the one he had purchased for himself at that time. But perhaps now, in my case, a symbol of mercy -- a new chance?

Legion tore himself from his internal monologue when he realized that he was at the front of the line, now, and the cashier, a bright-eyed youth with no pupils for eyes, was looking at him politely, but urgently -- two or three patrons had lined up behind the ex-demon, and seemed to know what they wanted to order more than he did.

Legion quickly glanced up at the menu, eventually requesting the day's lunch special. He paid for his meal, and stepped off to the side, waiting for it to be prepared. The ex-demon cut a distinguished figure, tall and broad-shouldered. He gave a real purveying look to the interior of the cafe, with its larger-than-life paintings on too-small walls, its haggard brick look. Today was a good day.

Still, Legion could not stop thinking about the Seeker, and the questions that encounter had posed. What did Legion want to do with his life now? What was his goal, his purpose?

These were questions that humans asked themselves, was it not? And Legion, while still not human, but still not a career demon, realized that wrestling with these factors was what humanity dealt with every single day.

How do they deal with the uncertainty? Legion hummed tunelessly to himself. His food arrived shortly, a half-sandwich with a slim dill pickle, and a cup of hot vegetable soup. The ex-demon took the tray and walked up a half-step to sit by himself at a tiny round table in the corner, and by the time he had tasted the soup, he pushed those doubts and questions out of his mind, settling instead for a hearty meal.