Effie Callaway

The room was silent, I understood why, what appeared to be a white woman was in a dining room full of, what they would have us to be believe freed slaves and begins telling us she wants what’s good and best for us. Most everyone in at the table was hesitant to eat or speak. “How can we trust you,” a woman holding her child asked; it was the mother from earlier. She was visibly scared and nervous, again I couldn’t blame her; but I knew that there was a way that she could trust them. 

“You don’t have to, because I will,” I said as I stood up from the table. I was only thirteen years old, but having a reputation as one of the Massa’s most prized products, I had a bit of an influence amongst some of the younger women, “I’m not entirely sure the details, but last night I was at my lowest. Massa Callaway; no, Callaway, invited me and Missy to his chambers to have his way with us.” I began to tell the story of what I could remember the night prior. 

“Callaway kept beating my face until I was a bloody pulp; that was until the colors in the room got all jumbled up,” I described to the best of my ability to get a grasp of what I was trying to say. “And then, after that, I saw him and his rainbow hair; and I remembered the story that my Ma used to tell me, that her Ma used to tell her, and so on, about The Sand Master. And I remembered the story Miss Missy, or I mean, Miss Jade told me before we met with Callaway,” I took a deep breath and faced the three. “You didn’t just save my life, but everyone’s life that lived on this plantation, and even if no one else from this plantation wants to join your cause, you can at least count on me to be there with you,” I said as I glared at all the other skeptical women at the table. Each of their heads looked down at their feet as they received my lecture. 

“Truth is,” The Sand Master quickly and politely interrupted. “I plan to discuss more about that matter tonight during the ceremony, the meeting that I intend for you all to join,” he smiled with an almost child-like expression. “For now, please eat, there’s nothing to worry about, nor do you need to concern yourself with work. As long as I’m here, you are to do as you please,” his words echoed the dining room as he left and the other two women followed behind him. 

The other women gossiped and pointed at me while I continued eating. Their eyes are all so heavy, why are they looking at me like that, I pondered.  “What, where is Missy? Wasn’t she with you last night,” yelled one of the women. 

“Allow me to explain, and reintroduce myself,” Jade had shift into Missy. “I apologize for deceiving you all, however, The Young Master asked me to do reconnaissance here at this plantation. I was meant only to blend in and not draw attention to myself, but I never really been the best at that,” she said with a girlish giggle before she shifted back into her adult form. 

The other women at the table all looked at each other, black women, demon and non-human women and children that all had lived a life of slavery and torment were finally able to live free lives; but they didn’t want to believe it. It was like something was holding them back, like they needed to experience the same sort of feeling that I felt last night before I was saved. “What time is this meeting,” I asked Miss Jade. 

“The Young Master is preparing for it to be at around dusk, nearest to nightfall,” she replied. 

“Good, by then, I’m sure The Sand Master will convince everyone here to join him,” I said as I continued to stuff my face. I saw out of the corner of my eye a few younger girls and teenage girls admiring me from a distance. They were some of the girls that believed Miss Jade about all her stories about her master, I thought. The girls approached me and asked if they could sit with me, “uh, yeah—, sure,” I replied. 

There were four girls in total, two preteen girls, around my age, maybe younger, and two teenagers, both about sixteen. “We believe you, ya’know,” one of their older girls said, her name was Priscilla and she was beautiful with dark brown skin the fullest and highest cheekbones, and thankfully since we lived on this particular plantation, she was able to keep her beautiful hair that defied gravity. 

“Yeah, we always have,” another little girl said, she was a petite girl that was orphaned and capture by slavers. They took one look at her ears and knew they struck gold, she was what they called an elf, but what she said her Ma and Pa called themselves was Dartaani Elves or simply Dartaani. They inherently had beautiful honey brown skin and from what I know of this little girl, whose name was Helen by the way, had a fiery temper. 

The girls gathered around me and we continued to eat and they listened to my story more in detail, “I honestly didn’t know what to think,” I said looking at my plate of biscuits and gravy. “But then, when I saw him, The Sand Master, I knew I was safe. I can’t explain why, or how I knew, but I did know I was safe,”I said to the girls all wide-eyed and bushy tailed. 

“That must have been a lot to go through,” Priscilla said caressing my hair. “We’ll make sure we stay by your side from now on, us girls gotta stick together.” The other girls snickered as we finished our plates and made our exits. 

•••

Myrlin Samael Wyllt-Garyushi

Snake Island, Lagos, Nigeria; 4 April 1659 AD (R4): 22 July 44,996 hTC; 361 ACC

“There’s still ten ships carrying slaves at the port and they’re about to set sail,” Trident reported as he arose from the water. “I estimate four hundred on each ship.”

“Disgusting,” I muttered. The idea of a person capturing, selling, and purchasing another person, only to do as you please, surely is justifiable by death. “Our main objective is to prevent the ships from setting sail and saving those who were captured,” I looked to my subordinate as he gave me a nod and an affirmative “SIR!”

We had been going back and forth with the Portuguese and Spanish for about ten years now, all because of their unlawfully capturing the people of Africa and non-human beings; but the fools are so persistent, they still found ways to commit their acts. Thankfully, I’m not alone in my efforts in stopping this corrupt system, I do have my sister, Minerva, and our dear friend Renata; coincidentally, the three of us have managed to become worthy to evolve into True Demon Lords. At the moment, we’re considered Demon Lord Heirs, however, this evolution is the highest any Demon Lord from hTraé has been able to obtain. That isn’t to say that Demon Lord Heirs are weak, in fact, the “Heir” in Demon Lord Heir, refers to the potential to reach the final evolution; to put it in simple terms, a requirement of becoming a True Demon Lord is becoming an Heir. 

I possess one of the Three Wise Aspects, The Aspect of Time, meaning since birth, I’ve had a connection with the concept and could even manipulate it. My signature, however, didn’t originally manifest itself as time, instead as carbon-manipulation; if you think about it long enough, it’ll make sense. Essentially, the sand that I can control isn’t just ordinary sand, the moment my mana comes in contact with any sand, it transforms it into The Sands of Time. The reason for this is due to my duel elemental affinities in both Aspects of Sylphs and Terra, air and earth respectively. 

Initially, my Signature manifested itself as something of a “Time Stop” ability called Temporal Stasis, however, I later learned that I was actually manipulating the CO2 in the air and creating another, rather separate plain in which I can move freely in. Because of the CO2 manipulation, it causes the body and the mind to experience time at an insanely slow rate. Once deactivated, the frozen time will resume as though nothing happened; minus the things that I was able to interact with. Later as I got older, my secondary element manifested itself as Sand Control, the ability to control sand at a molecular level, I mostly used my sand signature as my main element due to its versatility. 

After our retaliation against the Mycenaean Gods was won, I under went my initial evolution into a Demon Lord Heir, and after that I had the opportunity to evolve my signature along with me. At this point, I’d already evolved it into something extraordinary in my Mind Sand, however, I was able to fused both my Sylphs and Terra Aspects together to create something even more unique and powerful, Archival Playlist. The signature belongs to the Aspect of Time and at its core, it allows me to manipulate time as if it were a music streaming platform; however it has way more functions than that.

For starters, the signature works in tandem with my Bard skill and with it I can add music in the middle of a battle that’ll give my allies a boost in power. Additionally, while I’m using the signature I have access to a separate plain of existence, where in which I have complete control over. Lastly, after my evolution into an heir, I gained access to my most useful tool, LGIN, Lesser God Interface Network; however I’ve grown to learn that my particular patch of the interface was rather interesting. For some reason, a soul found a way to merge with the network, thus creating something new. This version of the network acts completely independently and basically acts as a personal assistant, I gave it the name Mattia. 

“Master,” alerted Mattia, she had the voice of a young girl, around the age of seventeen or eighteen. “I feel it pertinent that you are aware of this,” she sounded worried about something. 

“What’s on your mind Mattia,” I asked, it wasn’t like her to add concern to her voice, however when she does, it’s usually because she’s preparing for something. 

An LGIN window suddenly appeared in my field of vision and it showed not only mine and my subordinates Cache Levels, but also an estimation of Minerva and Renata levels, and they were dangerously low. As Demon Lord Heirs, our Cache’s ability to hold mana grows exponentially, near infinite levels, however it would seem that we over extended our limits and are now we have about one third of our Cache reserves left per heir. 

“Master, you must utilize your mana more strategically,” Mattia lectured. “You can afford to use at least seven more ‘Grand Scale’ spells, however, after that you would need to recharge your cache, and the approximate amount of time it would take for a full cache would be,” there was a pause as she calculated the length of time. “Approximately seven days and three hours—.”

“I don’t see the problem,” I interrupted. “Was that the only thing you—.”

“If you’d let me finish, Myrlin,” her tone was laced with mana, enough so to put me right in my place. 

“Yes ma’am,” I replied with my head in shame. 

“Now, it will be seven days and three hours if you’re Time Perception is set for hTraé’s dilation,” she remarked, suddenly another window appeared and revealed the amount of time it would take with our perception set to Earth’s Dilation. “It would take two hundred years for you to regain your strength and mana levels back to your original base state.”

Seven Grand Scales spells left, I have to use them tactically if I want the outcome I desire, I thought, although there was no real need to think since Mattia has the ability to read my mind. “Mattia, what is your estimate on the ships’ time of departure,” I inquired. 

There was another loading window that appeared and almost immediately it finished and showed a count down timer of the ships’s departure times. “Approximately five hours from now,” her tone dropped and more accurately reflected the seriousness of the situation. “I would suggest sacrificing eight of the ships due to the amount of captives onboard and each of your limited Cache levels,” I could tell she didn’t want to come to the conclusion, but I knew exactly where she was coming from, however that didn’t keep me from lashing out. 

“Absurd! You wish to let eight ships filled with roughly four hundred captives each traverse the Atlantic Ocean where two-thirds of them will surely meet their demise,” I scolded, however it wasn’t like I had a point to make. I understood her reasoning and logic behind the decision; every thing was calculated down to the approximate likely outcome, including our own survival. 

“Is your tantrum done, Master,” Mattia asked, by the sound of her voice I could tell she wanted to move forward with her next suggestion. “If so, I do have a plan for you and the other heirs upon regaining your Cache Levels,” her words piqued my interest. 

To be continued...