Who Is That in the Water? (1/1)

Imugi had come to know the Namekians through chance encounters in their relatively long life. They’d hesitate to have ever called it a pleasure, especially given their recent meeting with Gandigan, but they generally seemed a hardy and wise people. So placated, though. Besides the errant Mazoku who’d stumbled their way into the Demon Realm, who were always a treat to ‘welcome’. But that was beside the point. Why was it that the Namekians, strong in body and mysticism, seemed to have such little presence in the galaxy? Given the same power, demons had an endless hunger to dominate, empower themselves, or to be known. Imugi may have loathed conquerors, but they themself had known such hunger before they’d been starved. So where was it here?

As it turned out, the people of Namek seemed to have little to hunger for. When first stepping out from Hell and onto the planet’s grassy hills, Imugi noticed the change in the air instantly. An absence. No ash, blood or dust on the wind, and seldom a sound besides nature’s idle chatter. They spotted the vast ocean immediately from wherever it was they’d wound up. They stopped to admire it as if possessed by the steady waters, long enough to have gathered the attention of some locals. Having approached the strange visitor from their blindspot, one might have placed the fault on them for startling Imugi. Though maybe a slash across the chest was an overreaction, it was truly just reflexive.

Not wanting to stick around and reap the consequences of that action, Imugi had fled from the pair swiftly, self-assured that the wounded Namekian could surely regenerate. Assuming they hadn’t gone into shock… Maybe the other had been a healer, they were fairly certain some could do that. Regardless, had they any desire to catch Imugi, the demon’s undetectably weak life energy and headstart had already cost them the chance. Flying low to the next island over, Imugi coasted along the shore until finding somewhere that seemed nice and secluded to set down.

Sitting down on the grass, Imugi eyed the purple blood dripping along their sword distastefully. Why had the idiots approached them? Grumbling in annoyance, the water responded by rippling outward from Imugi. Looking up at the movement, the demon shuffled over, willing the surface to still, using what pittance of their old magic remained. The clear water obeyed them, flattening to a mirror face and reflecting Imugi’s visage. They stared into the singular, orange reptilian eye unblinking. Even after years of agonizing, their eye should have been the same as it had always been, but they recognized none of the perception and power it once held. Only the weariness.