Free Demon Singer by Benjamin Nichols

muscular?  Land’s sakes you’re gonna make a fine lookin’ man when you grow up, child.”
    Acheron was quietly backing away.
    “Don’t you move, you hussy.” Aunt Bea snapped at Acheron.
    “Careful, old lady, you might hurt a girl’s feelings.”  Acheron shot back.
    “Girl?” Aunt Bea sniffed, “you’re as a much a girl as I am.”
    Lyric looked back and forth between the two in confusion.  He had grown up climbing Aunt Bea’s trees with his little sister, eating fruit, enjoying her pies and hot cocoa in the winter months.  She was a harmless, crazy old lady with magical treats, an understanding ear and great stories.  Now here she was scolding a demon who was as old as creation.  Was the whole world going crazy?
    Acheron swept a hand down her body and her tight leather was replaced with a stunning deep blue velvet evening gown that hugged her sleek body, decked with tiny dazzling jewels.  The addition of matching gloves that went above her elbows left very little skin exposed. Where before she was the embodiment of sex appeal, now she was painfully beautiful.  The knot in Lyric's back twisted and in disgust, he realized he could not deny it was desire.
    “Well, at least it’s an improvement."  Aunt Bea sniffed and turned back to Lyric to appraise him more carefully.  "Oh, my poor sweet innocent boy, you've grown up, haven't you?"  A gentle sadness softened her stern expression.  "The years fly so quickly now, don't they child?  Your innocence is gone, and we can never get it back now can we?  I'm so sorry." Tears threatened the old woman's eyes. "Wait!" She dug through her large canvas bag for a moment before crowing triumphantly. "Would you like some jam?  It's from my very last batch."  She produced a jar filled with red memories of Lyric's boyhood.
    Lyric sternly reminded himself to stay on task.
    "Actually, Aunt Bea, I was hoping you could tell me if anything strange has occurred around here or in town lately."
    "Well, none of the children have come to see me in a few weeks now.  I've been terribly lonely."  She gazed off in the direction from which they had come, her eyes seeming to see farther than Lyric could.  "I think I'll be leaving for a while.  Maybe I'll return someday." It seemed like Bea was talking to herself.  Impulsively, Lyric questioned his childhood mentor.
    "Aunt Bea, have you ever heard of the Prophet Man?"
    "Oh heavens, what do you want with that crazy old coot?"  Aunt Bea rolled her eyes and started walking into the orchard, her hobble oddly absent.  
    "You know him? Do you know where I can find him?" Lyric asked eagerly following the old lady.
    "Lyric, prophets are rare and wondrous creatures.  They also tend to be somewhat terrifying.  You’re all grown up now, and I can't stop you from looking for him, but you need to know... he's been touched."
    Lyric barely registered Acheron’s quiet intake of breath at the word.
    "Touched?"
    Aunt Bea sighed, dug one of her hard sugar free candies from the bag, and offered it to him.  Lyric accepted it automatically with a polite "thank you" and Acheron smirked in the background at this insight into Lyric’s history.
    “The story is that the Prophet Man desperately sought the Composer, wanting to know Him.  So earnest was his desire that he was visited by the Voice in a dream.  They sang together and the Prophet Man was able to understand the song.  The Voice asked him what he would ask for and the Prophet Man asked for wisdom and power.  Wisdom was given to him and tremendous power.  He became a soul singer.” Lyric started at this revelation, not realizing Aunt Bea had heard of the soul singers.  He wondered briefly where his adopted Aunt had heard this story, Aunt Bea continued, not noticing his reaction.  “soul singers are a secret organization of men and women who work in service to the Composer.  No one knows much of anything about them.  In fact, only a handful of people seem to know they exist