by K R Leikvoll
The heat from the air drew my attention to the desolate waste before me. It was a vast desert with sparsely worn structures. Sand did not crash through the air in a storm; rather, flakes of fire cascaded into my almost invisible form. The burn marks the lashes left were not as painful as I may have once considered them. I simply covered my face and trenched even deeper into the wasteland.
Bone naga roamed the dunes, tearing holes in the sand and space wherever they saw fit. They were captivating creatures, with bare skulls as heads, glowing the crimson hue that colored Violence from their eye sockets. Despite their vicious movements to disturb those wandering the desert endlessly, they never attempted to cross my path. Even some of the most fearsome beasts in the Void regarded me as their authority. In fact, their tunneling somewhat coincided with the shadows, leading in lines to a stone doorway.
Instead of flames swirling in a vortex, clouded storms of ice, or mere darkness, it looked like a colossal mirror. It was collecting the cinders of fiery air and redistributing the light so brightly it might be blinding to anyone but myself. When I searched for the shadows to show me the way, they had dispersed. Even the whispers in my mind had ceased. I held my ghostlike hand against my reflection, watching it disappear instead of the glass being solid. With no hesitation, I stepped through the gateway and out of my home dimensions.
At first it seemed as though nothing existed at all. I had wandered into absolute emptiness. It was not chilled like Treachery, nor was it causing me any sort of unrest. I simply floated, unable to see anything. That was until I was greeted by Lord Nakarius.
His central, third eye opened and stared back at me, ending my mild confusion. I was so near, I could reach out to touch it if I chose to. It was the same shade as the boiling river of blood, glistening brightly as a star of pure malice. He was the Lord of Wrath and Violence, but he did not hold those emotions for me.
Instead, his low voice said, “We did not expect to see you back so soon, prophet.”
I did not respond, for there were no words to say. I needn’t explain the details of choosing to go the Void rather than endure burning alive. Nor did my God need to hear any explanations from me. His statement was purely that – a statement – and so I let my silence be.
“It saves us the effort of trying to reach you. This time is as good as any to discuss what Naazvaba as agreed upon,” he continued, despite me not being entirely sure of what he was going to say. I still refused to feel fear. I had long awaited this moment of being given the opportunity to speak to someone of my greatest question.
“What is my purpose?” I asked Lord Nakarius, truly wishing to know the point of all I had tolerated to become what I was. A small flash of his titan-sized teeth came into view when he reacted to my words.
“Vincent has gotten out of hand, as you have noticed. His desire to create the Nephilim turned him against himself and the Void. A weapon such as that could be used to eradicate the Imperium in this plane and the next – entirely invaluable and dangerous in the hands of our enemies… and now, Vincent is among them. It was short-sighted to think evil would not ultimately betray evil.
“When he started to block our communication to the realm of Praetis, we knew that he had realized the full potential of a Nephilim. He continues toward the goal of creating that weapon, but for a different purpose than what he was instructed. Lord Baelarius has foreseen the signs; he wishes to destroy both the Void and the Imperium. Imagine the damage that could be done to your universe under his rule. It would keep the Vast Dark from completing its expansion and we cannot allow that to happen.”
I was not surprised remotely that Vince was considered a traitor to Naazvaba, through and through. He had never been the type of person to believe someone was above him – not even his demonic mother, Lilith, or the Void Lords. Azotl itself was just some idea or concept, despite the fact that he had seen the Vast Dark with his own eyes. How foolish he was for believing himself greater than such a force! A flush of anger enveloped me at the thought of him betraying his own kind. He was supposed to be the guide of the darkness in our realm, but he decided on being the leader instead. So greedy for power and knowledge, he was willing to turn his back on the source of his own essence. I did not understand his mind or reasoning for such a suicidal, eternal mistake.
“So, I am to destroy him?” I whispered, instantly feeling the gravity of my words. In the Void, free of his influence, it once again seemed like an easy decision to make. I knew when I returned home that it would feel like an impossible task with the bond’s nearly irresistible hold on me. I knew why they had chosen that as my test. It was in front of me the entire time.
“It is a mere piece, prophet. Naazvaba will never put reliance on one plan. Not only must you destroy Vincent and Praetis, but you are the one that must protect Lord Baelarius and the Vast Dark. None have the capacity beyond you. You will embody me and keep all from disturbing the realm of Treachery,” Lord Nakarius replied. His two other crimson eyes opened, all stared through me. It was impossible to lie or hide my thoughts when faced with a being as powerful as Lord Nakarius.
“How can I possibly achieve these things? He is too strong,” I said, stating the obvious.
“For now. Your first task is simple – gather power through sacrifice. I will see Vincent’s actions through you and we will strike him down when it is opportune.”
My mind betrayed me, for I spoke without being able to help it. It was as if the words were pulled from my thoughts without my consent.
“And what do I get in return? The realm of Treachery is far from Dys,” I replied, crossing my arms uncomfortably. I did not relish the thought of living in an icy tomb for all of eternity.
“Whatever you wish. Your deepest desire is yours.”
Every possibility in existence traversed through my imagination. I did not truly know what my deepest desires were at that time. I simply remained frozen, working through the endless possibilities. Did I want power? Did I want useless wealth? What did I want? Nothing came to mind.
“Let me show you,” Lord Nakarius said graciously.
A vortex in the darkness twisted and began to form an inescapable black hole. I reached out to not be sucked into a dimension even further from home, but it was no use. My God’s eyes grew distant until they were out of sight. Where was I bound to go if I did not know what my deepest desire was?
When I dared to peek at my endless surroundings, I found that I was not in the Void at all. I let out a small gasp of confusion and understanding when I recognized where I was. Or faintly recognized, I should say. I was standing on a white balcony overlooking a forested grove of ba’ya. In the distance, the black tides of the sea crashed against the shore. Marble structures lined the trees like I was back home in A’roha, but there was something different about it. The gown I was wearing, colored like a brilliant sunset, was closer to the design nobles wore in the Evyan capital, Ambryss. Even the furniture in the open room I was in was done in a southern Evyan style, different from the crude, wooden works of northern A’roha. In truth, I had no idea where I was. All I knew was an intense feeling of peace as I gazed at Asinea and Azra in the sky.
“Where are we?” a voice asked in the stillness, startling me.
It was Vincent, and yet it was not. He looked strangely normal. His eyes were no longer black and red – they were the light orange I normally associated with Femorans. His teeth were not as sharp as they were before, nor was he dressed in anything extravagant. He wore simple dark gray robes. Even his skin was filled with more color than normal.
His expression was oddly calm and curious, but the dark shadow that radiated from his being was gone, as it was from me. My flesh was tanned as if I had never become a demon. The only thing that proved the Void still existed was the sigil marking my stomach. He took my hand in his and looked at the beautiful view of the cosmos.
“We’re home,” I replied breathlessly. I understood now – this would be my gift for doing what I was instructed. A place
where I could be where I truly wished to be.
Free.
If time passes significantly slower in the Void, realms created inside the Void must be infinitely slower. When I first encountered shadows in my paradise, I had almost forgotten about the Vast Dark, Naazvaba, Praetis and my demonic kin. Day after day, year after year, I spent in that dreamland with my Master, living in true peace. There were no other beings besides us. There was no famine, no war, no suffering. Only my eternal love for this false-version of Vincent I had created in my imaginary world. I did not mind it was not him, nor did I mind that I was not living in a true reality. In fact, had the shadows never come to retrieve me, I would have ceased to remember anything existed before that beautiful place.
“Do we have a deal?” the dark voice of Lord Baelarius whispered.
A wispy, clothlike scroll was unrolled at my feet; a quill formed in my hands. Vince did not question it. Rather, he seemed as if he wanted me to sign my name and life away. For him, for the sake of my freedom, for everything I desired, I knew what I had to do.
I scratched my name down – the only name I felt dear to: “Lazarus Lyon.”
The moment my hand left the paper, everything began to melt and dissolve. It was being ripped from me, one piece at a time. I was left puzzled and in a state of unrest, feeling my sacred lover pulled from my hands as I grew further away from my dreams.
I was faced with the eyes of Lord Nakarius once more, whom only glanced down at me expectantly. I did not know how to respond beyond whispering I would do all that they asked in exchange to go back to that land free of pain and strife. His large smile greeted me, satisfied and all-knowing.
“Your coven is trying to bring you back to the realm of the living, but your soul has been severed for far too long,” he said matter-of-factly. When I glanced down, I was as transparent as a ghost. I could not feel the line connecting me back to Praetis remotely. It was the reason so many before me never dared to spend too long in the Void without keeping track of time. I started to accept the idea that I had lost my only opportunity to free myself when my God said, “I will enter your soul and take you back, Lazarus. We will crush our foes, and you will get what you so desire, but never forget who you serve, or we shall forget you.”
And so, I accepted the Lord of Wrath and Violence into my being, damning myself forevermore.
PART TWO:
WAR
THE DARK ESSENTIA
The journey from the Void back to the land of the living was one I thought I would never make again. How could I go back to normal after the centuries I had endured in an alien realm? The crimson tunnel through time and space was foreign, though I faintly recalled that I had traversed that way before. Despite my grief to have been taken away from my holy sanctum of freedom, I could only focus on the future – what I needed to do to return to what I lost. I don’t believe at that time I remembered being locked in a trunk and buried, nor my demonic coven. It had been so long that everything I had gone through in the Everglade, my trials and my Dark Sacrament felt more like a far-off dream.
Vincent knew better than to have a sacrifice-starved demon awaken with no prey. When my soul returned into my body, I found myself to be in a deep basin of warm blood. The flames had returned, yet it was not as unbearable as before. I would have expected the opposite. My eyes scanned my surroundings for any signs of friend or foe. I was in another subterranean basement room barren of everything but a few lit torches.
And so, I drank.
The sensation of the flames dwindling is one that every demon adores. I do not know how many sacrifices it took to fill the stone pool I was in, but each one was as needed as the next. As a mortal, I might have been sick after a few too many servings. As a higher being, I could drink forever. I understood those guilty of sacrifice gluttony as I devoured bowl after bowl. It tasted divine, though it was likely the blood of prisoners or peasants. I loved the feeling of power and strength that it gave me. I could conquer the planet with how much energy I had.
When my Master’s shadows joined the room, one might think I would have either attacked him out of fury for his actions or perhaps be overwhelmed by our blood bond. Neither crossed my mind. That is not to say that I did not feel our bond, but Lord Nakarius’ presence in my soul made it easier to ignore. My heart did ache at his demonic face – so different from the companion that had stayed by my side for years in my paradise.
He was cautious; I sensed it immediately. Between the possibility of still being upset, and the Titan dwelling within me, he did not approach the empty basin I was resting in. Instead, he glowered from the corner, watching for any hint of aggression. I was so detached from reality after all of my trauma that I could hardly muster the energy to attack him. I was still relearning how to exist in the third dimension.
“I would almost think you were Femoran with how gloriously you were reborn in flames. I nearly don’t recognize you,” Vince dared to say in a sweet tone. Even though it sounded like a compliment, there were layers of cruelty in his remark. He held a towel and a pitcher of steaming water out to me at a distance. It floated in the air into my grasp. He was still tentative to trust me.
I did not respond to his attempts to bring down my wall, though he tried. Demonic sight revealed that his aura and spells were not as invisible as my mortal eyes thought. The soothing magic radiating from his chest was cerise-shaded and traceable as it drifted through the air in my direction. He was doing all he could to manipulate me into forgiving him. It was hard not to; I had to be vigilant in reminding myself that he was not the man I had spent forever with.
I patiently washed the blood from my skin and hair, choosing to take my time to my Master’s obvious irritation. The formality of the silver Dryad hide draped around his shoulders meant he had something planned, and that it was likely winter. How long had I been trapped in that box beneath the ground?
When I finally stood and felt ready to leave, he presented me with robes. They were expensive and likely from Evya, but belongings no longer gave me a sense of satisfaction or gratification – they were simply things. Reluctantly, I allowed Vince to fuss with me until he decided I was good enough to be seen by others. A long duration of torture was not good for public appearances.
“That will have to do, I suppose. You used to be beautiful,” he said with a despondent sigh, staring into me with a hint of disappointment. Such sharp words could have destroyed me emotionally if I still cared about his opinion. My numb hands brushed his cheek; he did not feel like the same man I knew before I became a demon, either.
There was something different. His personality felt barbed, as though he was keeping absolutely everything at bay where it wouldn’t be a threat. Though not a single line marked his face with worry or stress, it was piled on his shoulders. His usually tall stance was slightly more inward than normal like he was carrying boulders on his back. The typical tidiness of his hair and nails were lacking. Even his eyes, as hard to read as they were, showed sleep deprivation. I would have felt bad for him, but those days had long passed.
I kissed him. Some part of his magic or the bond dictated that it was what I wanted. Perhaps our time apart had caused some sort of strain on him, whether he would have admitted it or not. He held me close and we had our moment, but it was nothing like before. The mysterious forces that linked us together were not strong enough to defeat the disdain we were beginning to feel for each other. Our union was already under pressure and it had only just begun.
“We have two very important visitors that arrived yesterday. I didn’t want to meet them without the Queen’s presence. That would be terribly rude, don’t you think, beloved?”
My stare – filled with my longing for him to cease his endless games – replied for me. No other words needed to be spoken on the matter. Whatever social event he planned on ushering me into was all for show, anyway. Why should I care for the nonsense of political games when I was going to sacrifice them all in the end? Nevertheless, I still followed him up w
inding staircases and through the main hallways to the throne room.
As he said, there were indeed two visitors awaiting us, and they could not have been further apart in appearance. First, my eyes wandered to a being that stood nearly twenty feet tall – quite possibly the tallest person that existed on Praetis. Her long, snowy hair hung all the way down to the floor. The glass-like texture of her bluish skin looked as ancient as it did fragile. Even the sheer gown she wore was bizarre – it appeared to be a part of her flesh rather than an article of clothing. Despite those strange features, none were as otherworldly as the legs that grew from her spine. They were red and sharp like weapons, yet they twitched and moved around as if they were actually a part of her. I had never seen anything of the sort, but my time spent in the Void made her presence ordinary.
The other was a woman, though she was easily the grandest person I had ever come into contact with. Her eyes were fiery orange; her skin was the ashen gray shade of most Femorans. She wore the finest clothing I had ever seen – it was a gown made almost entirely of charcoal colored feathers. The feathered headdress that sat on her elegant head was crafted with magical gemstones and with more care than anything existing in Praetisian history. Though not all had laid their eyes on Queen Alexis of Femora, all had heard tales of her grandeur and grace. As one can imagine, I was quite confused to see dark crimson lines binding her to Sendrys, who was doing her best to provide some sort of hospitality.
“Oh, Alexis, I feel I haven’t seen your beauty in a century,” Vincent said to her as charming as could be. The prestigious Queen narrowed her eyes and frowned.
“Nearly, but I have not come for pleasantries. I have come for answers.”
My Master glanced at Sendrys and took note that there would be no lying with her present. The giant being showed the same sort of concern as Queen Alexis, but she was busying herself with holding Guinevere in an embrace. I would have never let such a creature put me in that sort of precarious situation. At any moment her limbs could impale the golden-haired demon and tear her to pieces. Their visible demonic bond was one of the brighter ones, and it was perhaps the only occasion I had witnessed Guinevere at peace.