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Demon Chronicles, Part 3

Part 3 of the story of a demon on earth

By ShaydePublished 12 months ago 29 min read
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IV

When I finally stood up and my mind had mostly recovered I thought about what to do next. I wasn’t yet hungry so I wouldn’t need to hunt for a while. The humans that inhabit this place certainly sent the shadow demon, and once they find out it had failed in its mission I could expect more attempts to banish me. This demon was very powerful and I had barely managed to survive; hopefully that was the strongest weapon in their arsenal.

So I had to prepare. I wasn’t about to flee this cave, it was the only place I could ever truly call my own. It was the only spot I could find that both overlooked the surrounding land and provided cover to hide away during the day’s brightest hours. Besides, where else would I go? Anywhere nearby, except for maybe the forest, would be within sight of the humans. I couldn’t go to the forest. I had no place among the animals and disgusting displays of green life, especially when trees would hinder my sight and leave me vulnerable to attack. I would also have no choice but to rest in the open, away from the dark, quiet confines of my cave. So no, I would stay put.

But how could I prepare? I would find no allies in this world, and couldn’t make defenses for one demon to use if I was busy fighting off a swarm of humans. No, if it came to battle it would be the strength of my body that carried me to victory or let me descend back to the fiery abyss.

With grim resignation I abandoned my thoughts of future battles, and focused on my cave. I might as well leave my mark on this world, something tangible to stubbornly hold onto my presence, even if my enemies succeeded in bringing me down. I remembered my days of servitude, how the greater demons were able to hold on to territory and claim it as their own. They would cut designs and scenes of grotesque, beautiful horror into the rock faces, marking where their domain began.

And so I began the long work of carving out my place in this mountain. I would make the entrance and walls less jagged and sharp to create a smooth canvas on which to carve. Around the entrance I would fashion skulls and scenes of death to allow any visitors to be aware of their impending doom. Across one of the walls I would create scenes of battle, of the never-ending war between legions of demons in Hell. A reminder of what I had escaped, and why I couldn’t allow myself to be dragged back. On the back of the wall, across from the entrance, I would create a massive depiction of my face, hideous jaw open in a never ending roar. It had to be large enough that the mouth would look like it was consuming most of the room, so that any who enter may be shown their fate. The second side of the cave would show the terror I wreaked among the humans with my endless hunger. I would be shown facing an army, men flying through the air and fleeing in terror as I grabbed those closest to me to feast on their souls. My resting boulder would be broken apart into a sort of rectangular bed on which I could hide out and avoid the sun’s glare. The stalactites and stalagmites scattered throughout the cavern I would keep, enjoying the shadows they cast about the room and the threatening atmosphere they created. All of this would take weeks to accomplish, and I knew that from there I would only continue to grow my carvings. Perhaps this entire side of the mountain would be covered in my designs and scenes of battle and death one day. I had just begun to carve though, and it was a long, painstaking process.

____________________________________________________

Fire choked, the air, red and yellow flames concealing the world behind a haze of smoke. Dark stones surrounded me on all sides, as did bodies-countless bodies. All of them demons, as if some great war had culminated in a final battle here where none had survived. Dark bloodstains covered the stone beneath the field of corpses, which stretched as far as the eye can see in every direction. Despite my size I felt tiny, insignificant among such truly endless death.

Before me the rocks gradually sloped upwards in an ever-steepening slope, creating a volcano-shaped spire with a jagged path beaten into its side. As the elevation grew higher, so too did the density of the bodies. Small piles formed in various places as the red rock gave way to a ground made of red, motionless flesh. As my eyes followed the grisly scene up the mountain of death before me, the smoke and haze began to give way and reveal more and more. The path zigzagged back and forth, growing smaller with every turn, bodies everywhere, until at the top…

There He was. Abaddon himself, King of this plane of hell. Wreathed in smoke and flames, what little of his body could be seen made it clear that he was terrifyingly huge-he could crush me underneath his feet if he so chose. Demons know no fear, and yet seeing this beast that promised death brought terror to my soul. He was seated atop a massive throne of skeletons and corpses in various states of decay that filled the entire top of this cursed mountain. Every instinct screamed to run, but something about His deadly gaze kept me rooted in place. His skin was dark red, almost black with rough scales and his face looked like a twisted combination of dragon, goat and wolf.

As he stared directly at me I was filled with dread; I knew we were likely the only living creatures for miles around. I had heard tales of Abaddon during my time in slavery, a lord of war who had ruled this plane for thousands of years, destroying any who attempted to take His spot on the throne. The tales did nothing to describe what sat above me. He then began to speak, though his mouth did not move. With an impossibly deep and thunderous voice that shook the land, it was as if the world itself was speaking to me.

“COMMMEEE TOOOO MEEEEE,” He said as he raised an enormous muscular arm and pointed at me. I then began to grow hot, too hot. A burning pain filled my body as the flames grew in size until they consumed my entire world, scorching my body and turning it to ash.

____________________________________________________

Demons don’t dream. We have visions. Abaddon wanted me back in Hell, that much was clear. I shivered at the memory of standing before his power and brutality-I couldn’t allow myself to fall back to hell. It was rumored among the slaves that it is Abaddon who keeps us locked in hell, refusing to allow us the surface world. Whether true or not, he doesn’t like his subjects leaving, unless to reign terror on the humans and eventually be defeated, again returning to his domain. In his limitless power, the king of hell must’ve known that I didn’t intend to return. I shuddered to think of what this could mean for me. Though he has limitless enemies and those that wish to take power from him, Abaddon has entire armies of demons loosely under his command. If he truly is what holds us back from the surface world… there would be nothing stopping him from sending a horde of demons to bring me back if I didn’t comply. And I didn’t intend to. I had to believe that those stories weren’t true, but if the king of hell did want me back, I could expect him to come for me. He would likely send demons after me to kill me and bring me back, while humans attempted to hunt me down as well. My cave home would likely see many battles in the days to come.

With that thought came the clanking of metal on metal. Though the midday sun was out, I walked just out of the cave entrance to see what the noise was. A group of heavily armored humans, climbing up the treacherous mountainside to my cave. I smiled. “It’s about time,” I said to myself as I walked back inside. It had been three days since the demon attacked, and now these people thought they could finish what their shadow demon could not. Perfect timing; I was just starting to get hungry.

The sun was too bright for me to fly out and meet them, slaughtering them as they helplessly struggled on the mountainside in their armored suits. The wiser of them may have known that the sunlight pained me, and that I’d be blinded by the light of the sun if I stayed outside too long during the day’s middle hours. So I crept back into my cave, lurking in the shadows to meet them. I had smoothed a large portion of the wall but my work was far from complete. Perhaps I could use these foolish mens’ skeletons as decorations. For some reason, the thought momentarily bothered me. I remembered my endless fear when standing before Abaddon and the desperation as I was losing the battle against the shadow demon, and briefly thought of how similar these humans would soon feel. I was no shadow demon, and certainly not Abaddon, but I evoked a similar reaction through my brutality. I almost felt bad for them, trying to get rid of me so they could sleep soundly at night under the protection of their kingdom, sending these brave, stupid young men to their deaths in desperation. The same desperation for survival that forced me to feast on their souls.

I could not allow myself to think such ridiculous things, not with the enemy approaching my home. It was kill or be killed. I waited in the shadows as the clashing of metal plates grew nearer.

Within a few moments, the armored men began to make their way into my cave. I could tell they were nervous, cautiously stepping forward while glancing around the dark room in anticipation of my attack. They briefly looked at the smoothed walls, unaware of my masterpiece in the making. I waited for until they began to separate, eyes straining to see through the darkness of my domain. With a flap of my wings and push from my legs, I flew towards the closest man, talons prepared to rip him to shreds. An old man with a tall staff who I had not seen enter must’ve seen or heard me, because his fast reflexes allowed him to cast some sort of quick spell. Other hooded men reacted to his movements instantly, quietly mumbling some words and holding religious symbols in the air. I felt my approach slow rapidly until I hit some kind of barrier that filled the world before me in a blinding golden light. An intense burn ignited across my body and I recoiled in pain, retreating from the golden barrier that disappeared as I backed away.

The guards just in front of me were caught off guard by my quick assault, stumbling to the ground in fear as a massive, red-skinned demon halted its attack only inches from away. I hovered in the air for a moment, glaring at the wizard who clearly had created the barrier as his eyes met mine. He wore a shimmering cloak that resembled a starry night sky, with glowing dots like stars slowly moving across its fabric. The six hooded men, dressed in dark green robes and light leather armor, stood around him. Clearly religious men of some sort, their heads faced the ground as they held golden symbols of their gods before them, no doubt supporting the magic barrier that held me at bay.

“Why have you come to my home, wizard?” I demanded as my wings held me aloft, still ready for a fight. He chuckled softly before walking past his anxious soldiers to stand right in front of me, craning his neck to meet my eyes. “I come only to talk, but we are prepared to fight if that is your wish,” he replied. His voice was steady and calm, and he was the only man in the cave to not exchange nervous glances at the prospect of a battle with me. The room was quiet except for the whispering acolytes as I considered my options. There were a few dozen soldiers here; add a clearly powerful wizard and religious men who held some kind of mysterious power, and I would have a difficult battle on my hands.

“Very well,” I growled as I landed before him. “What have you come to say, mage?” I spat the last word with malice as I began to pace along the barrier, stalking my prey. What kind of coward sends a demon to kill me, comes with a small army to finish the job, and hides behind a magic barrier under pretenses of negotiation? I expected a fight and a meal, and now would have to waste my breath speaking to these tiny people before either.

“You can call me Corlan,” he said with a smile, seemingly oblivious to my intense glare. The men hiding behind him visibly relaxed, some removing their hands from the sheathed swords. The religious men, heads bowed, didn’t stop praying-the barrier was still up. “My Queen, Octavia of Hiraeth, requests an audience with you.”

“And what would this queen have to say to a demon? My kind are not known for negotiation,” I replied. He then motioned to the soldier closest to the cave entrance, who stepped out and returned moments later with a peasant, clearly a farmer from his rough appearance. Corlan asked him something before turning back to me.

“This man claims to have seen you a few nights ago. You left a baby at his house and fled. While we know you’ve slaughtered many during your brief stay, my queen seems to think that your mercy shows a capacity for reason.”

I smirked at this. “So now, after you send a shadow demon to destroy me, you realize you’ve underestimated me and now want peace. You people are pathetic,” I said.

Corlan took a moment to reply. “As I said before, we are happy to take down this barrier and fight if you wish. My queen wishes no further bloodshed, but the choice is yours. Will you meet with the queen or not?”

Though it angered me, I accepted that fighting here would only lead to a war I couldn’t win. Even if I could defeat an entire kingdom of humans, Abaddon’s agents would come for me sooner or later. Against both enemies I didn’t stand a chance. Perhaps these talks could lead to an ally against the King of Hell-an ally I would have to feast on to survive. I would tackle one problem at a time though, and for now that meant meeting this queen. “Yes, I’ll hear her pleas for peace,” I said.

“Good choice, demon,” Corlan replied. “Come to the entrance of the keep in our great city to the south, tomorrow at noon.” He turned to leave and the others began to follow, keeping a wary eye on me as they retreated into the sun’s domain. Corlan stopped and turned to me, asking, “one last thing. What shall I tell her majesty your name is?”

“Don’t,” I replied as I watched the humans leave my home.

V

I waited outside of the keep’s entrance for the queen to make her appearance. Her royal guards, holding massive halberds and wearing bulky armor lined in gold, filed out and took up positions around me, weapons held at the ready. I smirked as my immense size and threatening aura pierced their shiny armor. Underneath, they were still men, men visibly shaken at the sight of my massive wings, claws and teeth. After the denial of my meal yesterday, my hunger was beginning to grow, nagging at the edge of my thoughts.

Regular soldiers went about their usual business atop the walls or across the courtyard, all nervously glancing in my direction, while I was encircled by a growing number of royal guards. The queen finally made an appearance beside Corlan once I was surrounded by two dozen or so men. To the queen’s credit, she maintained her composure far better than her subjects, a brief widening of her eyes the only sign of her discomfort. Unusually tall for a human, she wore an ornate set of gold and red armor that was molded into a luxurious, flowing dress of silver chainmail. Silver inlays covered the armor and her tan skin and pitch black hair held her dark, determined eyes. A massive sword, nearly as long as her men’s two-handed halberds, hung at her waist-she was no doubt a formidable warrior. She then began to speak.

“Welcome to Hiraeth,” she said in a firm voice. “You are even larger than I had imagined. What should I call you?”

“Demon,” I growled as I eyed the guards surrounding me, some of which took a step back at my booming, commanding voice. So much potential food surrounded me, yet also a city’s worth of enemies and the threat of an endless war that I couldn’t win. I had to keep my hunger at bay, for now. Every instinct I had developed told me to either embrace a slaughter or leave this confrontation with so many enemies surrounding me. I quickly fought down the urge to flee to the shadows under so many eyes, also extinguishing the fire of battle that threatened to unleash my wrath on these people. “What have you called me here to say, Queen,” I said in mockery of the title.

She seemed to not notice or not care for my disrespect of her name as she responded evenly. “Very well, Demon. Corlan tells me you have defeated the shadow demon and slaughtered many of my subjects, yet also that you have saved a child. I was hoping that we could reach an agreement, something from which we could both benefit.”

“Making an ally with a demon?” I sneered. “You must be either foolish or fearful to trust me.”

“Neither,” she replied. “I simply don’t see any reason to waste more of my people’s life on exterminating a very large rodent.” She was bold; for a human, it was impressive to speak such words to a demon. “Besides, a war is brewing with neighboring Cadia, so I need all my kingdom’s power focused there.”

“I don’t care about your petty wars, mortal,” I said. “But trying to reach an agreement is pointless. This world pulls at my flesh as hell calls me back, and the only way I can remain here is by feasting on your fearful souls. My nature makes you a natural enemy, though I have enough problems without a war between us.”

She whispered a question to Corlan as he nodded gravely in response. They began to have a hushed conversation, no doubt trying to decide if anything was to be done. What fools. As I waited, I felt dozens of hostile eyes staring at me, burning my skin like the fires of hell. So I began to meet their gazes back, challenging them. When I was done every royal guard’s eyes were averted, unwilling to meet my threatening glare. It was many moments, but seemed like lifetimes due to the warlike tension in the air, before Queen Octavia finally spoke to me again.

“We have a proposal,” she said very slowly with a noticeable amount of uncertainty, as if she hadn’t made up her mind about what to say yet. You need humans to feast on, yet neither of us want a war. Perhaps there is a way…”

“And how is that? Please enlighten me,” I responded sarcastically.

“There are certain… undesirable characters in our empire that are straining our resources. Perhaps if we handed them over to you, they could cease to be an issue for us and you could stay on this plane. In exchange, we ask that you help us in the upcoming war.”

I smiled. Now this is what I was used to-immoral schemes and plays for the one thing everyone wants: power. “So you’d kill your own people just to avoid another enemy in your war.”

“Not only to avoid an enemy, but gain an ally,” she corrected. This would work well, better than I had imagined. I would no longer have to worry about battling Hiraeth for survival, and all I had to do was slaughter some puny mortals. I wouldn’t tell them of Abaddon’s agents that likely were coming for me, not yet, but perhaps Octavia would help me in defeating them as well. They were demons in the humans’ land, after all.

“I accept,” I said. “Bring a small group to my cave every day, but be warned: I haven’t eaten in days and if it takes you too long to deliver the doomed ones to me, I will have no choice but to obey my hunger.” I held out my long claws and took a menacing step forward, enjoying the guards’ nervous reactions as they stepped back in fear.

“Very well,” Octavia replied. “But Hiraeth will respond to your actions accordingly.” In response I pushed off the ground, leaping in the air to hover above the guards, wizard and queen below. Extending my wings to their full length, I looked down at the mortals as they gazed up at my power, weapons still held at the ready. Then, with a turn and flap of my wings, I was off, sailing over the city to return home. Everywhere I passed, the people below seemed to stop what they were doing to look up at me in wonder and horror. It was as if my presence froze the world below, showing the citizens how trivial their lives were in the presence of a demon. I almost felt bad for them, struggling to survive but ultimately powerless once a strong enough enemy entered their lives, an enemy who tore apart a life that took decades to build in an instant. This would be the fate of the enemies of Hiraeth, death at my hands outweighing any hopes or dreams, the futility of their lives becoming apparent. It seemed almost as pointless as the endless wars in hell, ultimately achieving nothing but death. That was war though, and war was coming. To earn my place on this earth, I had to be a soldier once again.

____________________________________________________

Days passed before I had my next vision. What I saw confirmed my fears; Abaddon’s minions were coming for me. I saw a tall demon made of bone protruding from torn, pale flesh, with torn wings and massive spikes of bone all across its body. I recognized it instantly: it was the demon that had nearly prevented my escape from hell, albeit much larger and even more grotesque. It had the mark of Abaddon on its chest, a layering of a small circle above an 8-pointed star, held by a much larger circle. Infernal runes and designs covered the space between, and it was clear that the mark was burned on.

This demon wasn’t alone, though. It was standing before a king and making some kind of deal. It must have somehow known of my alliance with Hiraeth and allied itself with its enemies to strike at me. The king was massive for a human, but tiny in comparison to the bony figure before him. This creature of hell stood head and shoulders above me, bringing its height to roughly fifteen feet. In my vision, within moments the demon turned away from the king to stare directly at me, smiling menacingly.

I woke immediately to rage and despair. I don’t know how it could see me, or how it could know of my human allies, but Abaddon had ensured that I wouldn’t enjoy my stay on earth. With new allies came new enemies, and I wasn’t sure that I could even defeat the towering mountain of jagged bone. My fists smashed into the wall, sending pieces of my finely smoothed wall flying across the cavern floor. My immense hunger only added to my anger. Regular groups of prisoners had been given to me to consume, but Corlan had said they needed more time to organize. That was days ago-I was done waiting, with a frenzied hunger burning through my body.

I didn’t enjoy killing these people. It seemed wrong to me-they had no weapons or ability to attempt an escape, brought in chains and latched to a wall with their heads covered. These people did not struggle, having accepted their grim fate as inevitable. Their fire of life had been extinguished, living a life of imprisonment before being brought here to die. Their resolve only made them less filling-fear gave me more energy, but these people had none. I didn’t know what their crimes were, but I found myself wishing they didn’t have to die for me to survive. If they fought me, or even fought their fate, it would be different; a struggle between two in which the more powerful won and claimed their prize. This was the slaughter of those already dead.

I banished these thoughts from my mind as I sped off towards the city, desperate for my next meal. I was avoiding the killing of farmers or others who were not delivered to me as I couldn’t afford to strain my alliance, not with our enemies gathering as they prepared for war. Before I reached the city, though, I saw something that exploded the fire inside me to new heights, fueling my anger: slaves. Dozens of them worked outside the city walls, building siege engines and catapults, overseen by guards with whips. I furiously beat my wings as I flew like a comet to the keep’s entrance, terrifying the nearby guards as I ordered them to get the queen.

Octavia soon appeared with Corlan and a few guards, visibly frustrated with my sudden appearance. “Where are the prisoners?!” I demanded, shaking the ground and conquering the air with my voice. “It’s been days, I can’t wait any longer.”

Taking a moment to recover after the shock of my wrath, the queen replied. “They are on their way. You have taken the worst of the criminals, and we are having those from neighboring regions transported here as we speak. It will not be long, maybe a day or two at most.”

My voice was fire and venom as I responded. “I can’t wait that long. Send me more by the end of the day or I will be forced to give in to my hunger.” She stared at me a moment before I continued, “And those slaves I saw outside your walls: release them immediately.”

“You come here and make demands, demon, but this is my land and I am the queen. I offered a truce as a courtesy, but perhaps that was a mistake.”

“Do what you want, queen, but keep those slaves and I will become your enemy as well. By the way, your enemy now has a powerful demon in its ranks. It would be a shame to see hordes of your men be slaughtered needlessly without me there to stop it.”

Her face paled as she whispered to Corlan. He nodded and closed his eyes, casting some quick spell. He then responded to her and she turned towards me. “We need those slaves to prepare for the war.”

“I have lived in slavery for most of my life,” I growled. “And I will not allow you to force others into the same fate. You don’t need them-find someone else to build your pathetic machines of war. Refuse, and you will find yourself facing two demons.”

Octavia glared at me, but understood that she didn’t have a choice. The prospect of facing me in addition to her enemies was too dangerous for any reasonable ruler to stomach. “Fine,” she spat. “You will have more prisoners by nightfall, and the slaves will be released.”

“Good,” I said, and without warning I grabbed the nearest guard and drank his soul. I eyed the other guards and prepared to fight as they began to react before Octavia’s raised hand put a stop to their actions. My hunger faded substantially, and I could return to my cave without wasting away before nightfall. I was ready to fight, but was confident she'd allow the death of one soldier to prevent a battle that would kill many others. She understood my hunger and her desperation. “Smart choice, queen," I sneered as I flew back to my home.

VI

My cave’s wall carvings were coming along nicely. I had fully smoothed the walls once more after my aggressive assault the day before, and had begun the larger designs. Octavia had honored her promise and sent me more prisoners the night before, which I regrettably had to slaughter. Bones of the prisoners sent to me over the days now littered my cave’s floor beneath my ghastly art. I had chosen to start by working on the furthest wall from the entrance. I would create a massive image of myself, from floor to ceiling, about twice my height. First I began to carve out the outline; myself, gazing menacingly at the entrance, wreathed in the fires of hell and surrounded by skulls. I might even add a human or two, fleeing from my power. After the initial carving was complete, I planned to use my black blood to create dark lines and make the drawing more visible, especially in the low light. Anyone who entered my cave would know my power.

It was during my second day of creating the outline of my body that I had visitors. A few dozen thin men with a rugged appearance and tattered clothes shambled into my cave just before sundown, seemingly immune to the fear that so many others felt in my presence. Upon asking what they wanted, the tall man who led them told me that they were slaves of the queen until recently, freed by my “kindness”. After slavery, they refused to live in the kingdom that kept them imprisoned, but had nowhere else to go. Then they did something very strange; they all knelt down and started praising me. They thanked me as their savior, and soon began to worship me as a hero. I had never experienced anything like this before, but it was somehow comforting-these people praised my actions rather than shunned me for my nature.

They asked if they could stay with me, despite the bones littering the ground and the knowledge that I could slaughter them at any time, without any fear of a response from Hiraeth. Enjoying the praise and thankfulness of these people, I allowed them to stay. Within my cave, they began to make rows of small, makeshift shacks using wood from the forest below. They aligned these shacks to the sides of the cave, leaving the middle and entrance of the cave open, also keeping them about 10 feet from my rock and the far wall. Rock formations scattered in front of the shacks left a slight barrier between their lodgings and my area, almost as if they were different rooms in a cavernous house.

And that’s when my home began to change in its appearance. Before long, the peoples’ praise turned into worship, adoring me as some kind of divine being. I was a demon, and here I was being viewed as a god. They built shrines to either side of my resting stone, and someone knelt at each one praying at all hours. The shrines were made of the bones of the prisoners I devoured, for these prisoners were of a nation that was an enemy to my people, and so they adored me for the killing. These poor people had clearly lost their minds to slavery-with nothing else in this world to cling to, they threw all of their hopes and beliefs into the single symbol of a better life they had: me. I remember how slavery felt, and how I was willing to give anything to be free and have my own life, but these people took that feeling to the extreme. After all, they had a few decades more to live at most, so any loss of their time as slaves hurt them far more than for me, who had virtually limitless time. As they continued to worship me, I noticed a strange change in my needs. I found myself less hungry, able to last longer on fewer souls. It was as if their worship and gratitude battled with the will of hell to keep me on earth.

Apart from their grisly shrines, these cultists were incredibly productive thanks to their time as slaves, when not keeping up with work meant death. First they carved the path leading to my cave into stone stairs, with easy access to the forest below for wood, food and water. They then began to create their own artwork on one side of the cave, using the forest’s resources to create colorful depictions of worship. Where my drawing was black, grim and intimidating, theirs was colorful and showed me in a glowing light atop a mountain, surrounded by an army of bowing disciples. They also began to carve the outside of my cave entrance, making various symbols and designs and cutting at the edges to make it straight and smooth. They were unleashing the artists inside of themselves that were stolen from them during their time as slaves, and I didn’t mind-we had little direct interaction, and I had a new, reliable source of energy.

As news of my demands to the queen spread, more people began to join this little cult following. Whether rejected by their communities, in conflict with the authorities, or down on their luck, more people came to me and saw me as a second chance, protecting them from the empire that surrounded them. I laughed at the absurdity of it; the piles of bones grew, but so did the community. They couldn’t all fit in my cave, so the new arrivals began to build a small village at the base of the steps leading to my lair. They created their own economy, supplying themselves with food, water and shelter from the forest beyond Hiraeth’s territory. All the while my cave’s art grew and evolved, and I relied on prisoners’ souls for my energy less and less.

But this simple, peaceful life would not last forever. I knew war was coming, and soon the day would come that Octavia and Corlan called for me, pulling me from my work and new community to once again fight in an endless battle to remain here.

Fantasy
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Shayde

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