“In the depths of time, when time was not time, I came to exist. Perhaps this was the greatest irony ever committed in the history of creation. Perhaps this was the ultimate mistake of the gods. Perhaps it was also a way of mocking my destiny. Still, I was. Even today, I am.”

  I cough against the floor. I feel my throat burning alongside my lungs . My blurred vision struggles to adapt to the sunlight, my ear tingles. I taste iron, burning and-

  Pain. My broken fingers are gangrenous and throbbing in deep pain. I try to scream, but my throat has long since lost its voice. I feel worms crawl inside my ear and I squirm against the floor. Soon, I realize that my eyelids have been torn off and that I can no longer blink.

  Laughter.

  Why are you laughing?

  “The First, the greatest of all, helped the gods create the world—and was disgusted by their tyrannical audacity not to sit on his ultimate, divine throne. He fought the first war in rebellion, and I, the demonic Lion, devoured him, for his heart was as mine is. Then, in a village in the middle of nowhere, with superstitious primates, a third being had been born according to our heart.”

  I feel the coldness of the cave rocks scrape against my flayed skin. Blood clings to the stones and sends shocks of agony down my spine. Scorching rays of sunlight blister my skin, but even the bottom of the prison is illuminated.

  Prison. In front of me, thick iron bars prevent me from leaving. Even if they didn't, the people laughing and whispering outside the bars wouldn't let me out.

  Pain snaps. I roar without a voice again. A stone falls against the ground and makes my chest burn.

  Stone…?

  Pain snaps. Another impact. My head bleeds. Another, another and another. Rocks pile up on me as soon as I stand up. I defend myself with my arms, but they stop working as soon as I hear them break.

  “A demon had taken a woman. The creature tore open her womb and crawled out and, although it didn't kill her, it left irreparable consequences. It was said he had white hair deep, blue eyes. A tragedy, a curse that came throught the world and was unpleasant to even think about, ignored and hated by every peasant. It was not enough to punish It, but a step closer.”

  More stones. Knives and metal pierce my skin and throw me against the wall of the cage. Rotting clothes and fallen teeth are ripped out by the wounds, which are getting worse every day. The sun burns my flesh. My flesh opens to the bone. Wound, pain, and agony. Breathing is like swallowing glass—screaming is like clawing at my throat.

  “From early age, the child started killing insects. Then animals. It started to hunt, not for food, but for fun, with increasing proficiency. But not the type of fun hunters have, the glory of fighting of a mighty beast—no. It was something else. Something that scared them. The acts stopped once the child have gained a conscience, but It was already too late. It was already enough. Enough so that It could carry the weight of death, in the view of scared peasants. It’s strangeness and lack of importance made the child a target. The boy was condemned to serve as a scapegoat for the sins of the village, and their evil was transfered to him, and he suffered for them.”

  The apathy of trauma comes as a response. Unable to process the suffering, my face freezes.

  Still, I remain alive.

  “It was a demon, after all.”

  In front of the crowd, the Lion's shadow protects me from the sun. He walks like a man, a crimson cloak covers his waist.

  “…Y-” I cough. “You…”

  “Hello, Sieghart. How are you?”

  “What have you done…?”

  “Nothing. It was Aldwyn who got me these magnificent visions. In his gratitude, the fairy tried to show you the story — but he was content to help me do it.”

  “Aldwyn… Elron—Dufae. I need-”

  “There's nothing you can do.”

  “What-”

  “Aldwyn is addressing Dufae while we talk. You didn't listen to me when you should have, and you're no longer in a state to fight. You lost.”

  I force myself up. A stone hits my head, but I ignore it.

  The Lion smiles. “See why I chose you, Sieghart?”

  “…?”

  This situation. Memories flash in my eyes, but their context is finally absorbed in the face of illusion.

  “You were here. You-”

  “I saved you.”

  My eyes wander over the land. “I killed them.” I said, my throat glued shut by the shadow. “All of them. I tortured them—and I laughed when they screamed. Thorns that reached the heavens. An ocean made of blood—and then you appeared.”

  “Yes. And then I appeared. Your savior under the red of the Blood Moon. There are few individuals who rebel so strongly against the world. In their eyes, I saw the seed of revolt—of revolution. But that is not enough—there is one more element that is not only given to the heart, but to existence itself. The desire for chaos.”

  “The First Demon rebelled in the First War and caused all creation to fall. He lost, but the world remained.” The Lion continued. “I found him and, as it suited his heart, I devoured him so that we could become one. I then looked for someone with the same heart as mine—my metamagic and will—and found him amid mountains of bodies. I saved you. In gratitude, you devoured me, and joined me. You became me. One being in three: the imitation that gave me—that gave us—the name of Demiurge.”

  Shadows spread across my body and stick to the wounds. They lodge the flesh so that it doesn't decay, but leaves it to rot. Tears fall down my apathetic, now invincible face.

  “I'm you…?”

  Yes, of course. There was no other answer than this. A random demon and a random woman come together to form the ultimate symbol of randomness. Maybe this is what I wanted to hear all along—to finally feel the guilty weight of freedom on my chest. A shield that allows me to hide behind and blame him as if nothing had happened, knowing full well that it wouldn't be justification enough.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  But why should it be?

  Why do I need a justification?

  He hated being betrayed and devoured by me—but the hatred that held us together against the heavens was greater than what we used to destroy each other.

  Now his hand reaches out to me again.

  “Come with me. I'll show you why I do what I do.”

  A voice in the back of my mind whispers to me not to accept. A sweet, hurt voice that I've long since forgotten.

  I shake the Lion's hand, but he doesn't touch it. I'm the one who's up. A crowd of farmers and primates throw stones at my body, but I turn and face them. Hatred bubbles like fire in my chest, then sets them ablaze with magic.

  All around me, mutilated bodies form mountains. Memories fill the lapses that formed so much of a void in my soul, and the visions of carnage that I dreamt of so much become reality.

  I can feel the pleasure of revenge coursing through my muscles as I rebuild my past. I obliterate the mountains and crush the kingdoms that are so proud of their heritage. I invade the Fairy World, corrupt their minds and annihilate their integrity.

  I walk through infinity, watching the earth become shadow and rise up to the heavens. The castle reigns over the world and amidst the clouds, spreading hellish power like a disease. In the days of the ancient Empire of Men, the heavens bleed at my command and storms curse those who face them. Flames purge rebels over the red oceans, thousands of demons kneel, and the world is devoured by the pain of the slave who refused to die.

  Then the sun shone from behind the clouds, and a man approached, leading the last soldiers. I remember his weapon embedded in my chest, the glare that the divine Order wielded against me. I remember hearing the dying roars of Leviathan.

  I felt my conscience drowning in the depths of the ocean, screaming for air, and then leaving. The divided trinity was dispersed. The monsters, sealed or destroyed, drifted aimlessly across the land and were hunted down by humanity. The Demiurge, locked away in the rubble of his own kingdom, remained motionless. The one he had chosen, however, awoke and wandered the world.

  I remember handing over the power to the faeric child who would become Aldwyn, and consuming his flesh when I met Dufae.

  “And then I remembered you.”

  Morgana stares at me.

  The emerald glade surrounds us once again. The woman remains as exuberant as the first time I saw her, her noble posture keeping her upright over the center of the crystal-clear lake despite her fear. The silver light shines in a sickly glow and, this time, it prevents me from approaching.

  I tilt my head. “You knew, didn't you?”

  She pauses for a moment, then nods. “I warned you that seeking knowledge improperly would bring about your downfall.”

  “Did you know?”

  “… I had my doubts. Over time, they became certainties. I didn't want to believe.” She says, then nods to herself. “Yes, I knew.”

  I nod. “I see.”

  I walk to the lake and ignore the glow burning my skin, then sink both feet into the water. I watch my distorted reflection corrupt the crystalline purity until its waves reach Morgana's feet.

  “Sieghart, the Demon King. That's a good title, don't you think?”

  “It looks powerful.”

  “I feel powerful.”

  “I imagine so.”

  “I don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?”

  “If I were the one to tell, what guarantee do I have that you wouldn't try to burn the world down again?”

  “Right. That was a bad question.”

  “You had to know.”

  I nod. “And why did you make a deal with me?”

  “… For years, I watched you for any clue that would reveal you to be the First Demon, but all I found was Sieghart, the cursed child. Of course, I had other reasons for choosing you—but the foolishness of obsession almost always outweighs the fear of the consequence. You understand that better than anyone, don't you?”

  “Your family must have been horrible for you to prefer to trust a demon.”

  Morgana smiles. “Your heart is still human, Sieghart.”

  “The human heart is inclined towards evil. Compared to them, my tendencies-”

  “They never dominated your mind and allowed you to become a monster.”

  I face the fairy. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Until recently, yes. Now, I believe you have a reason to come and talk to me instead of deciding to spread darkness throughout the world again.”

  “Maybe I'm giving you false hope. Maybe I'm bringing Chaos to the Lake and want to destroy you along with everything else.”

  “It's true. There's nothing I can do about that. I can, however, try to convince you. And even if I'm consumed, I'll fight to avenge the boy's memory.”

  “Why?”

  “A kid with a bad heart would tell me it's the right thing to do.”

  I frown. “It's not the same. You don't believe that.”

  “Do you?”

  “… Yes. I don't see why, though. I used to do the right thing for the right thing, but I don't know if it's the right thing to do anymore. Who am I really helping? No, to tell you the truth, it would be better if I died. And that annoys me.”

  “Does it annoy you enough to agree with the Lion?”

  “No. That's why I'm here.”

  “But he didn't agree that he could help you.”

  “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “… I guess It's the best thing I can do.”

  Morgana nods, then sits down on the rock and dips her feet in the water. She beckons me closer and taps the rock next to her so that I can sit down.

  I spit out a laugh. “What are you doing?”

  “We both have evil hearts. Choice or inheritance, we can get along. Sit down.”

  I stand up. I walk over the water with the help of the fairy's blessing and sit down next to her, then look at my distorted reflection.

  I can't trust her. In fact, I don't. Within the confines of my mind, however, I know it's not from her that I have to fight against.

  “I'm a demon.”

  “Half.”

  “… What if the Lion is right? What if everything I've done so far is useless?”

  “When it comes to the divine, the only certainty we have is that your choice is the one that defines you. There are gods who are evil, but part of reality. There are men who are benign, even if they are ants. When the doors close, both will be judged equally. That's the story we've been told since the world was a world, at least. I prefer to believe in that. But you don't think It will, do you?” She says.

  My eyes wander around the lake.

  I trusted the gods once, during my first battle against Aldwyn, when I opened the Gates and controlled Chaos. But to do it again, in such an extreme way, with so much at stake…

  “You're right. I don't trust them. Except for that one single time, I never did. Not truly.”

  Is that why the Flame want to burn me? Then why did It make me like that? Why bring me into this world, knowing my chances? Are they lying to play a trick on me? Was I already doomed from the start?

  Why did they have to do It? Why did I have to fight so much? To suffer so much?

  “What else?” She says.

  “… It's… It's just…”

  Morgana holds my hand. “It's alright.”

  “…”

  “Say It.”

  “… I'm afraid.” I nod to myself. “I'm so, so afraid.”

  “…”

  “… Afraid that I was right, and the divine would slap my hand away when I reached out for help. I turned to Aldwyn, for I preferred to trust him than trust that someone good would even consider saving me. I thought I could replace the divine with knowledge, the miracle with skill, metamagic with arcane. But I could not. When that failed, I went to the Lion, for being devoured was still better than to look at the sky and watch them laughing at my eyes burning.”

  “… Did he show you what he wanted? Did he give you the power you craved?”

  “No. Nothing was done as I planned. Even if It was, I would have still lost like the Demon King before me. But maybe that was It. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse to follow him and use the malice against me as justification. It's something he warned me I do, and I don't doubt that it's true.”

  And why shouldn't I?