The Story of Aria and the Slayer

Chapter 7

Aria sat up so quickly that the room seemed to spin for a moment.

One question. She could ask the Slayer one question, and he would give an honest answer. It was almost too good to be true. Yet there was no hint of a lie in his words. The usual mockery and twisted amusement was missing from his voice. So she had to think carefully. She couldn't waste any sort of opportunity to find the answers that mattered the most. To rid her mind of the restlessness that hindered her every step. But in order to do that, she had to choose the correct question.

Aria breathed in deeply, eyes briefly closed. No. She didn't need to keep up the needless pondering. She already knew the words that would soon exit her mouth.

And she could almost hear the Slayer's eyebrows flick up as she asked, "Why?"

"Why what?" It was clear he knew exactly how she'd respond.

Aria turned her head, glaring back. "Why do you do it? Why do you commit such evil acts? What reason can you possibly have for killing all those people." For pitting the country that he'd built up for her, for people like her—the poor—against another one of the lands that he practically created.

A few seconds passed, and there was no response. She had been about to repeat the question when the Slayer finally spoke. "How do you know what I'm doing is truly evil?"

It was a truly astonishing answer. It was astonishing that he could say something so absurd in a tone that suggested he was being completely serious. In Aria's eyes, there was no way to put the actions of the demon as anything, but evil. The words, the ones that attempted to manipulate her beliefs, sounded utterly ridiculous to her. Never again, would she believe any words, any actions that tried to tell her that the Slayer was anything but a monster. Never again would she allow him to manipulate her. Never.

The Slayer seemed to laugh at her stunned silence. Then she heard a shift in fabric from across the darkened room as though the demon shrugged. "I mean, I know that I've made it blatantly clear that I'm a monster," he sighed, laughter fading, "but even before you met me, you were already so sure that I was some sort of demon. I could tell from the look you gave me in the forest that day. The look you gave me before you even realized I'd killed your adoptive parents. So how exactly did you come to that conclusion? How did you know I didn't have a good reason for doing what I'm doing?"

Aria's hard stare wavered, only for a second as his words cut deep. A memory that she wanted desperately to disappear arising within her. Because before she had ever met him, she'd never even heard of the Slayer. She hadn't seen him as a demon. She'd only heard of a man who'd killed the past tyrants of the first country she occupied, only for a new set of selfish rulers to take control. For a long time, she hadn't known who that man was. But when she first met him, clueless as to who, or rather what he truly was and what he was capable of, she thought of him as anything but a monster.

She shook her head, shoving down the memories that the Slayer had clearly been able to forget with ease. "I may be clueless about the world of the tower compared to you, but even I can tell what's right from wrong. My parents—"

"Adoptive parents," the Slayer interjected.

She grit her teeth. "My parents taught me about morals. And I know that what you're doing goes against every single one of their lessons."

The demon huffed bitterly, growling out the words, "See, that's what's so wrong with people like you." Again, Aria heard the rustling of fabric against fabric as the Slayer got to his feet.

Except the difference was that the room seemed to sense the agitated movement, and the lights flickered on. So when her eyes finally adjusted, she could see the anger and judgment in those of the demon's. She could see them clearly as he stood close by. Too close, as his pale hand rested against the backboard of her bed.