Ashen Light

Chapter 4: Plunge Into Hell

Cyrus's consciousness drifted, sinking slowly from the safety of the waking world into a darker, colder place. Shadows stretched across a landscape of desolation, twisted and unrecognizable. He walked through it as though in a trance, feeling the weight of another presence with each step.

Then he saw him.

A figure stepped forward from the darkness, and though it looked like him, the differences were unmistakable. Crimson hair cascaded down to sharp shoulders, red eyes glinted with a predatory gleam, and skin as pale as marble seemed to glow under an unseen, ominous light. This was Cyrus, yet not Cyrus: The face, the form, were his own, but twisted with an almost unsettling elegance.

"Ah, finally," the figure said smoothly, voice layered with a dark amusement. "Our hero has come home."

Cyrus's fists clenched at his sides as he stared at the demon within him, his other half. The...thing's smile widened, just a hint of fangs showing in his otherwise perfect expression of mock politeness.

"You know," it went on, tracing a hand lazily through the air, "you put on quite the show back there in Clankal. You're blending in so well with all those little mortals. It's almost endearing." He paused, tilting his head. "But you must feel it too, hmm? The call of power that stirs within you... waiting."

Cyrus swallowed, keeping his expression steady. "Whatever you're planning, it's not happening. I don't want your power."

The demon laughed softly, the sound low and resonant, as though mocking Cyrus's words. "Don't want it?" He stepped closer, each movement graceful yet exuding an undercurrent of danger. "What a quaint little lie, coming from a man so eager to fight demons. Tell me, how long until you'll need me?"

The figure stepped closer, his expression shifting into a smile—friendly, but just a little too sharp, a little too controlled. "Ah, yes. Where are my manners?" he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Ryu-Kishyn, 1st High Archdemon of the Underworld, master of all things twisted and dark... and currently, your rather inconvenient roommate."

The name hit Cyrus like a hammer, and he took an involuntary step back. Ryu-Kishyn. The name was etched in the ancient teachings he'd learned as a child, stories of a demon king sealed away to protect the world from his wrath. The realization coursed through him with a cold wave of dread.

Ryu-Kishyn's smile widened as he watched Cyrus's reaction, clearly savoring the fear he'd unleashed. "Ah, I see you're familiar with the tales. How quaint. But I assure you, those stories barely scratch the surface of what I am capable of."

Cyrus clenched his fists, but his voice came out unsteady. "Why me? Why did you-"

"Choose you?" Ryu-Kishyn finished, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh, no, boy. You chose me. It was your hand that took up that blade, your soul that opened the door. And now..." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper, "...you're mine... or perhaps... you are me..."

The words slithered into Cyrus's mind, leaving a nauseating sense of dread that twisted in his gut. He could feel something deeper than just the demon's words—a terrifying truth taking root, pulling him closer, ensnaring him. Ryu-Kishyn's smile deepened as if he could sense Cyrus's fear, his expression both pitying and delighted.

The demon's smile widened, a hint of triumph flashing behind his gaze. "Think on that, little Warden," he murmured with a twisted fondness. "Think on what it means for us."

And just like that, the world shifted, falling away like dust in the wind. Darkness wrapped around Cyrus, his consciousness dissolving into an inescapable, lingering sense of dread.

"And what do you want?!" Cyrus called out, not able to see, to breathe, to feel-

"What I want?" The cold voice called back, echoing in his brain.

"Eden."

{{A/N: Shorter chapter for this one, it was supposed to be. Also Eden is not a person, jsyk}}