The Exiled King

Chapter 37 - The Unholy Half-Godly Creature

The truth was a funny thing. It was like a many faced demon lurking in the shadows, rearing its ugly head.

As the dust settled on the wrecked battlefield, the scattered people slowly made their way to the centre, where Garyth lay. It was so silent one could almost hear a pin drop.

"You've all grown strong... I'm glad," Garyth whispered, a rare waver in his voice.

"W-What is this... truth you speak of?" Eryian asked quietly.

Garyth chuckled weakly, as he saw Pelos and the others near him, "The reason behind my actions... I did it for Dargon."

Pelos' face contorted and he sneered, "What? Even in death you refuse to face your actions?! How cowardly!"

"Look beyond your prejudices, Pelos Worldbringer!" Garyth cried, "You... were the only one of the gods that fought for Dargon. The only one!"

"W-What nonsense are you spewing now?!" Pelos stuttered.

Garyth's eyes were burning as he said, "I've lived two lives now. In my first life, the creator god destroyed Dargon. This life... there is yet a chance to thwart that fate. I have no cause to lie... death will make an honest man of me. Trust my words, please."

In a soft voice, Aeliyas spoke up, "If you've truly... lived two lives... Why have you committed so many misdeeds?"

"All that I have done... was for Dargon's survival. Demons to unite... the people of Dargon. Me... the mastermind... to unite the gods..."

Garyth took a rattling breath. His face contorted as he tried to draw in a breath, then sputtered and spat out a mouthful of blood.

He coughed, gasped for breath, and rasped, "I-I guess... my t-time has... come. Fin...ally..."

"No! Not like this, Master!" Eryian cried.

Garyth laid a gentle hand on Eryian's arm and said softly, "This vessel... is c-crumbling... consider t-this as... me taking a... n-new body..."

He continued hoarsely, "We are... i-in the... Ether..."

Garyth's voice trailed off, his laboured breaths slowed, and his already slack grip loosed entirely as the light faded from his crimson eyes.

There was a beat of silence, then a ghostly spirit rose from his body, visible to everyone. It slowly emerged from the body, but instead of lingering in a translucent state above the body, it solidified.

This was the Ether—the realm of spirits and a world that mimicked the overworld. Here, spirits materialised in solid forms. They lived, they breathed and they could do everything they could when they lived... and more.

But the body that lay dead on the cracked marble floor did not share a likeness with the man who'd emerged as a spirit from that body.

Rather than snowy white hair, he had inky blue-black hair streaked with gold and an unadorned golden crown resting heavily upon his head. Where the body's silvery tresses had been trimmed short, his hair came to his shoulders and was braided back tightly. In the place of red eyes were his cold, gold-flecked icy blue eyes. Kuban Whiterose had been a modestly attractive man, but Garyth Herus' true body was undeniably handsome. He possessed a certain ethereal quality not unlike the hauntingly elegant beauty of elves, though Garyth Herus was, without a doubt, human.

Garyth wore a long fur cape in a dark rusty crimson shade held in place by a thick golden chain and a deep purple tunic.

He cleared his throat, then spoke, "Well, uh... I wasn't certain it would work as I had hoped, but it appears to have done so."