The Demon King And The Hero (Part One)

Chapter Thirteen: The Demon King's Nightmare

Chapter Thirteen: The Demon King’s Nightmare

　

　

　

　

Nemis is young again. He’s dirty, bleeding, and he’s crying. He doesn’t know yet that Eldis betrayed him, and he cries out for her between sobs. Cold and tired, it’s a state of being he hadn’t felt since his first day in existence. He begs for someone, anyone, to pick him up and hold him tight. Nobody answers and he stumbles on.

His feet are torn and bloody, pieces of dead leaf stuck against the cuts, causing him more pain. His once fine clothes, heavenly garments, are thin and ragged. The trees of the forest grab at him with menacing thrusts. They spook him, but he keeps waking, forgetting that he is cold because he is scared. He doesn’t know why he’s alone. One minute he was playing with Rea, Akus, Ulmin, and some of the others and next he’s in the dark, chained to the wall. He was covered in blood but he knew it wasn’t his. It wasn’t Rea’s either, nor Akus’ and Ulmin’s. It was a faintly bitter smell and makes him dizzy with a new, nameless sensation.

“He went berserk,” They say.

“He doesn’t belong here,” They whisper when they think he can’t hear, but his ears pick it up with a sharpness that stung at his heart.

“ He’s not one of us,” They protest. “he should have never been allowed to live,”

The darkness fades into light and he see’s Azon with pity in his eyes. The god of fire was calm, almost wilted, as if his flame was waning. Simara stood next to him, crying and begging as only the goddess of mothers could. In a second she was gone, and in her place was Aramis, fear evident in her eyes. The maiden god was scared of everything she thought was different, and nobody really cared. Finally Risama made her appearance-her clothes phasing from alluring robes to a warrior’s chest plate- and stayed. Her face was harsh, but the other two of her aspects glinted in her eyes, and he could tell that she was both scared and upset beneath her stoic face. Ou’rora glared at him like never before, loathing and disgust blatant. She, the goddess of love, had always hated him, but somehow it had tripled in intensity. Ou’ra stood next to her, his twin, and Nemis could see great sorrow lining his face, a face that was usually full of vigor. Nemis was his ward sometimes, being male and the protégé to the god of war.

Eldis would not look him in the eyes. He desperately needed her to look at him, to assure him that everything was going to be alright. Instead, her head was lowered, she looked anywhere but at him.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t have to.

Isiz, the divine, the empress of Heaven, the goddess of the gods, entered the room and all was quiet.

It was Eldis she looked at. Fear coursed through him. Isiz wasn’t mad at his mama, was she?

She did nothing. She just stared at the other woman, usually bright face unnervingly dim. And then she spoke.

“Eldis of the Aureis, lady of light, my daughter begs me not to do this. I myself do not wish it, but it is the law of our realm and many have petitioned this of me. Exceptions were made for him, rules were set. We honored your husband by bringing him. We honored the oath sworn between his father and Excheleth. He broke one of those rules when Rea was harmed.”

Eldis shook, her body quivering, and he knew she was crying. Moving quickly, with the grace of a cat, Ou’ra held her in his arms.

“I know…” She whispers. “I’m sorry.”