As Above So Below

Chapter 1

“Our heir… the heir to our Earth in Hell… what shall sustain as a befitting name for him?”

“Noir… hmm… What would go with our name?”

“Black… Black Noir… Kcalb… !!! Kcalb! Kcalb!! That’s a wonderful name! … see how our child reacts to its lovely name! It’s perfect… our perfect heir… he will be great, I know it.”

“Belinda, truly you cannot be… overlooking our newly born infant. It cannot achieve success so easily as you make it sound.”

 “Please, he holds the blood of the two most powerful demons known! Me and you… with our power, he could overrule us as easily as breaking a toothpick… I have faith he could achieve as such.”

……

“As you say, m’lady.”

It had been twelve thousand long years since those praises had ever been exchanged to the lonely demon. Even being born of the most sacred, royal blood, he was treated lower than the peasants themselves; just for his differences. Kcalb was awful, absolutely awful in social situations. Stuttering being one of most horrible habits. The demon almost never left his wide open room, and kept himself to light studies (there was not much studying, considering how young he was at the time) and alone time.

Most frequently, he was teased for his abnormality. Why that was, no one could actually say. His eyes mostly gave it away; the inverted discoloration of the sclera and the iris. What was normally white was black and what was normally colored any color but white was colored, take a guess, white. If he were embarrassed or bashful, the white of his iris would blend into the cryptic blackness of the sclera; making it seem as if he had ‘lifeless eyes’. His hair was as white as snow, and his skin was as pale as the full moon. His body was scrawny and frail for one so young, but he made up for that with a monstrous height of five feet and eight inches (while the regular height stood at four feet and seven inches) at the age of twelve thousand, or in ‘normal years’, twelve.

His horns, yes, his horns… they were most of the issue concerning his height. They were not fully grown yet, but were intimidating upon sight. They had a curve starting from the base, and ended near the end of the top portion of the head; shooting up straight from there with a threatening point. He wore black in every situation, and he had little to no companions; if any at all. His parents neglected him for this reason; Kcalb was nothing like they wanted him to be. They tortured him, beat him, left permanent scars… even the mark of damnation scorched into his side by burning metal. If tears could leave scars, he would say, his cheeks would be hollowed out and gone. 

One day, however… his parents unleashed their every bit of anger onto him, declaring a public torturing. No one decided against it; no one came to help him. ‘It was as if the world had nothing to say about me but silence’ Kcalb would later quote before his session began.

“Mother….”

“….. M-Mother, please stop….”

“You’re disgraceful! You’re smudging your awful actions into our family name!”

“I have done nothing wrong… I have done everything you have told me… I’ve been obedient; I have done no wrong…”

“Your mother is right, Kcalb. A true disgrace to the Noir name… nothing like a king; nothing like the ruler this place needs. You are going to get what you have deserved for a long time now today, Kcalb Julius Noir.”

The torturing began by handcuffing the child’s hands behind their back and leading them through a line of jousting, angry men. They would throw rocks and sticks; whatever harmful object they could get their hands on. ‘At this point, it was safe for me to say that no one appreciated me here’, Kcalb would note later. ‘The place where I have grown up… the place where I have lived all my life… and I have had no mercy with these people I would soon lead. I felt as if the core of my being had been cut out and stomped on by giants’.