JamesWinterInk
History will argue with what I am about to say. It prefers its wars clean, its gods infallible, and its monsters simple.
This story is none of those things.
I did not intend to have a son. Demons do not intend such things. We do not build futures. We endure them. And yet, somewhere between a war I no longer remember and a love I was never meant to feel, the impossible occurred.
He was born.
Orm.
A contradiction wrapped in flesh. Angel and demon braided together with something far more dangerous... humanity. I watched him grow among creatures that should have devoured him, learning their hunger, their cruelty. I expected him to become one of us.
He did not.
He became something worse.
He chose.
That is the part no one understands. Not Heaven with all its rules, not Hell with all its appetite. Choice is the one force neither side has ever managed to chain. He chose to fight. He chose to protect. He chose, disastrously, to love.
And in doing so, he broke a plan set in motion long before either of us existed.
I have lived long enough to see empires rise and fall like careless tides. I have seen angels burn and demons kneel. None of it concerns me anymore.
But this does.
Because when my son chose love, the universe did something unexpected.
It answered.