Garen sat motionless near the summit of the great mountain. A human could not have seen very far through the gray, sunless sky to the bleak world below, but he was not human. His keen demon eyes could see for miles from his current perch. He sat in silence watching the few demidemon survivors run; watched as they fled in terror from him and his terrible power.
Let them run.
He’d killed hundreds of their filthy kind already, but he had lost all interest in killing. After two days of slaughtering demidemons during his quest to save the remaining slaves, the bloodshed had finally caught up with him. Looking down at his hands, he could almost see the boy's blood on them; could almost feel it. The child he had slain. A tragic mistake, a moment of unrestrained bloodlust gone wrong, but it was done. He could not change what had happened though he yearned for things to be different.
Is this what I've become, a mindless slayer of children? I truly am a demon.
His highly-attuned demon senses alerted him to the approach of the liberated human slaves. He could hear them scurrying up toward him, but he didn't care. Numbering slightly over 100, those lucky enough to survive the horrid tunnels now followed him aimlessly and obediently wherever he went. They were like mindless pawns looking for a new king to serve, and they would be helpless without him in the desolate world of demons and restless evil.
He ignored them as he stared down at his hands and his thoughts always drifted back to the boy. The boy he had killed. He remembered the boy’s last moments in his arms as the life had bled out of his small body and a great sadness welled up inside him.
Is this how it's supposed to be, the weak perish while the strong linger? Is this really the only law of this world, the only law of The Nightlands?
“Garen?” asked a familiar, smoky voice.
Slowly, he raised his head and turned to look back at Cassandra. She was still in her demonic state as she’d been the last time that he’d seen her, but her face was still full of compassion as she looked down at him. She had been watching him silently for nearly two days while he ruthlessly cut down every demidemon that crossed his path. He was grateful for her patience, but the sound of her voice was far more soothing to his troubled state of mind.
“Is it done?” he asked quietly, knowing without a doubt the answer but still needing to hear it from her.
“Yes, I carried the lightwielder to the bridge that links the two worlds together. Even wounded, he should be able to find his way back on his own.”
“I hope that for his sake that he does, I don’t know if I could stop myself from trying to kill him again. This demon inside me is more powerful than I ever imagined. If I let up for even a moment, it seizes control of me and... ”
“People die? Garen, what happened to the boy was not your fault; it was Gormum.”
“I am Gormum. I am the Darkstar. I am a demon and a murderer. That has been made abundantly clear to me. No matter what I do, I cannot change what I am, what I've become: you told me as much yourself!”
“Yes, and I also told you that you can choose to fight it. It is up to you to keep Gormum’s twisted thoughts at bay. Look down, look at The Nightlands. It is a barren, cold, inhospitable world. These people that you've saved have no chance in this world full of demons if you give in to your despair. They need you to protect them.”
“They’ll survive without me, they have you.”
“But I need you, Garen,” Cassandra said softly. “I’m tired of running; tired of being scared. I sought after Gormum’s power thinking that it was what I desired and it led me to you. I was wrong. Please, don’t give in to it.”
“You’d all be better off without me around; there’s no way of knowing when I’ll lose control again or if I can get it back again if I do. The last thing I want is to hurt someone I care about like I did to that boy.”
“I’ll take that risk, Garen. That’s my choice to make. Now it’s time to make yours: will you come with me and try to build a life free of fear or will you sit here and wallow in self-pity?”
Garen stared at her for a moment before he looked back out to The Nightlands. Minutes passed as he stared down into the grim, grey world below. The sound of the slaves shifting and coughing in the cold mountain air filled his ears.
What should I do? That boy died because I couldn’t control the demon within me; if I lose control again many more could die. I know that Cassandra’s right about the others, though, without me, they would all perish for certain.
He slowly looked up at Cassandra. She stood beside him, with her usual stoic expression, awaiting his reply. Something about her face was different, however, and Garen quickly saw that it was her eyes. As their gazes met, he could see the great sadness and uncertainty that lay within her as well.
Does she really need me as much as she claims? If her entire life has been spent searching for a power like this, what will happen to her if I decide to abandon her to fate. Will she just become another victim of this world or will she find some other source of power? Do I really want to see her go, even if she might be safer without me?
Questions assaulted him without mercy; uncertainty after uncertainty rising to plague his thoughts. He could almost feel the echo of the hundred minds around him crying out for his help, but the thought of hurting or killing them stopped him from giving in to their desperate need. Fear of what he might do paralyzed him so thoroughly that he wasn’t sure he could make a decision one way or the other.
Movement beside him slowly drew his attention from his own indecision, and he turned his head. With painfully slow steps that seemed extraordinarily difficult, Cero approached him from the huddled mass of people. As Garen watched the boy’s approach, he realized that like all of the others, Cero was literally freezing to death on the mountainside because of him.
Even by not deciding, I’m still sentencing them all to death. I can’t watch this anymore, I promised myself that I’d never stand by and watch anyone die if I had the power to help them. I might hurt someone in the future, but without me all of them will die.
“Alright,” he finally said as he stood up, “I’ll help them, but I don’t know what to do. Can we send them across the bridge to The World of Light?”
“No,” Cassandra said in a low voice, “I’m not sure what to do either, but I do know that they can never go to The World of Light.”
“Why? I have a demon in me, so it makes sense that I can’t return, but these are regular humans we’re talking about. It doesn’t make sense that they can’t leave this evil world behind and reach the safety of The World of Light.”
“These aren’t regular people, Garen, can’t you see that? How many normal humans have you ever known that could stand on a freezing mountainside in rags and not freeze to death in minutes? The fevergrass that they’ve all been eating comes at a price: once it’s consumed by a human that person can never again enter The World of Light without immediately becoming sick and dying shortly after. It changes them forever and without it, even in this world, they would die in a matter of days.”
“So, like me, they’re all trapped here in this godforsaken wasteland?”
“Yes.”
Garen opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat as he realized the futility of further complaints. Frowning, he closed his mouth and looked down at Cero. The small boy was trembling with cold and obviously racked with pain, but he’d made his way through the crowd of people to stand next to Garen. As the boy stared up at Garen, an odd sensation washed over him and he knew what he would do.
“If they can’t leave The Nightlands, then I will build them a home here. I will create a city of freedom and safety, so that they may live in peace, without fear of the demons that have tormented them. I will personally protect them all and you, Cassandra,” he said, turning to look at her, “are welcome to join me. If we work together, we can make a home free of fear and pain. You won’t need to run anymore. I will protect you.”
Cassandra looked back at him with a sad look in her eyes
and a bittersweet smile on her lips. Her usual stoic expression had dissolved completely revealing her own concern and uncertainty.
“If you do this, you will make yourself an enemy to every demon in The Nightlands; are you certain that this is your choice?”
“Yes,” Garen answered without hesitation. “I will use this evil power within me to protect these people and help them build a new life. It’s the only way that I can atone for the blood that I’ve spilled.”
“Garen, I'm glad that you're willing to help these people, but don't do it for the wrong reasons. You’ve already more than atoned for that boy’s life despite the fact that it wasn’t your fault in the first place; none of us, myself included, would be alive right now if not for you.”
“Regardless, this is something that I need to do. Will you help me?”
A brief moment of silence passed between them and part of Garen feared that she would refuse. The thought of being separated from her was painful, but he quietly waited for her answer.
“Yes,” she said finally.
“Then let’s get started,” he said with a smile of relief.