“Will you be our King?” Her question sent chills down my spine.
“Why me?” I had to ask her, nervously shifting my grip on the hilt of my sword.
Penemue cocked her head to the side, a crisp lucidity entering her gaze as it sharpened, focusing intently on me. “You are the ideal candidate. Strong of conviction and belief. Your body can grow in strength and endurance with enough time.” She paused as her expression softened, lips curling into a gentle smile. “But most importantly, you carry a kindness that most would see as weak.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but stopped and gulped as my heart began to pound. Why did Penemue's request sound so…appealing? “I don’t…I can’t…” Why can’t I give a definitive answer?!
Understanding appeared in her tired gaze. “Honor is earned, not given, just like respect.” She cocked her head to the side, then looked behind her.
I followed her gaze and felt my heart stop at what waited behind her. Monsters from mythologies and stories from all cultures stood, waiting behind her. Beasts that bathed in blood and rent flesh from bone in countless stories milled about behind Penemue, as if waiting for her word to act. Greek, Japanese, Norse, English, German, Spanish, Native American, Chinese. All sorts of mythological stories came to mind as I scanned the creatures prowling around behind Penemue, filling the clearing to the brim. My head jerked to the portals in the trees, and I saw that several more had opened, with more creatures still coming through, all eyes focused on me.
“Nyrill is in danger of destruction,” Penemue explained, her tone matter of fact as if she stated the weather. “I cannot call them off, for that is outside of my regency. They are hungry, for both blood and violence.” Her eyes met mine, almost uncaring as they met my shock. “They call you Hero, with no care for your understanding or beliefs of the title.” Lifting a slender arm out from under her torn cloak, she swept to the side. The monsters all froze, eyes filled with madness all looking towards me. “I know why you’re unable to answer my request, despite your earnest desire to accept…”
Do I want to accept it? Do I understand the weight that royalty carries? Could I know it?
What type of King would I be?
“Stand your ground and drag these driven-mad beasts to the depths of death. Defend the village full of innocents. Save the childhood home of the beloved King.” Penemue spoke with conviction, pulling my attention to her. “Earn the title of Hero and stand against death.” She extended a hand to me, palm facing upwards to the sky. “For should you live and succeed, the people of Veritas will push you to a single goal. A single endpoint that would restrain you to Veritas until the end of your days.” She turned her hand and pointed a single finger at me. “Ascension. Evolution. Awakening. They would turn you into the second Hero King. They would shackle you, cage you and manipulate you to chain you to their prophecy.”
“What are you trying to tell me?” I growled out, my heart pounding as my anger grew. Her words ignited a fury within me. I knew why she said them. She wanted to make me angry, to make me want to spite Veritas, to ignore their desires for me. I…I didn’t know if I wanted that to happen, or not.
“If you accept my offer; if you embrace this new evolution, you will know a freedom that will grant you the ability to do whatever your heart desires.” She closed her hand, eyes wide with fervent hope, lips curling into a gentle smile. “Become the next Demon Lord. Take charge of your fate and scoff at those who would attempt to ensorcell you.” Penemue lowered her hand and once again looked to me with hope, with desire. “So I ask you once more: will you become our King?”
“I… I…” Even after hearing those words, even knowing what she asked of me, I still couldn’t answer. I still couldn’t offer a solution.
Penemue’s smile did not fall, gaining a mysterious bent. “There is nothing wrong with not knowing yourself. Some learn it through self-discovery. Others, after a moment of great personal struggle. Most, however, only truly understand themselves after facing death.” She narrowed her eyes, causing a very faint red glow to overtake them. The monsters behind her shifted as one, their intent focusing entirely on me. “You will survive this, Joseph Blaine, and become all the stronger for it. These monsters, these lost-in-madness beasts, will serve as your crucible, your journey to self-understanding.” She gave me a gloomy smile. “You may hate me after this, but no matter what, I will always understand and accept it. For you shall earn the resolve to act, regardless of the choice you make.”
Her expression hardened bright blue shifting to a blood red. “Fly free, my beasts. Devour to your hearts’ content.”
As one, every monster, every beast born from a nightmare, roared into the pale red sky. The earth under my feet shook from the force of their cacophony. Then they descended upon me like a sea of blackness, fang, and claw aiming to rend my flesh. If they finished with me, then they’d descend upon the village. Evacuation or not, they’d reach the villagers eventually, inevitably.
With a reluctant excitement surging through my heart, I held my sword in both hands and met their charge with my own. With a roar of defiance and exhilaration in my pounding heart, I clashed with the horde and tested my mettle. Steel sang as I swung my sword, smacking away an errant claw, and following up with a slash. Blood arced through the air, but I had to parry and deflect before it painted the earth. Constant, ever moving, flowing movements were all I knew at that moment. Skills and techniques taught to me by the very sword in my hand countered and retaliated as efficiently as possible, keeping me alive and moving. The chaotic dance of limbs and claws and fangs shimmered in subdued sunlight as if trapped in an eternal sunset.
I never turned away from the horde, never turned my back, always facing them with a blade in hand and ready to retaliate. The monsters struck with such ferocity, such mercilessness, such frightening speed. Wind scratched at my cheeks, tore at my arms and legs as I moved and dodged amid my melee. My heart pounded, my muscles burned and lungs strained. Despite the danger, I couldn’t help but smile, but feel exultant in the face of such uncertainty. This was what it meant to be a warrior, to be a Hero, to test my strength and skill and resolve against seemingly insurmountable odds.
With a sideways pivot on my left foot, I evaded a piercing lunge from a furred claw and removed it with an almost negligible cut from my sword. Bending my knees, I jumped over a whip of a tail, as if it aimed to trip me. I flipped midair to avoid more attacks on my person, moving my sword in the path of any attacks and using it to propel myself further. My arc through the air ended almost prematurely as a fanged mouth lunged at me from the earth, a pair of vice-like grips grabbing my arms and trying to restrain me. Pushing me back against a tree, the vampire-like creature tried to bite my throat out.
With a skill that surprised even me, I managed to sheathe my sword in its mouth, the point of the blade tearing through the roof of its mouth and ripping out the back of its skull. Before I could pull it free, another monster shoved the body aside, my sword going with it. Now unarmed, I clenched my fist and felt the energy of my life force augment my body. Sidestepping a claw, I grabbed it by the wrist with one hand and stepped into its guard to drill an elbow into its stomach. It staggered back from the blow, forcing back several of the monsters and giving me some much-needed breathing room.
Glancing to where my sword rested in the still warm corpse of the vampire, I managed to see that the horde had paused in its relentless pursuit of my life. As if like a hive mind, each of their eyes shared a mutual cruel amusement at my predicament. A hint of intelligence like a beacon of light in the darkness. A wheezing breath escaped me as I let out a shaky laugh, a grin growing on my face. “You think I need a sword to deal with all of you?” I scoffed as I tightly clenched my fists, allowing the excitement that bubbled in my chest to come forward, unrestrained finally. “Let’s see who the real monster is.”
The mass of beasts roared in a shocking unison and once again descended upon me. I crouched and stomped my leading foot onto the ground. It cratered inwards and disrupted the footing of quite a few of them, causing them to stagger and stumble over each other. Grinning despite being vastly outnumbered, I leaped forward and planted my foot on the back of the head of one of the fallen monsters. Its skull impacted into the hard earth, cracking both and painting the ground red. My fist flew forward and slammed into another, sending it staggering back in shock. I now stood in the middle of the horde, turning and twisting to keep as many of them in sight as I could.
What happened next I could only describe as an uncontrollable mass of chaos. I held nothing in reserve, lashing out with as much strength as I could. Counters, grapples, and redirected movements were all I used and abused to keep from being overwhelmed. I acted solely on instinct, using each monster’s strength against each other and evading one attack, grabbing their limb and pulling them towards me. Then I used them as a shield against another attacker. I moved like clockwork, manipulating their rising bloodlust to cause them to tear into their own. Always twisting and dodging and keeping my feet planted, I retaliated and fought on the move. My footing held just as much importance as my awareness.
All it’d take for me to die would be a single slip up.
It didn’t help that the grass appeared to be painted slick with blood.
My breaths were becoming labored, my heart rate spiking, as the battle continued. I lashed out and retaliated with every strike that aimed for my life. Smacking away claw and fang, I felt my knuckles crack and bleed with every impact, but pushed forward regardless. Pliable flesh and thick muscle folded beneath the weight and fierceness of my blows, pushing them back with every step forward I took. I retook ground and kept it, using all of the not insubstantial techniques learned through my Affinity. Elbows and knees were used sparingly, as I wanted to keep a distance between my foes and me, while still keeping my footing stable.
A glint of steel caught my eye in the gloom of the sunset. Smacking away an errant claw, I spared a glance at the source and felt my grin widen at the sight of the sword, still sheathed in the skull of the fallen monster. I just needed a chance, a single instance of freedom, and I’d be able to rearm myself. Pushing myself further, my arms began to take on an almost ethereal glow. I felt my bones creaks, and my joints quiver as pressure began to build as if begging for release.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
And I gave them what they needed.
Using a brief reprieve from their nigh incessant assault, I bent my legs and lifted my left foot and stomped. I released all the energy in my legs, creating an explosive shockwave that forced the significantly smaller group backward. Immediately afterward, I punched forwards with all the power in my arms, and sonic boom erupted forwards, and the area in front of me swiftly emptied of foes. Using that opening, I dived to my sword and ripped it from the monster’s mouth. A hiss of steel answered me as my blade scraped against the broken skull and chipped fangs, blood painting the already crimson grass at my feet. I caught sight of the only remaining intact shield and picked it up as well, holding it with my left hand. It would serve as both a defensive option as well as potentially a second weapon.
I faced the surprisingly dwindled force of monsters, a faint feeling of triumph swelling in my chest. Leaning forward, I preempted their fixed charge and leaped into the middle of their group, sword singing as I returned to the melee.
A lazy swipe of a furred paw parrying my attack offered the only warning I needed for my already flagging strength. I could feel the fatigue settle in my bones, weighing my muscles down and squeezing my lungs for every last drop of air. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to compartmentalize my movements. Short, quick jabs and slashes were my next modus operandi, conserving what little stamina I had left while keeping my shield up and ready. I moved and held my shield at an angle redirecting blows, rather than outright blocking them. I kept moving, kept attacking, kept their attention on me. What felt like hundreds of tiny cuts littered my arms and legs as my mobility became more challenging to maintain.
Regardless, I finally finished the last monster with a timed thrust into its throat. It felt to the ground at my feet, gurgling as it flailed with its glistening claws, red faintly coloring them. My sword jerked in my weak grasp as it fell, the sudden motion throwing me off balance, but I ripped it out with a backward stagger. I turned my attention to Penemue, my body swaying as I gasped for breath, sweat pouring down my back and my face. Blinking to clear my sight, I wiped my forehead with my leaden arm as it quickly fell back to my side. “Well…” I gasped and sucked in air, trying and failing to regain my breath fully. “Any…thing…else…”
I grinned despite myself. Despite my exhaustion, I felt accomplished. Despite my lungs burning, I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. Despite my fatigued body, I couldn’t fight the pride that pounded in time with my heart. Despite dropping to my knees as my legs gave out below me, I couldn’t help but feel like I stood atop the world.
Penemue just smiled with pride, eyes the color of the empty blue sky once more. “I never doubted you.” She hesitated for a second before she confidently strode over to me. As she walked towards me, I caught sight of a naked, bent and a twisted knife held in her belt. Her cloak flowed around her in the gentle breeze that danced in the meadow. “Standing against impossible odds, facing a horde of mindless beasts with but a single goal in mind: your destruction.” Penemue reached me and fell to a single knee in front of me. She lifted a hand, wavering as she reached for me before she continued. Her hand felt cold, as cold as ice, but…surprisingly soft.
“Do you have your answer, now, Joseph Blaine?” Penemue asked me, her voice no louder than a whisper, her warm breath tickling my skin. “Have you come to your understanding yet?”
It’s stupid when you think about it. It makes no sense. If you have difficulty knowing the type of person you are, what you’re struggling with, then a fight to the death should be the last thing that helps you understand yourself. It should take years, either with constant self-reflection, or even voluntary therapy. The human mind, both physical and subconscious, is far too complicated for something as primal and ignorant like a fight to make things clear. But…
My mind was clear.
My worries no longer plagued me.
My hesitations were gone.
I exhausted myself and gave everything I had in that fight, and I now felt…free.
“Yes,” I said, managing to catch my breath.
“Will you be our King?” Penemue’s voice came out as a whisper. It tickled my ear, sending shivers down my spine and clarity to my thoughts.
I knew my answer. The answer that I hoped would give me what I what wanted above all else. Damn the consequences.
“What do I need?”
Her eyes lit up with joy, as they shifted to a glimmering red, her cheeks gaining color as her lips parted to reveal a smile so beautiful that it stole what little breath I had left away. “Simply accept what I give you.” Penemue then leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. Her lips moved in a slow, tender rhythm. Almost casually, her tongue prodded my lips, and I opened them, allowing the kiss to deepen.
As we kissed, what felt like liquid fire trickled into my mouth. Out of instinct, I tried to pull away, but the hand on my cheek slid behind my head and held its place, and her other hand grabbed the front of my armor, keeping me from moving my body. As she deepened the kiss, her tongue exploring the entirety of my mouth. I couldn’t even enjoy the kiss because it felt like gargling hydrochloric acid. I planted my hands on her shoulders and began to try and push her away.
She held the kiss between us for what felt like hours, before she finally released me. Penemue stood, straightening her posture even as my strength faltered, hands sliding from her shoulders as they shook. She looked down at me, a red line dripping down the right corner of her mouth. She lifted a hand and wiped the line from her mouth with a thumb. Her eyes no longer showed red. “I’ve given you the last catalyst for your ascension. The blood of the first Demon Lord.” My eyes flickered along her face, before they went downward, catching the glint of her naked dagger, now held in her hand.
I choked and gagged at her words, my hands shot to my throat. Blood?! She made me drink blood?! All too soon, I could taste the blistering heat that slid down my throat and rested in my mouth. It felt like smoldering magma, hot in both temperature and intensity. Tears fell freely down my face as my sweltering throat unwittingly restricted a scream of pain. Her sorrowful gaze studied me as she lowered her hand, the twisted and bent knife pointing to the ground.
"I'm sorry for what's going to happen to you. The pain is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy." Eyes as blue as the open, empty sky above us regarded me with sadness, but not pity. Only acceptance. "To spare you from the pain…" She paused, her eyes hardening with resolve. "You'll have to die."
With strength I had no idea I had, I scrambled back to my feet and twisted around to run away from her, though the corners of my vision were dimming. I passed by a tree after tree, until my vision decayed and failed, slowly submerging me in darkness. The sound of the roaring winds, the feel of falling leaves, were all that let me know I still ran, my sense of touch gradually getting lost in the all-encompassing burn.
She didn't pursue. Nor did the shadows that surrounded her. Her weak apology reached me in my growing numbness to the world, remorse filling her tone.
I ran. I ran until I stumbled drunkenly, numbed by the pain from the steadily burning sensation had encompassed by lungs. Ragged, wheezing, breaths escaped me as I finally collapsed to my knees. I couldn't breathe, my searing lungs tightening as if refusing to listen anymore. Consciousness slowly slipped from me, sluggishly dragging me away. I forced my arms to move, solely by will, moving one by one until I was pulling myself further and further away, tree by tree, branch by branch, shrub by shrub. Chocking gasps were all that I could exhale as I tried to breathe, tried to push out that burning, hot sensation from the recesses of my esophagus.
A pair of hands clasped my arms, keeping me from falling even farther. "Don't worry." A familiar voice broke through the haze in my thoughts, causing me to look up to see Luke looking down at me. I knew that I could trust him. He’d be able to help me get the hell away. I’d get to a healer or something, and they’d give me something to vomit all this shit back up.
"You don't have to fight anymore." A pinching sensation in my chest caused me to cough wetly, the burning becoming just a bit more bearable. I blinked and gave him a confused look, my brows rising as my eyes widened. I felt my mouth open, my body moving on its own as if asking him why. His expression appeared torn, brows scrunched, mouth grimacing and eyes watering. “Dammit, Joey…why’d you have to listen? Why’d you have to throw it all away?” The hand on my shoulder squeezed, barely breaking through the numbness in my slowly slumping body.
Tears fell freely down his cheeks, eyes glaring down at me. “I thought you would trust me. I thought…” He continued to speak, continued to cry and weep, to ask or demand things of me, but I could hear no longer. I could no longer feel his hand crushing my shoulder as my world began to dim and darken, as I felt my heartbeat gradually slow. I felt my lungs practically come to a standstill, no more air reaching my lungs. I spared Luke one last look, one last dead-eyed glare, before I hacked out a cough, blood trickling out of my mouth and sliding down my chin.
Looking down, the last thing I saw before losing consciousness, before dying, was the point of a stained, chipped sword sticking out my chest, painted scarlet with my blood. I blinked again, but I didn’t see anything else afterward…
----
I remembered death.
The thought chilled me. I could recall the moment my heart stopped beating, the second when my lungs refused to listen, the instant I could no longer feel the hand of my killer, my brother in all but blood, resting on my shoulder.
I expected to feel shaken, to feel terrified of my mortality at that thought. But…I felt nothing. No, that’s not right. I did feel something. I felt better, stronger. The worries that plagued me during my time with the others in Veracity and Nyrill were no longer present, no longer even considered.
As I sat across from an attentive and excited Soralynn, meeting her faintly luminous amber eyes, I couldn’t help but sit there in wonder at how…robust I felt. Even after the two months of training with the knights in Veracity, I always had a feeling of fragility, even more, pronounced than being at home. I knew that despite my capable Affinity and skill in combat, my asthma could potentially, inevitably, cripple me amid heated conflict. All it would take is one sudden attack at an inopportune time, and I would be showing my bare neck to the enemy.
But now?
Now, I felt like I could face the entire world with a smile on my face and come out victorious.
“Joseph?” Soralynn’s restrained excitement in her voice caught my attention. She looked to me with a grin that showed off all of her perfect teeth, her hair floating ever so faintly amid her eagerness. “That was everything? Everything that happened during your time with the other Heroes?”
“Yeah,” I answered confidently, nodding once, grimacing as my bangs flowed in front of my eyes. Grimacing, I brushed it aside.
Soralynn’s grin widened as she leaned back in her seat. “You didn’t hesitate when you recalled everything. I sensed no break in your memory, brought on by your death and rebirth.” She clapped her hands, clasping them together as a corona of energy glowed around her. “Oh! This is fantastic!”
“Soralynn. Calm down.” I said sternly, my eyes flickering to the parted blinds of our room, taking the darkness of the night sky. The sun had set and night had fallen, after my seemingly endless recollections. Standing, I walked purposefully over to it and pulled the curtains closed. Turning, I saw that she had a contrite grimace, though it did little hold back the glee in her eyes. “It’s late.” I looked over to the window, staring at the now closed curtains. “We should take the night and let everything settle.”
“Talk in the morning?” She asked me, and I nodded. Soralynn forced herself to calm, eyes closing as her shoulders fell. After a few seconds, her eyes opened, and they dimmed. She offered me an apologetic smile. “I may have gotten too excited.”
I gave her a dry look but didn’t reply. “Okay, I suppose it’s time to go to bed, then…” I looked around the room and felt my shoulders fall as my gaze fell onto the bed.
The only bed.
I turned an amused stare onto Soralynn, who looked so innocent that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “Sora…why is there only one bed?”
The one thing I recalled before going to sleep that night, in the same bed as Soralynn, was that she never gave me an answer. She just smiled innocently.
This girl’s going to be the death of me…
Again.
----
Memento Mori - Fin