“Mel, please stop looking up ‘demon lord class’ on the internet. We already know what you’re going to get.”
“There might be something else. I’m sure of it.”
“You’re already on page ten. All you’re getting are anime references.”
“And that’s because those are the popular searches. There are a lot of hidden gems in the farther pages. Dad’s not going to just accept that you’re a Demon Lord, Ark. He might’ve kicked angel ass at some point but you know he’s still Christian at heart.”
Melmarc was seated on his bed, tapping away at his phone. It was not his skill, he was not the Gifted, but he was severely terrified for his brother. Their father obviously wouldn’t harm him or anything negative, and, surprisingly, that was the least of his worries.
“You’re a Demon Lord, Ark. A Demon Lord.”
Ark sighed and picked the phone easily from Melmarc’s hands. “I am not a Demon Lord, Mel. My class is Demon Lord. And my guardian is, apparently, a demon. Which means Uncle Dorthna knew.”
Melmarc perked up at that. “The mystery third condition.”
“Yep.”
Spitfire was still under their reading table. It stood there, mouth in a wide open smile. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth and it was panting like a dog that was happy and ready to play.
It was still very cute.
And still very much a demon.
Melmarc let Ark hold on to his phone. If his brother didn’t he would probably find the end of the internet search pages.
“He said the third condition was more unlikely to happen than you meeting Dragon-Knight.”
Ark chuckled. “Who knows, at this rate maybe I’ll get to meet Dragon-Knight, too. We can be a guardian duo. I’ll be her understudy.”
It was still night outside. The light in their room was still turned on since Ark hated sleeping with the lights off ever since the Player had broken into their house and wrecked the entire place.
“How about a practice run,” Ark suggested. “Uncle Dortha already has a little bit of an idea of what could happen so I’m sure he’ll handle it better.”
Melmarc shook his head. “Won’t be much of a practice run. Have you met uncle Dorthna? You could tell him you just became the second coming and he wouldn’t bat an eye.”
Ark shrugged and slipped Melmarc’s phone into his pocket. He paused after a moment, brought it, out and checked the screen.
“You just got a message.”
Melmarc couldn’t bring himself to care. “Unless it’s a Wikipedia update stating that Demon Lords are actually holy in some way, I don’t think I’m interested right now.”
“It’s from Delano.” Ark turned the screen to him. “He wants to know if you’re still coming for the school trip.”
Melmarc got up from his bed. He felt as if someone had attached extra weights to his legs.
“My brother just became the Demon Lord. I’m sure a school trip is the least of my worries.”
“Saying it a million times won’t change anything. You know that, right? Besides, I’m not the Demon Lord. I’ve just got a class called Demon Lord.”
“A class with no records of any one having it in the entire world. And don’t get me started on the animes.”
He was standing at the door now, hand on the handle. “Come on, then. Let’s go practice how we’re going to tell our Christian parents that their son is the anti-christ.”
He opened the door and walked out.
Behind him Ark was chuckling.
…………………………
True to character, Uncle Dorthna wasn’t fazed by the news.
They’d found him seated at the dining while the television ran a silent repeat of the afternoon news. He had a mug of cold water and was taking it in sips like it was hot tea.
Breaking the news to their uncle had been nerve wracking.
Despite Ark’s affectation of nonchalance, he’d stammered a bit and stumbled over his words enough times.
When he’d finally gotten the words out, uncle Dorthna grunted in amusement.
“Demon Lord, huh.” He stared thoughtfully at the wall for a moment. “Never heard of that one before. What skills did you choose to get it?”
“Breath of Fire and Will of Hades,” Ark answered.
“I guess that makes sense. There’s fire and there’s hades. Sounds like a powerful combination. What were the options?”
Ark told him. He made sure to point out which ones were the skills and which ones were the sub-skills.
Dorthna took another slow sip of water while Ark and Melmarc stood waiting for his response. When it came, Melmarc wasn’t sure it was in the list of what he expected.
“I’d have gone with Book of Solomon. It gives increased intelligence which gives you more mana, and you get a list of familiars. You can’t go wrong with skills that allow you summon more than one familiar.”
“The familiar will have to surrender to me first, though.”
“True. But I knew a guy with a similar skill. He had a skill named Call of The Siren. What it did was that it petrified nearby enemies that were weaker than him and fell beneath a certain self-awareness threshold. He raised the skill and upgraded it to Songs of Solomon.”
“Mine was Book of Solomon.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Dorthna shrugged. “It is. So what Songs of Solomon did was that while his old skill petrified enemies, this one made those enemies act as his allies.”
“Mind manipulation,” Melmarc muttered.
“Not entirely, but close enough. Anyway, personally, I would’ve suggested going for Book of Solomon, but Will of Hades works well enough. Demon Lord, huh.” He chuckled. “Your dad’s going to be so pissed.”
Whatever false sense of relief they’d gotten from how casually he had handled the news so far left them almost immediately.
Their father really was going to be pissed.
How was a Christian going to handle being the father of the Anti-Christ?
Uncle Dorthna waved his hand as if chasing a fly away. “No need for the long face. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like he didn’t expect it in some way. Your old man probably went to church and prayed against it. But… well, these things happen.”
“You guys knew I was going to get skills?” Ark asked, confused.
“Well, not necessarily you. Just one of you.” Dorthna looked at Melmarc. “Why do you think your mom was in support of wrapping Spitfire in your clothes.”
Melmarc thought about it for a moment. Obviously, Spitfire had somehow given Ark powers. “So you knew it might give one of us powers.”
Dorthna nodded.
“And you guys were okay with it?” Ark asked, then paused. “Where’s Ninra by the way?”
“Out at a friend’s place. And yes, we were okay with it. Well, your dad was kind of on the fence about it. Every parent wants their kid to become a Gifted, after all.”
“So you knew Spitfire might give one of us powers.” Melmarc pulled out a chair and sat down.
“It’s how guardians work. They find a person and give them powers. That’s how it worked for Dragon-knight. And back in the days she was so certain that all guardians did it. Seeing as she was the only one that knew how to communicate with a guardian, we were inclined to believe her. A hope against hope kind of thing.”
Something wasn’t sitting right with Melmarc. Their uncle’s story felt… incomplete.
“Even if it was a Demon?”
Dorthna waved the question aside. “When you’ve gone into enough portals you learn that everything you know isn’t necessarily black and white. Demons, angels, kitsune, Xuanzang, Wukong. There are always grey areas.”
“Isn’t grey just black and white mixed together until you can’t tell where one starts and the other ends?”
Dorthna paused.
“I’m just saying,” Melmarc went on. “Sounds like it just means that sometimes it’s extremely difficult to tell, so people just made up the saying so they don’t feel so bad about not being able to make the right choice.”
For a moment their uncle’s eyes lost focus and his lids lowered. He looked sad, and older. And not the good kind of older.
He smiled sadly. “It must be nice being young. I miss it sometimes.”
He took another sip of his water and didn’t meet their eyes anymore. He just stared at the contents of his cup. “You should go and sleep, Demon Lord. You should see your rank when you wake up.”
“Oh shit!” Ark swiped the air. “I forgot to check what my rank was.”
“It takes sometime before it appears, so you don’t have to be in a hurry. Some come quickly but those are rare.”
Ark’s brows furrowed. “You’re right. It doesn’t have any rank next to it.”
They waited quietly while he swiped through the air a few more times.
“You sure dad’ll be fine about this?” he asked when he was done. “I know I come off as nonchalant most of the time, but I’m really worried about this one.”
“I’m sure he’ll be good.” Dorthna looked at them finally. His eyes still looked sad, tired. “If you like, I could break the news to him for you. He might handle it better that way.”
Ark was silent. He said nothing, simply stared at the air in thought.
He’s probably looking at his class, Melmarc thought. Now that he was a Gifted he’d be doing a lot of air-staring.
Ark shook his head. “No. I should tell him myself. It’s my class, so it’s my responsibility.”
Dorthna nodded. “You should still go get some sleep, kiddo.”
Ark turned and made his way for their room.
Melmarc rose from his seat only to sit back down. The conversation was done, an answer of some kind had been reached. Everything was resolved. With that, the adrenaline that came with the mild panic and excitement for his brother was gone.
What was left now was something… hollow.
“You good?”
Melmarc looked up to find his uncle staring at him from over the rim of his mug held close to his mouth.
He nodded absently. He didn’t think he was good, though.
He had… mixed feelings. Feelings that made him feel terrible.
“Do you believe that thing they say about how a Gifted couple can only have one Gifted child?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“Oh.” Dorthna dropped the mug on the table. “Do you know The Blight and his wife?”
“I do.”
The Blight and his wife were famous because of the wife. The Delver had some type of necrotic skill that made people decay from the outside. It was part of, if not the main reason, he was given the nickname The Blight.
But his wife was the reason people even paid attention to him. She was a Gifted detective in one of the cities, and was famous for the part she played in apprehending Gifted criminals. If there were supervillains, she would be a superhero.
She wasn’t the only one of her kind, though. Almost all police precincts had a Gifted detective department of sorts. Detectives and police officers who were called in when the problems became of a Gifted nature.
Melmarc also knew where his uncle was going with it.
“I know they’ve got two Gifted kids, but they’re more like the exception, not the rule.”
“Maybe,” Dorthna agreed. “But… wait, didn’t you once say you didn’t believe in all that mumbo-jumbo. Y’know, like mana isn’t some sentient will that picks who gets skills and all that?”
Melmarc looked down and away. “I don’t. But I’m asking you because you used to be a Delver, so you should know more than me about these things.”
“Mel.”
Melmarc let out a shaky exhale. “Yes, uncle.”
Dorthna said nothing. Instead, he let out a sigh of his own.
“I’m not going to get any skill, am I?” Melmarc could feel the tears in his eyes, and they stung. “Gifted parents get one Gifted child, and Ark is the one this family’s got.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm before the tears could fall. “I know I should be happy for Ark, and I swear I am. It’s just… it’s just…”
“Mel.”
“Yes, uncle,” Melmarc sniffled.
“You’ve got to look at me if you want the answer, kiddo.”
Melmarc composed himself as best he could and looked up at his uncle.
Dorthna gave him a fond smile. “Mana is not some sentient being that gets to pick and choose who gets skills. It’s like being tall or being short. Some people get it and some people don’t. There’s no rule that says Gifted parents only get one Gifted child.”
Melmarc hated this. He was supposed to be celebrating with Ark about getting a class, even if it was something as ominous as Demon Lord. But here he was, crying like a child about not having any.
“Do you know why people think Gifted parents only get one Gifted child?” Dorthna asked.
Melmarc shook his head.
“It’s because most of the Gifted that get married to each other tend to be Delvers. And Delvers are committed to their craft. They spend most of their adult lives risking their lives to keep the world safe. They understand that it’s an important task, so they rarely make out time to have children. The few that do usually end up with maybe one or two.”
Melmarc wiped what was left of his unshed tears and put his head back to stop the slowly beginning flow of snot.
Uncle Dorthna continued to look at him fondly.
They remained that way in silence for a while. Melmarc was happy that Ark wasn’t here to see it and his sister wasn’t either.
After a while, his uncle sipped his water again. “You good?”
Melmarc pulled his head forward and nodded.
“Yea. I think so.” He rested his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands. “Does this make me a bad person?”
Dorthna dropped his mug. “Not really. You know you’re not sad your brother got a class, right?”
“I know.”
“You’re just sad you won’t get one.”
Hearing the word won’t used in the sentence hurt more than Melmarc had expected.
“Or at least you think you won’t,” Dorthna said. “For all you know, another guardian might show up and bite you in the crotch.”
“Is that what it was doing when it was biting him?” Melmarc asked. “Trying to give him powers?”
“That’s how your parents and I saw it. What I’m trying to say is that you’re a good kid. You’re happy for your brother, and you know it. It’s just that right now you’re sad for yourself, and it’s overshadowing your happiness for your brother. Your sadness isn't allowing you see your happiness. Unfortunately, it's the thing with the negatives; the slightest one can cloud the brightest of positives. But don't worry too much about it.”
"But it's not fair." Melmarc stared at the brown table beneath his head. "It shouldn't be that bad."
"Perhaps," Dorthna said. "But that's life. Don't let it get you down, though. Always try to remember the good. But for now, it's alright to be sad for yourself."
Dorthna left his mug on the table and got up. He walked up to Melmarc and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It doesn’t make you a bad person, Mel. It just makes you human.”