Gardens always gave Trixan Yvis a sense of calm and peace. When she was always full of rage, wanting nothing but blood and carnage, the sweet scent of flowers and their dazzling colors would put her mind at ease. She especially needed it tonight, after talking to Pheleraz. He might be here for Hellstorm, but Trixan knew he had other plans. She had known men like Pheleraz Zoleris — men who thought they had the power to control everyone else and use them against their will. As long as Trixan lived, she would not let Pheleraz, or anyone, use Pheera against her will ever again.

Suddenly sensing the vibrations of a heartbeat, Trixan narrowed her eyes. Whoever this heart belonged to was certainly fuming with rage. Trixan followed the sound through the garden, then stopped by the lake where Narvari sat. Why wasn’t she with Pheera?

Did something happen?

They sat in silence, enjoying the cool evening breeze when Narvari suddenly turned to look at her with wide eyes. “Trixan? When did you get here?”

What could Narvari be thinking about to not even notice Trixan’s presence? “Are you alright, my dear?”

She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Trixan sighed. Was the girl really fine? A demon stabbed her in the heart after all. Maybe physically, Narvari was fine, but Trixan worried that the girl might be emotionally scarred. She wished Narvari would feel safe enough to tell her anything. “I thought you were with Pheera,” said Trixan.

“Yeah, I was. Pheleraz wanted to talk to her alone.” Narvari paused. “I hate that guy. I have a bad feeling about him,” Narvari said. “What if he tries to take Pheera away?”

“That’s not going to happen, my dear.”

“How can you be so sure? How do you know he’s not teleporting her out of here right now?”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Trixan had considered that possibility and had already taken care of that. As long as she was here, Pheera was safe. Not even Pheleraz would dare do anything stupid.

“But I’m worried about her.”

Trixan nodded. “I know.”

Narvari clenched her jaws. “How are you always so calm? Sometimes it’s like you don’t even care about anything with your indifference.”

The words cut through Trixan’s heart like a knife. Was that what Narvari thought of her? That she didn’t care about her vanquishers? Trixan’s hurt feelings must have been visible on her face because Narvari’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?” asked Trixan.

“Everything. I didn’t mean it like that.” Narvari bit her lips. “What I said to you, the last time… I was… I know you care, Trixan. Zemeron told me how you helped Pheera. I just… I don’t know why I said what I said.”

“You were in pain. I understand.” Trixan smiled. “But you were right. What happened to Pheera was my fault. I should never have sent junior vanquishers on a suicide mission.”

“Trixan, that’s not true. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay. You were still right,” said Trixan, “I should have been more prepared.”

As much as Trixan wanted to prove the Draghein Family wrong, her pride meant nothing where the safety of her vanquishers was involved. Narvari had said that she would never forgive her if Pheera never recovered. The truth was that Trixan would never have forgiven herself.

“Well,” said Narvari, “we’re prepared now, aren’t we? We have more senior vanquishers to handle the higher-order missions. Speaking of missions, when do we begin? I’m getting bored.”

“My dear, you’re still on sick leave.”

“But I’m not sick. I feel much better.”

“You and your friends should relax and enjoy yourselves… Maybe go out for a while. Have fun.”

“Out?” Narvari raised a brow. “Like outside the school?”

“Of course. Go get some fresh air. You deserve it after everything you’ve been through.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You deserve a vacation too,” said Narvari. “I can see it in your eyes, Trixan. You are exhausted. I can only imagine with everything going on.” Narvari paused. Carefully, she added, “With Hellstorm.” Trixan’s expression remained unchanged. When she said nothing, Narvari continued, “He was your teacher, wasn’t he?”

After a brief hesitation, Trixan nodded.

“It must be hard hearing all these rumors about your teacher.”

“I don’t think it would be that hard if he had been only my teacher,” said Trixan. “He was… everything to me.”

“Were you two um…” Narvari paused. “You know…”

“A couple?” Trixan raised a brow.

The girl nodded.

“God, no.” Trixan chuckled. “He raised me like his own daughter. He was the father I never had.”

“You never had a father?”

“I never knew him.” She’d never talked about her past to anyone else other than Hellstorm and Rizav. Even then, only Hellstorm truly knew what her past had been like. As much as Trixan hated remembering or talking about her past, the curious sincerity in Narvari’s eyes made her want to open up. “I don’t think my mother knew who my father was either. ‘Your father could be any man in this town,’ she often said.” Trixan laughed bitterly. “And she was probably right. All I remember as a child were the scores of men who often visited her. Until I watched one of them beat her to death because she stole from him.”

“What?” Narvari paled. “My goodness. How old were you then?”

“Four. Maybe five.” Trixan didn’t think Narvari’s eyes could open wider but they did. “No one steals from Xalta and lives,” said Trixan. “But I was sick, you know. And my mother was desperate.”

“Jesus, Trixan. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about my dear.”

“What happened to you?” Narvari asked.

“Xalta took me in.”

“Wait… The same man who killed your mother?”

Trixan nodded. “He said since my mother stole from him I had to pay her debt by stealing for him. I grew up in his gang.”

As Trixan recalled those dark days, she fished her golden locket from her pocket. It held so many memories. Back then, they stole, pillaged, killed, and just about terrorized the poor town. Xalta planned elaborate schemes to rob wealthy people in different dominions across Agon. As vicious as he was, he was also a careful man so he was never caught. Then one day, Xalta’s spies told him that a wealthy merchant would be passing through their town. He prepared everything to the last detail selecting eight gang members who would ambush the merchant. Trixan happened to be among the group while Xalta himself was not. And as luck would have it, their plan backfired.

The merchant annihilated them so easily like they were nothing but ants to him. But even after most of the gang fell or ran away in fear, Trixan would not give up. She couldn’t go back to Xalta without anything valuable. So she refused to give up.

Each time Trixan got beat up, she got back up and resumed her attack with her knife. He, on the other hand, swatted at her like an annoying fly, flinging her back violently. As strong as the merchant was, Trixan knew that the man was not even using an ounce of his full strength. He couldn’t be a mere merchant, could he? How could he have so easily dealt with an armed group, most of whom had awakened sacros? He didn’t even use sacred energy either and yet, Trixan couldn’t lay a hand on him.

The one-sided pummeling continued until Trixan was nothing but a bloody mess. Her knees caved in as her entire body ached in anguish. Probably thinking that Trixan had finally given up, the merchant turned to leave. But he instantly halted and gaped at Trixan when she stood back up, panting heavily. Trixan deftly lunged toward the man, knife in hand. His body moved like fluid. This time, he didn’t attack back, but only evaded Trixan’s manic attacks until the pangs of hunger arrested her limbs and squeezed the life out of her. She fell to the ground, breathing heavily like a fish out of water.

Xalta warned her she would have nothing to eat if she failed to steal anything valuable today. Why wouldn’t the merchant just let her take one valuable thing? Just one. He was rich, wasn’t he? She glared at him. All he did was look at her in silence. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. What the hell was he smiling at? Did he think this was funny? The rage ravaged her like an inferno. With wobbly limbs, she managed to get back on her feet. As dizzy as she was, she willed herself to stand firm. She kept her eyes on one thing — the gold locket around his neck. That must be worth a fortune. She had to get it all cost. She couldn’t go back empty-handed.

“Is this what you want, child?” The man tugged at his gold locket. “Do you really want to die because of this?”

Trixan’s chest heaved up and down. “I’ll die anyway if I don’t get it.”

His smile disappeared. Why was he looking at her like that? Men often looked at her with savage hunger and lust, as if they would tear her apart any moment. It made her skin crawl, and all she ever wanted to do was gouge out their eyes. But not this man. There was something else in his dark brown eyes. She couldn’t quite place it, but it was neither lust nor pity. It was something else, and it confused her.

“How old are you, child.”

“Ten.”

He flinched. “What’s your name?”

“Trixan,” she said. “Trixan Yvis.”

That brought a smile to his face. “Ah, little Trixan… Trixi.”

Trixi? She frowned. “I’m not a child. Don’t talk to me like one.”

The man chuckled. “You have quite the temper, Trixi.” In a more serious tone, he added, “And quite the perseverance.” He sauntered closer. In his black clothes, he completely melded with the night. An aura of danger shrouded his body.

Why did Xalta think robbing someone like this was a good idea? But it was too late to turn back now. She would take the golden locket and everything else he had on him. Barley had that thought left her mind when her knife suddenly vanished from her hand. She gaped at her empty grip. What just happened? And where did the man go? He was in front of her a few seconds ago.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Now you’re weaponless.” The words came from behind. Trixan quickly spun around only to find the man twirling her knife around like a toy. Fear instantly chilled Trixan’s heart.

This man was faster than anyone she had ever seen. One second he was walking toward her and the next second, he had already disarmed her. Not even Xalta was this swift. Was he a vanquisher? She’s heard how incredible vanquishers were. Their training made them faster and stronger than the average person.

Trixan took a few steps back.

“Are you afraid?”

She halted. He was taunting her. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Oh.” The man smiled. “Then what do you plan to do?”

“Give me that locket and I won’t kill you.”

There was a moment of stunned silence until the man burst into hysterical laughter. “You are one brave child, Trixi.”

“Stop calling me that.” The fear was completely gone, replaced with anger. The same anger that always plagued her heart ever since she saw Xalta murder her mother. Over the years, the anger had only grown worse… magnifying into an unadulterated rage with all the things she had been through. All those men — 

“Why do you want it so badly?” the man interrupted her thoughts. “All your friends have already run away.”

“They are not my friends.”

“No? But you were with them.”

“It doesn’t make them my friends.”

“I guess that’s fair.” The man nodded slowly. “But I’m sorry, Trixi. I can’t give you this locket. It’s too special to me. Unfortunately, I have no money on me either.”

“Then I guess I have to settle for the locket.”

“I told you I’m not giving it to you.”

“I’ll take it by force.”

“You will die trying, Trixi.”

“If I go back empty-handed,” Trixan yelled, “he’s going to kill me or… or worse.”

“Who?” The man narrowed his eyes. “And what can be worse than death, my dear little one?”

Trixan bit her lips, avoiding the man’s gaze. “Just give it to me,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Who’s going to kill you, Trixi?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“I thought you said you were not afraid of anything.” He wasn’t smiling anymore. Was he angry with her? Would he try to hurt her? That was okay. Nothing he would do could be worse than Xalta, right?

“I’m not afraid of you,” said Trixan.

“Maybe not. But you’re afraid of someone. Who’s going to kill you if you return empty-handed?”

Trixan clenched her jaws. Why was he so interested? What did he care? “I won’t tell you anything.”

“You’re stubborn.” He lowered his gaze. “And apparently, you’re not well.”

Just like that, Trixan felt the energy drain from her body as the hunger started to get to her. She had not eaten since last night, and the mission tonight was supposed to be her chance to eat something. The world spun around her and she fell. She couldn’t move even as the man squatted next to her.

What was he going to do to her? His hand came closer. Trixan clenched her teeth and shut her eyes. He was going to touch her and do things to her. Just like every other man. She always tried to fight them off, but they were too strong. If only she had awakened her sacros, she would have been strong enough to protect herself. All she could do for now was pretend this was not happening.

Then the man’s hand rested on her forehead. How could such a rough hand be so gentle?

“You’re burning up,” he said before carrying Trixan like a baby. Where was he taking her? She wanted to ask. But like every part of her body, her voice was too exhausted. Eventually, darkness enveloped her.

When Trixan opened her eyes, she found herself in a massive bed with the softest and silkiest blankets. Was she dead? That could be it. Because why else would she be surrounded by so much whiteness? The bed sheets, the pillows, the wall, and even her clothes were white. My clothes. Where were they? Who changed them?

She tried to get out of bed but something held her hand back. There was a thin transparent tube stuck in the back of her palm. Was she in a hospital? No, it looked more like a bedroom. A very wealthy person’s bedroom. Trixan suddenly screamed when her eyes fell on a handsome dark-skinned man watching her with intrigue.

“Morning to you too, Trixi,” he said.

“It’s you,” said Trixan after she calmed down. “What are you doing here?” She touched the tube in her hand. “What’s this?”

“One question at a time, Trixi. Firstly, what am I doing here? This is my home.” He shrugged. “Secondly, you passed out from hunger. That tube is the only way to get food inside your body. Any more questions, Trixi?”

Now that she thought about it, her body pulsated with energy. She couldn’t remember a time when she had felt so nourished before.

“Who are you?” Looking at the exquisiteness of the room, and all the stylish furniture, elegant carpets, and curtains, there was no doubt this man was wealthy. Had Xalta been right in thinking he was a merchant? But he didn’t have any goods or money when they attacked him either.

“Forgive my manners,” said the man. “Since I know your name, it’s only fair you know mine. People call me Hellstorm.”

It took a while for the name to register in Trixan’s head. “What?” She gawked at him. “But you don’t look like Hellstorm.”

His eyes lit in amusement. “And what does Hellstorm look like?”

“He wears a scary skeleton mask,” she said. “And he wears a hat.”

“So Hellstorm looks like a skeleton mask?”

Trixan paused. “Well, no. But… I don’t know. I’ve never seen his face. I only see pictures of him.” Trixan eyed the man carefully. Was he really Hellstorm? He did have a similar stature as Hellstorm. And besides, she had seen how fast that man was, how he had easily defeated every last one of them. That was something Hellstorm could easily do, right? Suddenly, something dawned on Trixan sending a chill down her spine. “You’re a Draghein?” she whispered.

What was Xalta thinking making them rob a Draghein? As greedy as Xalta was, he was no fool to go after any of the Dominant Families. Xalta loved money, but he loved his life more. Did he not know that the merchant they went after was no merchant but one of the beloved sons of the Draghein Family? Or was this man lying about who he was? Trixan frowned. Xalta wouldn’t be that careless. He was a lot of deplorable things, but he was no fool. And only a fool would dare offend someone from the Dominant Families. As the ruling class of Agon, those families were as powerful as they were unforgiving. She’d heard so many dangerous things about them that sounded like they were plucked straight out of a fantasy book.

“Your face just went through so many emotions, Trixi.” He grinned “Don’t worry, no harm shall come to you.” He seemed to be speaking the truth about being Hellstorm. Why would anyone lie about that though? Who would be so insolent to impersonate Hellstorm? “How do you feel now?” Hellstorm asked.

“Fine,” Trixan said in a hoarse voice. “A lot better.”

Hellstorm nodded. “Good.”

“Can I go back home?” The word home burned her tongue. She had never felt at home. That place was worse than Bezvar. But it was the only place she had. She wouldn’t dare run away. Xalta would chase her to the ends of the earth, and once he found her, he would beat her until she was unconscious, then give her to the lecherous men in her gang to do whatever they pleased with her, before discarding her body on a dumpster in the slums of Jetra. Those were Xalta’s very words and he never broke his word, especially if they were detailing all the horrors he would inflict.

“You do not wish to stay here?” Hellstorm asked.

Stay here? “Are you crazy?” Or maybe she was the crazy one. Why would she go back to hell when she could stay here in this paradise? But what if this was no paradise? What if this became worse than the nightmare she was already living? She would rather go back. “I can’t stay.”

“Xalta is dead.” The words flowed calmly from his mouth like he was talking about something as simple as breakfast. But as calm as Hellstorm was, a storm loomed within his midnight-black eyes. Maybe people were on to something when they called him Hellstorm.

Wait… how did he know about Xalta? “Did you kill him?” she asked calmly. Never had she felt so calm in her life. It was almost liberating.

“Yes.” Hellstorm did not waver for a moment.

“Okay.” Trixan sighed. “Thank you.”

Hellstorm smiled. “You thank me for killing a man.”

“An evil man.”

“Trixan Yvis.” It was the second time he had called her by her full name, and from the graveness in his eyes, he was serious about something. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again. You have my word.” The graveness melted, and a fond smile lit his young handsome face. “In the meantime, you can stay here as long as you need, Trixi. We have the finest garden in the whole of Agon. You’re going to love it.”

Her chest tightened. Why would he say this to her? Why would he help her? She had tried to steal from him and even tried to kill him. Why was he being so nice to her? “What do you want in return?” she asked.

Hellstorm paused. “What do you want to give me in return?”

“I… I don’t know. I have nothing”

“Of course you do.” She knew she shouldn’t have raised her hopes. She was nothing but a filthy orphan. Why would anyone do anything for her for free? Did he want her body? Men usually did. They took one look at her and became possessed with lust. They didn’t care if she was only a child. Maybe just like her mother, she too was cursed. “Trixi,” said Hellstorm, “do you not know what you have?”

My body? She clenched her jaws. It was always what they wanted. Even Xalta, who loved to use her as a punching bag always refused to hit her face because he said it was her best asset. “I could make a lot of money with that face of yours,” Xalta would often say. Her skin crawled. Even Hellstorm turned out to be like everyone else. Like Xalta.

“Courage and strength,” Hellstorm said.

Trixan froze. She slowly looked up at Hellstorm. “What?”

“I want nothing in return, Trixi,” he said, “but if you want to give me something, then give me your courage and strength.”

Courage and strength? What was he blabbering about? “But I’m not strong.” If she were strong, she would have killed Xalta long before he killed her mother. If she were strong, no man would dare force themselves on her. She would kill them before they tried. She was nothing but a weak little girl.

Hellstorm was on his feet, watching him with a small smile. What was he thinking? Trixan thought. What did he mean by giving him her courage and strength? He already had plenty of it. He was the great Hellstorm. He had everything he could ever want. Trixan’s gaze fell on Hellstorm’s locket.

He chuckled. “You still can’t have my locket, Trixi.” Her face burned in embarrassment. She wasn’t trying to steal the necklace anymore; she was simply enchanted by its beauty. “Why don’t you rest up a bit,” he said. “I’d like you to meet someone later.”

Trixan simply nodded, lying back in the bed. She wasn’t exhausted anymore. But she didn’t feel like getting out of bed either. She quietly watched as Hellstorm walked out of the massive room. Would she really be safe here?

Clasping the locket in her hand, Trixan smiled fondly. They brought back so many memories.

“Hellstorm gave you a home.” Narvari interrupted her thoughts.

Trixan nodded. “He made me feel safe. He promised me no one would ever hurt me again, and he kept his word.”

“He sounds like a great man,” said Narvari. “I hope the Order is wrong about him being a demon.” She froze, the light in her eyes darkening immediately. Then she touched her chest.

Trixan put an arm on Narvari’s shoulder. “My dear, are you in pain?”

Narvari seemed a little confused and dazed. After hesitating for a while, she forced a smile and shook her head. “No.”

“Are you sure? Don’t hide things from me, Narvari. Your health is my utmost concern.”

“I’m sure, Trixan. I promise.” This time the smile genuinely lit up Narvari’s brown face. “I see why Yanvirrak was mad when I said you didn’t care about us. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my dear. Doubt is part of the trusting process.”

A moment of silence ensued between the two.

“Trixan?”

“Hmm.”

“Is it really bad if Hellstorm is a demon?”

Trixan raised a brow. Where did this question come from all of a sudden?

“I’m sorry,” said Narvari. “I just… I don’t know. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s alright, my dear. Why do you ask?”

Narvari shrugged. “It’s just that you once told me that not all demons were malevolent and that the Order doesn’t target those who don’t cause any trouble. If Hellstorm is a demon, maybe he isn’t malevolent either so why is the Order so worried?”

“Maybe they are afraid of what he could do, my dear. Hellstorm is an incredibly powerful vanquisher. The Order might fail to stop him if he turns out to be a malevolent demon.”

“But from the kind of man he was, I don’t think he would be malevolent.” Narvari paused. “Unless all demons are inherently evil even if they don’t want to be.”

“No one is inherently evil, my dear,” said Trixan. “Not even demons.” Something flickered in Narvari’s eyes. She wanted to say something, but she held her tongue. What could be going through her mind? Why was she asking all these questions about demons? “Don’t worry about Hellstorm being a demon,” said Trixan. “Not even the Demon King himself can turn him into his lackey.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Trixan smiled. “I just know.”

“I wish I could meet the man who has so much of your trust and respect.”

“All of my trust and respect,” Trixan corrected.

“I see what you mean… There was a time when a man had all of my trust and respect too.” Narvari sighed. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Narvari, about your father — ”

“It’s fine, Trixan.”

“I told you I’d help you find him.”

“You don’t have to do it anymore.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m exhausted. I wanted to find him so I don’t get angry with him. But I’m not angry anymore. Just… indifferent. He left and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Trixan remained silent. Ever since Narvari mentioned her father’s name, Trixan couldn’t stop thinking about it. But the more she considered that possibility, the more she felt that it could not be right. Narvari was eighteen years old now, and according to her, her father had left when she was twelve years old. The timing was just off. It couldn’t be the same person.

“I have other things to worry about,” said Narvari.

“Like what?”

“Pheera,” she said. “Now that Pheleraz is here, I have to keep a close eye on him and make sure she’s safe. She’s not comfortable around him.”

Trixan nodded. She too had been worried that Pheleraz’s presence might be triggering for Pheera. “I’m glad Pheera has you,” said Trixan. “But you shouldn’t worry too much. Like I said go out and have some fun.” A thought occurred to Trixan and she smiled widely. “Why don’t you go with Pheera? I think she’d like that too.”

Narvari gaped. “You want me to go out with Pheera?”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“Well, yes. But you asked me to stay away from her.”

Yes, she did, mostly because Trixan didn’t want Narvari to get caught up in Zoleris drama. But she’d never seen Pheera get so intimately close to anyone as she was with Narvari. The girl had even risked her life for Narvari while Narvari was prepared to keep Pheera safe, even if it meant pissing off the Zoleris Family. Wouldn’t it be cruel of Trixan to separate them when they clearly loved each other?

“Just be careful,” said Trixan. Neither Pheleraz nor Esumeraz would like it if they learned that Pheera loved a commoner from the Outer Sphere.