When word went out that the Hellstorm had finally been arrested vanquishers gathered in the hallways of the Academy to see the legend for themselves. Rumors had it that the man was a demon now. Two Vanquishers carried an unconscious white man with sandy brown hair.
“Is that Hellstorm?” Narvari asked.
“No,” said Yanvirrak. “That’s him over there.” Yanvirrak pointed to another group of vanquishers escorting a tall, heavily built man. He wore a cowboy hat and a mask designed with a skeleton jaw that covered the lower half of his face. He also wore handcuffs and a black collar around his neck. No one was touching him and neither was he resisting at all.
So that was Hellstorm. He surely looked intimidating. She could see why he had the entire Order so worked up. The Academy was dead silent as the vanquishers led Hellstorm away. Then, as Hellstorm passed, Narvari felt the man’s gaze was on her. She couldn’t help but feel scrutinized. She frowned. Why did it feel like there was something vaguely familiar about him? Even as they led him away, Narvari wouldn’t stop staring at his back. She tightened her grip on Pheera’s wheelchair. What was this feeling? Something about this man seemed to pull her in like a magnet. Whatever it was, she needed to figure it out.
“Hey, Narvari.” Yanvirrak tapped her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I just…” How should she explain this? Her eyes darted towards Hellstorm and the vanquishers. She had to follow them. “I’m sorry guys. I have to go.”
“Where?” Pheera asked.
“I’ll tell you later.” Then turning to Yanvirrak she said, “Can you take her back? Thanks.”
Not waiting for Yanvirrak to reply, Narvari ran after Hellstorm’s entourage. She halted as the vanquishers opened a door and entered the room. They soon came out without Hellstorm. When she was sure the vanquishers were gone, she walked towards the room. A large glass embedded in the wall made it possible to see inside the room. And there, sat Hellstorm, chained to the table. Wait… this was the same room she was confined in when Zemeron ‘arrested’ her. Narvari pressed her hand to the glass. What was this feeling? What was she doing here? And more importantly, why did it feel like she’d seen this man somewhere before? But that was impossible.
“You’re not supposed to be here?”
Narvari clenched her jaws as Pheleraz’s annoying voice interrupted her voice. She glared at him, ready to fire some choice words at him. But upon seeing Trixan, Narvari checked her emotions.
“You should leave,” Pheleraz demanded. “Now.”
Ignoring him, Narvari asked Trixan, “What are you going to do to Hellstorm?”
“It’s none of your business,” Pheleraz snapped.
“I don’t remember talking to you.”
“That’s enough,” said Trixan. She looked at Narvari sternly. “You can’t be here, my dear.”
“I know.” She looked back at Hellstorm. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“We’re going to ask him some questions.”
Narvari nodded. “Can I stay behind?”
“My dear — ”
“I’ll just be right here,” said Narvari quickly. “I only want to see what he looks like. I’ve heard so much about him.”
Trixan didn’t say anything for a while. “Alright then.”
“Really?” Narvari grinned.
The Elder shrugged. “You’re not going to hear anything anyway.”
Pheleraz on the other hand didn’t look pleased at all. But he didn’t protest. He followed Trixan into the room while Narvari stood behind to watch through the glass. Trixan was right. Narvari could not hear a thing. It looked like Pheleraz was doing all the talking. With a victorious smirk on his face, he stood behind Hellstorm and rested his hands on the man’s shoulders. Gosh, how smug was this guy? It was like he had a personal vendetta against Hellstorm or something. Pheleraz took off Hellstorm’s hat and threw it on the table. For the first time, Narvari saw the man’s dark brown eyes. Those very familiar eyes. But it was the thin scar on his forehead that arrested Narvari’s attention. She froze. No. It couldn’t be. She was mistaken. It certainly couldn’t be him. The thought had barely formed in her mind when Pheleraz suddenly ripped Hellstorm’s mask off.
The world seemed to disappear. “Papa?” Narvari gaped. How can this be? “Why the hell is my father in there?” Her father was Hellstorm? Yabaga was Hellstorm? But that was impossible. That couldn’t be possible. Hellstorm was a vanquisher and he had been dead for twenty years. How the hell could he be her father? Only one person had the answers to her questions. Without thinking, she ran into the room.
“Hey,” Pheleraz yelled. “What the hell are you doing here? Get out.”
“Narvari.” Trixan was instantly on her feet. “You can’t be here.”
Ignoring them both, she went straight to her father and banged the table violently. “What’s wrong with you?” Narvari’s hands trembled. If rage could kill, her father would be dead. “You left for six years and now what? You pretend you don’t even know me? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Little princess — ” Hellstorm began.
“Don’t call me that. I’m not little anymore. If you were around, you’d know that.”
“Narvari.” He took Narvari’s hand but she pulled away from Hellstorm. Or Yabaga… Whatever the hell his name was. “I was only trying to protect you.”
“What’s going on?” Trixan asked.
“Does it matter?” Pheleraz asked. “Just get that maniac out of here.”
“I’m not leaving this place.” Narvari glared at Pheleraz. She was way past the point of civility, and if this man kept getting on her nerves, she would punch him in the face. “I’m not leaving until I get answers from my father.”
“Your father?” Pheleraz and Trixan both said at the same time. “That demon is your father?” said Pheleraz. “You’re a Draghein?” He turned to Trixan with a questioning look. But Trixan’s stoic expression didn’t change.
Stolen novel; please report.
Narvari’s attention went back to her father. “How could you leave us? Do you have any idea what happened to us? We were attacked by demons. Anana and Jimbaga died. So many people died. You are a vanquisher and yet you weren’t there to do anything.” She clenched her fists while searing heat scorched her veins. “Is that what you call protection? Huh?”
“I came back home as soon as I heard. Didn’t Dawuli tell you?”
“Yeah, well, you were too late.” Narvari’s tone dripped with venom. “You were never there. What happened to Sharmandi was all your fault. You did this.”
“Narvari, I can explain.”
“Explain?” Narvari laughed mirthlessly. This man was a vanquisher and yet he abandoned them like that. And for what? A woman who abandoned Narvari as a baby? “Sure. Explain. Why did you leave your twelve-year-old child alone with your ninety-five-year-old mother? Why weren’t you there when those demons attacked? I mean you can teleport, right? So where the hell were you? Explain that.”
Hellstorm’s eyes softened. “Trixi. I need to speak to my daughter alone. Please.”
“I’ve had enough of this charade,” Pheleraz said. “Whatever this is, it’s over. You are in no position to make demands, Hellstorm. I call the shots here.” Turning his icy gaze to Narvari he continued, “And as for you, child of a demon — ”Pheleraz and Narvari were now standing face to face. She glared at the man with the same intensity of hate Pheleraz meted out to her. Fortunately, before Narvari could entertain the homicidal thoughts feeling at home in her mind, Trixan stood between them.
“Be careful of what you say or do next, Pheleraz Zoleris,” Trixan said rather calmly.
“I’ll listen to her if I were you,” Hellstorm said.
The fire in Pheleraz’s eyes didn’t extinguish. “Clearly, you’re emotionally compromised in this case,” he said. “I declare Code 668.”
“Go ahead,” said Trixan. “But I’m still going to keep an eye on both of you.”
“I’m sure you are, Yvis. Just get the girl out of here.”
Before Narvari could unleash the venom on her tongue, Trixan turned to her. “Go back to your room, Narvari,” said Trixan. Shit, she’s angry. Narvari gulped. “We’ll talk about this later,” said Trixan.
Looking one last time at her father, Narvari nodded and left. She couldn’t believe that her father was the same man who had raised Trixan. Those two owed her an explanation. Not that she wanted to hear it from her father. That man could go to hell. Again.
----------------------------------------
Narvari paced inside her room, deeply lost in thought. Her father was Yabaga. Why the hell was he Hellstorm? When did he become Hellstorm? Hellstorm died… or disappeared twenty years ago. But Yabaga had raised her since she was a baby until she was twelve. That was eighteen years ago. She shook her head. What was going on? None of this made any sense. But the man sitting in the interrogation room was no doubt her father. He looked younger than he did six years ago, but it was still him. She knew it. How did that even happen? Was he aging backward or something?
Narvari rubbed her forehead. People were saying Hellstorm was a demon. But Hellstorm was her father, and her father was no demon. She hated the man for leaving, but all the time he stayed, he was a great father. How could someone like that be a demon? Then again, her father had his secrets. Hell, he never told Narvari about being a vanquisher nor did he tell her about her mother. Certainly, if he were a demon, he wouldn’t tell Narvari either.
Narvari froze. Was her father a demon? Would that make her a demon too? Was that why she could heal so quickly?
I’m a demon.
Narvari staggered backward as the energy slowly drained from her legs. Her head pounded, threatening to explode. Suddenly, she felt like she was trapped in a tiny space without any oxygen. The walls of the room seemed to be closing in on her. Narvari’s chest heaved and her breath quickened. She fell to her knees and grabbed her chest. Her breath came in heavy gasps as her body shook violently.
Water. It felt like she was drowning in a vast pool of water.
A knock on the door.
Then another.
Then silence.
Narvari could not move. Nor speak. Her chest beat like a drum
Suddenly the door flung open.
“Narvari.” She knew this voice. Narvari gasped as strong arms lifted her from the ground. “Hey, hey, look at me.” Narvari stared into Pheera’s beautiful blue eyes. “Breathe slowly. Slowly.” The calmness of Pheera’s voice soothed her. “I’m right here,” said Pheera, “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
It felt easier to breathe again, however, the quivering did not stop. Neither could she hold back the tears that suddenly burst from deep within her soul.
“Let it all out,” Pheera whispered. “Let it all out.” Then she carried Narvari in her arms like she weighed nothing at all. Narvari wanted to protest about Pheera still recovering from her injuries, but she was too drained to argue. Instead, she curled herself up in Pheera’s arms, reveling in her soft warm body. It took Narvari a while to realize that Pheera had put her back in bed. Pheera lay next to her and said, “Trixan told me what happened. She wanted me to make sure you were okay. How do you feel?”
“Better now.”
Pheera smiled and kissed Narvari’s forehead. “Good.” They were silent for a while until Pheera said, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It felt like I was dying,” said Narvari. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come here.”
“I’m here now.” Pheera stroked her cheeks.
“Pheera.”
“Hmm.”
“They’re saying Hellstorm is a demon… and he’s my father.” Narvari paused, letting her words sink in.
“I already told you, Narvari. Whatever you are has never mattered to me.”
“But it matters to me.” Narvari instantly sat up in her bed, quickly regretting she had raised her voice. She clenched her jaws. “I’m sorry. I just… All demons ever do is destroy,” said Narvari. “Maybe now I have the choice to choose between right and wrong. But what if someday I don’t have that choice anymore? What if all I ever want to do is hurt innocent people?” Her voice became a whisper. “What if I hurt you?”
“You won’t hurt me.” Pheera took Narvari’s hand.
“Pheera, I would rather die than hurt you. Ever. But what if it’s something I can’t control?”
“You don’t know that.”
“And you don’t know I won’t be a danger to you.” Narvari’s eyes stung with tears.
“It still hasn’t been confirmed yet if Hellstorm is indeed a demon. And even if it turns out to be true, and somehow that makes you a demon, I don’t care about that. I know you will never hurt me, Narvari. I just know it.”
Narvari hugged Pheera. They were in that position for a long time until Narvari slowly pulled out of Pheera’s embrace feeling a little embarrassed for crying so much. She has been crying so much these days, it was pretty exhausting. And it was all because of him. It was all his fault. That lying bastard.
“How could he just leave us like that,” said Narvari. The sadness in her heart turned stone cold. “He’s a vanquisher, and yet he wasn’t there when we needed him most. How could he do that to us? I lost my family because of him. People died because of him. Because he left. It was all his fault.”
“You know Stein was responsible for that. Not your father.”
Of course, she knew that. But it was easier to blame her father. “None of that would have happened if he had never left.”
“And maybe you’re right,” said Pheera. “You have every right to be angry with him for leaving. But ask yourself, would your father have wanted something bad to happen to you or your grandmother? Be honest with yourself.”
Back when her father was the captain of WPU, he had been very protective of Sharmandi. There was no way he would have let anything happen to the town. He would have protected Narvari and Anana with his life. She hated him for leaving, but it was unfair to pin the massacre of her town on him.
“You’re right. Stein was responsible for what happened, not my father,” she said. “But why did he leave?”
“Right now your father is the only one who can give you those answers.”
Narvari said nothing.
“You need to speak to him,” Pheera said.
“I don’t want to see him again.”
“Do you mean that?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Then you should talk to him.”
“I don’t think Pheleraz will allow it.”
“Do you care what Pheleraz thinks?”
That made Narvari chuckle. “No. I don’t.”
“Exactly. Besides, you need Trixan’s permission. Not Pheleraz’s.”
“He seems to hold a personal vendetta against my dad.” Narvari paused. “Against Hellstorm.”
“It’s probably because Hellstorm is a Draghein,” said Pheera. “Pheleraz hates them.”
Yabaga is a Draghein? Wait… How? She could understand if Yabaga was a vanquisher. But how the hell was he a Draghein? He wasn’t even a Shar. It was like she didn’t even know the man at all. Everything she knew about herself was not real. In a single day, she had just found out that one of the most powerful vanquishers alive was her father. At the same time, she could be a demon because her father might be a demon. As if that was not enough, she might as well be a Draghein.
If this was a dream, she was ready to wake up now.