Anana once said that Yabaga had been sad for a long time. Maybe Narvari had been too young to see it then. But now, sitting before her father, the exhaustion and sorrow effusing from him was crystal clear. Even his voice seemed a little gruffer than she remembered. The man was the same, yet he looked entirely different.
“Why do you look so young?” The words came out before she could even think it through. The man she knew six years ago was a lot older. He was in his mid-sixties, but he looked three decades younger.
“Continuous use of sacred energy slows down aging,” said Hellstorm. “I stopped using mine when you were born and only began using it recently. So now I’m back to my usual self.”
Narvari nodded. She knew people from Agon aged slowly. She didn’t know sacred energy was the reason for that.
“Little Princess — ”
“Papa,” Narvari protested.
“I know, I know. You’re not little anymore. But you’ll always be my little princess. You know that.”
Narvari sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this? About vanquishers… about demons? Why hide it from me?”
“I was hoping to keep you away from it. To protect you.”
“Protect me from what? Demons?” Narvari clenched her fists. Why did he keep saying that? “Well, guess what, Papa, those demons still managed to attack Sharmandi. Anana and Jimbaga are dead because of them. And if not for the vanquishers showing up…” Narvari paused, not wanting to think about the rest of what might have happened. She thought she had put the past behind her. It seemed not. What would have been the fate of Sharmandi had Pheera, Yanvirrak, and Azmel not shown up? No matter how fierce the Kirriba were as warriors, those demons were invincible to their attacks. The entire country would have been wiped out unless Narvari had miraculously awakened her vaz somehow.
“You’re right. This was all my fault.”
“Papa,” she took her father’s hand, “it’s not your fault. I only said that because I was angry.”
“No, I should have been there. I should have protected you and your grandmother. I’m sorry I abandoned you.”
Narvari wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to hate him. But this was a man she had idolized for most of her life. “Is it true, Papa?” Narvari asked.
“What?” he asked softly.
“They’re saying you’re a demon. Is it true?”
“Do you believe them?”
“I don’t know what to believe, Papa.” She couldn’t sense any demon energy from him. Then again, if someone as powerful as Yabaga had been turned a demon, he would at least be a greater demon and that meant he could conceal his demon energy. She had to know. “I need you to tell me the truth.” The silence nearly drove Narvari crazy. If Yabaga admitted he was a demon, then that was proof that Narvari was a demon too. The mere thought of that sent chills down her spine.
“My new teleportation ability is indeed powered by demon energy,” he said, “and I’m a lot stronger now. But I’m certainly not a demon, little princess. And that is the truth.”
Narvari released a huge sigh of relief. Suddenly, she felt much lighter, as if a burden weighing a ton had been lifted off her shoulders. She didn’t realize how stifling this had been on her until now. She almost cried tears of joy. “I was so scared,” she said. “I thought I was a demon because you were a demon.”
Hellstorm rubbed his cheeks while avoiding Narvari’s gaze. A lot of things might have changed about her father, but some things never changed — like how her father would avoid her gaze distracting himself with his hands whenever he was hiding something. He had never been good at lying to her.
“Did you get my gift?” Hellstorm asked before Narvari could probe further. Now he was changing the subject. Yes, the man was definitely hiding something. But she was too confused by the question to keep dwelling on what her father was hiding.
“What gift?”
Hellstorm raised a brow. “I left something with Dawuli. I told him to give it to you as soon as you returned.”
“Oh,” said Narvari, suddenly recalling what her father was talking about. “He did.”
“Did you like it?”
Narvari shrugged. “I don’t know what’s inside.”
“You haven’t opened it?” His gaze widened.
“Sorry. I was too angry with you to open it.”
Hellstorm nodded. “I understand. I’m just glad you have it now. You should take good care of it.”
“What’s inside?”
His smile lit up his eyes. It was the first genuine smile Narvari had seen from him since they started talking. “Something that belonged to your mother,” he said, still smiling.
“My mother?” This was the first time her father had talked about her mother willingly.
Hellstorm nodded. “There’s something you have to know about her.”
“That she’s alive?” He gaped, completely speechless. Ignoring his shock, Narvari added, “Why did you hide it from me?”
“How did you — ”
“Anana told me before she died.”
“I’m sorry, little princess.”
“Papa, I just want you to tell me the truth. Why didn’t you tell me about her? Where is she? Did you leave us to go and look for her? She abandoned us.”
“Narvari,” her father quickly interrupted. He shook his head slowly and then pointed to the cameras with his gaze. “We can’t talk about this here. It’s not safe. You’re not safe.”
“What are you talking about?” What was so dangerous about talking about her mother here? Was her mother wanted by the Ancient Order of Vanquishers too?
“Listen to me, Narvari.” Her father held her hands firmly, his light brown eyes staring profoundly at her. “You can’t trust anyone here. Not even Trixan.”
Narvari frowned and pulled her hands away. “You don’t trust Trixan?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust her.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s complicated.”
“So explain it to me. I’m not a child.”
“I’m just trying to protect you.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Narvari banged the table hard. “You keep saying you want to protect me but all you do is piss me off when I hear it.” She bit her lips, willing herself to calm down. She was here for answers. She shouldn’t be losing her cool, especially when they had so little time. “Who exactly are you protecting me from? Trixan?” Narvari chuckled mirthlessly. “She has been there for me all this time. Where were you then?”
“I do not doubt that Trixan loves you,” Hellstorm said. “I raised her as my own long before I had you and I know she will protect you no matter what. But for how long can she do that? Once everyone finds out who you are… what you are…” Hellstorm sighed. “Sooner or later, little princess, everyone’s going to come after you. That’s why you can’t trust anyone or stay here.”
Narvari’s eyes darkened. “What are you talking about, Papa? Why would everyone come after me?” She paused thoughtfully. Hellstorm said nothing. All he did was watch Narvari with a sad smile. Hellstorm’s words rang in her mind… Once everyone finds out who you are… what you are… Narvari narrowed her eyes. What am I? And then the implication of those words hit her like a mighty tempest. “Papa,” she said quietly with trembling hands, “didn’t you say you’re not a demon so I’m not a demon?”
For the longest time, Hellstorm didn’t answer.
“Papa — ”
“I said I am not a demon, Narvari.”
He was not a demon? What was he talking about? Why was he not telling her what she needed to hear? Why wasn’t he confirming that she too was not a demon? Her heart hammered in her chest. Enough of this hide and seek. It was time to get to the bottom of this shit. “Am I a demon?”
“You’re my little princess.” He squeezed her hand gently.
“Papa!”
“I’m serious, Narvari. You will always be our little princess. Your mother and I love you very much.” His eyes were so sad and red. How big was this secret that he couldn’t even tell her? And why couldn’t he just easily tell her that she wasn’t a demon if she really wasn’t? “Listen to me, Narvari. You have to — ”
“Time’s up,” Pheleraz suddenly burst into the room followed by Trixan. Of course, this man would interrupt at such a critical time. Pheleraz said, “We kept our end of the bargain, Hellstorm. It’s time for you to keep yours.”
“Of course. I always keep my word, Pheleraz. You should learn it sometime.” Hellstorm smirked, the fear instantly disappearing from his eyes. “I can teach you if you want.” Pheleraz glared at the prisoner. It seemed her father’s knack for pissing people off with his words was still there. Good for him.
“You,” Pheleraz pointed at Narvari while ignoring Hellstorm, “leave now.”
Narvari looked longingly at her father. There was more she wanted to know. Even if the Order confirmed that Hellstorm was not a demon, he could still be charged with rescuing those royal demons and obstructing justice. Besides, the man arrested along with Hellstorm was a Vessel. If Hellstorm was using the Vessel to summon demons, the Order would definitely use that against him. What would be his fate then? What was going to happen to her father? She couldn’t lose him again. She just got him back. Before Narvari could stop herself, she hugged her father tightly. God, she had missed him so much.
“Be careful, okay.” He patted her back gently. “Remember what I told you.”
“Don’t leave me again, Papa.”
“I’m not going anywhere, little princess.” Her father had a confident smile, and for a moment, Narvari wanted to believe him. But what if the Order took him away forever? “Trust me, little princess,” Hellstorm said. “I am Hellfuckingstorm. Do you really think anyone can make me do anything against my will?”
“That’s cute,” Pheleraz scoffed. Turning to Narvari, he said, “Get out before I drag you out myself.”
“No need for that,” Trixan intervened. “Come with me, my dear.” When they were outside the room, Trixan said, “Are you okay, my dear?”
Was she okay? She didn’t know exactly how she felt. On one hand, she was glad to be reunited with her father. On the other hand, he might be charged with treason and she would never see him again. Narvari sighed. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest. I’m exhausted.”
Trixan smiled fondly at her. “Of course, my dear.”
----------------------------------------
“Let’s start from the beginning,” said Pheleraz, adjusting himself in his seat.
“I was born in Sharmandi,” began Hellstorm, “in the year — ”
“Not that beginning,” Pheleraz snapped.
“Then what beginning? The Big Bang?”
Trixan shook her head as she gave a wry smile. Even after all these years, Hellstorm and Pheleraz still managed to annoy each other to no end. They were both over two decades older than she, yet she had to be the mature one when those two were in the same room. Not today. She was just here to observe anyway. Code 668 forbade her from getting involved directly.
“How did you get into Bezvar?” asked the Zoleris.
“You already know most of it,” said Hellstorm. “We stopped the Vessels from summoning Bezvaros. I wounded Bezvaros. He stabbed me. And then Ziegler sent me to Bezvar where I ended up with the Demon King. I don’t know how Ziegler did it. You’d have to ask him.”
“What was it like in Bezvar?”
“Oh, it was a breeze,” said Hellstorm. “It was party after party. A real heaven in hell, you know. Bezvaros was so happy to finally meet the man who had almost killed him. It was amazing.” Hellstorm smirked. “How about you take a trip to Bezvar someday, Pheleraz? You’ll feel right at home.”
Pheleraz balled his fists. Okay, this was going nowhere, thought Trixan. She might not be able to directly get involved, but she could remind Hellstorm of his duty.
“Hellstorm, you promised.”
“Fine.” His voice softened, although the anger in his eyes never extinguished. “I was imprisoned and tortured in Izen.” He clenched his jaws.
Izen. After killing demons for thousands of years, the Ancient Order of Vanquishers had a vast collection of knowledge on the affairs of Bezvar. The Lower Domain was divided into seven principalities with each one ruled by the seven princes of the Septos. The Demon King had given his seven princes complete dominion of the seven principalities. Izenros, the last prince of the Septos, reigned over Izen. Izenros. And now everything made sense.
“Izenros tortured you, didn’t he?” asked Trixan.
Hellstorm nodded. “His demons tortured me day and night. I almost lost my mind, you know? I trained my mind to endure the torture. Illusions, dissociation, hallucinations. Anything to keep my mind alive. All I thought about was killing Izenros and Bezvaros. It kept me sane.” She couldn’t imagine what Hellstorm went through. All this time, when she thought he died a hero, it turned out he was being tortured in the Lower Domain. “I lost track of time,” Hellstorm continued. “Then one day, I just snapped. I was so angry I couldn’t take it anymore. All I wanted was to get out of Bezvar. My body had undergone so much torture and pain that it suddenly created a new power. I think my power must have known my deepest desire to escape from all that pain.”
“Are you talking about your portal?” Trixan asked.
“Yes. I suddenly manifested it out of nowhere. It wasn’t because I was turned into a demon or whatever.” He glared at Pheleraz.
“It’s full of demon energy.” Pheleraz glared right back.
“Of course it is. I was in Bezvar, genius. That place is full of demon energy.”
Pheleraz paused. “So your portal helped you escape then?”
“It can travel across dimensions.” Hellstorm shrugged. “When I escaped, I found out that two years had passed. Then I started the long and painful process of healing. Luckily, I had someone every step of the way.” Hellstorm smiled fondly.
“Who?” asked Pheleraz.
“The love of my life,” he said. “Narvari’s mother. We were very happy together.” He smiled sadly. “But when Narvari was still a baby, circumstances drove us apart. I returned to my hometown with my baby girl, and I raised her without her mother. That was eighteen years ago. So yes, that’s my story.”
“You still haven’t told us why you were rescuing royal demons,” said Pheleraz.
Hellstorm chuckled. “I wasn’t rescuing them. I was capturing them for information about Izenros. But those bastards didn’t know anything. So I killed them all.” Pheleraz exchanged glances with Trixan. Hellstorm added, “I’ve been meaning to get revenge on Izenros for years but I didn’t want to go back to Bezvar… especially not when I was still raising my daughter.” He paused. “But everything changed six years ago. I heard rumors that Izenros was on Earth.”
“You left to look for him,” said Trixan. Even still, Narvari was just a child when her father left. Trixan didn’t know how to feel about the man who had watched her grow up and yet had failed to be there for his biological daughter. Could she blame him though, after everything he had suffered?
Hellstorm sighed. “But I never found him and I was too obsessed to give up. I went after every demon I could for information. Greater demons. Lowbloods. Whatever. I would have gone after the Magna Trez if I knew where they were. Everyone was too afraid to tell me anything.”
“So you went to Ziegler,” Pheleraz said. “And you ordered him to summon Izenros.”
“That’s right. I wanted to look Izenros in the eye as I killed him.”
“You wanted to look Izenros in the eye as you killed him?” Pheleraz raised a brow.
“He needs to pay for what he did,” said Hellstorm.
Just as Trixan thought, this was about revenge. She had been afraid that Hellstorm was somehow colluding with demons. This was a relief. The Order had been so quick to label Hellstorm the villain when he was the one who had suffered the greatest injustice. How could they possibly blame him for going after the person who destroyed his life? If he was going after Izenros to kill him, wasn’t he doing the Order a favor? While the purebloods had succeeded in killing hundreds of Tehsaa-level vanquishers over thousands of years, the Order had not even killed one pureblood demon. If Hellstorm explained his reason for capturing the lowbloods and attempting to summon Izenros, the Order would be more lenient with him. Trixan would do everything she could to get him pardoned even. It shouldn’t be too hard.
“Is there something else you would like to know?” Hellstorm asked.
“That will be all for now.” Pheleraz turned to Trixan. “Unless you have more questions.”
“I do not.”
“Alright.” Pheleraz got up, took his phone, and then started typing. Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he said, “I need to talk to you in private, Yvis.”