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Demonic Arts
Chapter 11: Awakening

Chapter 11: Awakening

I woke to the pain of my new existence, in a dank womb of darkness and decay.

Worms and maggots fed upon my festering skin, the scent of tainted blood seeping through the wounds upon which they feasted.

Rising my hand, I blast the lid of my supposed everlasting bed and begin to walk this world once again. Not sure of what exactly happened; I take a sweeping gaze of my home, my cold, glowing eyes penetrating the darkness of my tomb.

So… I have been resurrected. Again I find myself at the mercy of fate, urging me on to take my revenge. Yes… my revenge. I remember now, I recall how I have been tricked, cut off from myself with sweetened words of honey, lulling me into their poisonous grasp. He knew I would win, he knew of the power I would eventually be able to wield in our final battle, taking my life to end his.

Abraxas foresaw the events that would spell his doom and managed to play me on my doubts over why he doomed me in the first place. Not entirely willing to believe the one I served for millennia had cast me aside as if I had been another worn out toy, I left an opening he took advantage of by following a hidden connection he carved into my soul when he first created me.

While I delved these catacombs without spending time to forge myself into a hardened warrior, I perished with a fool hearted mistake, to the end my human self was not willing to embrace my past and merge with my demonic self. I was even unable to forcibly merge as the main portion of my soul was distracted with Abraxas mental interference.

Heh! Woe to the conquered ones. I was not deserving of this road of revenge with reservations such as not wanting to toss aside my past in the first place. There was no need for such petty things, nor was there a need to make new memories and forge relationships like the naïve part of me believed.

How come that only now, after dying twice , I realise my folly?

There was no need for such thoughts. For any thought, safe than one: I would kill!

I would kill Abraxas, I would kill those who have slain me, those who betrayed me and those who would dare to stand in my way! Saving the one I share a blood connection with? Why bother?

To state the brutal truth, even before my death, my human side couldn’t even remember what she looked like. Now, I couldn’t even remember her name…

Foolishness. I have been an utter fool.

Succumbing to my dark urges, I harden my face, taking my hatred and forming it into sharp, brutal bloodlust. Maggots, grave worms and other parasitic creatures fled my body, falling from me like these useless memories and half-forgotten sentiments. Why did it matter to know my history? Why did it matter to know my enemy? Who would care if I couldn’t remember the very reason of my vengeance, as long as it was carried out, fulfilling my boundless lust for revenge? What I needed was power, not useless trivia!

A dark laugh escaped my raspy voice, which has likely not talked in years. My still body, devoid of sounds, stalked through the dark towards the shadows of the room in front of me, dimly lit by torches.

Strange to find such crude methods of illumination, when I was previously in such a sophisticated catacomb, which had even used soul fire. Maybe my new benefactor had discovered my body down there and moved it?

Searching for any signs of life, scanning the rooms in the process, with my demon sense, I found these ruins to have stabilized. Except around me, a normal amount of life-force and elemental energy could now be found within these ruins and even though the density around me was lower, now that my minds have merged, that was normal as well.

I was now constantly devouring the elemental energies around me, taking any life that couldn’t withstand my constant minor pull. What previously took a sort of half-trance I could now do with only a minor thought. After merging I was now at the last step of our demonic arts, the point of endless divergence. An endless search for the ultimate technique, a step no one has mastered before.

It looked like no one was in my vicinity, just rats and the remains of those desperate and insane enough to have braved these tombs, finding naught but a quick death.

I start making my way through the room, a column of pillars to my right and left with a torch on each of the pillars. Walking the full length of it, I smash the wall in front of me, revealing a hidden staircase I discovered via my demon sense.

As I continue to ascend, I could finally detect life. Two humans stood at the archway awaiting me at the end of the stairs, one left and one right of it.

Guards, most likely…

Silent, I reach the top and take a glance at them, ready to drain them of their precious life, drink their blood and absorb their soul. With a sudden irresistible hunger coming over me, I quickly close the distance.

The guard never had any chance, as I lift him up, gripping his neck with one hand and biting deep into his main artery, sweet blood wetting my throat, trickling down and vitalizing my dead flesh.

Drained and soulless, the husk of a man falls to the ground; his armour clanking as it falls off, rolling to the edge of the rock protrusion we stood on.

I had not anticipated how thirsty I was, how much I longed for the sweet embrace of life, however fleeting it may be, neither had I anticipated the reaction of the other guard, as he fell to his knees, bowing deeply to me, not daring to look up.

So he was one of the ones to move my body for it to resurrect into its current form.

Looking upon this weak vermin, I saw a twisted, barbed face. Eyes all over his face, his mouth twisted sideways onto his forehead, his nose on his side and ears closer to his chin.

Weird bulges appeared from his back and a puddle of drool was forming on the floor, where he bowed his head.

Ironic, really, to have been given support by the lackeys of the ancients, when they once would have given anything to end my existence. We now stood on the same side, though. Abraxas once stole one of their artefacts, an ancient blade of chaos, able to change its form at will and they still wanted it back. Something I would be now more than willing to give them a hand in.

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Turning around I take a light, causal stroll further to the edge of the platform. In front of me, I could see a huge hallowed out area deep underground. I looked down upon a black fortress, a huge gap between my current elevated position and the keep itself. Taking a glance down, I saw magma flowing at the bottom. The ceiling was a sea of gemstones, illuminating the tremendously wide area in a variety of lights.

“You! Speak! What is this place?”

A horrified face suddenly glanced at my feet, plated with ceremonial armour of fallen heralds of doom and chaos, something akin to kings to the followers of chaos. I am sure the one responsible for giving me another chance at my revenge had something to do with putting me into one of those as well.

“Mi- milord! This is the sacred fortress of Czterzheral, God of death and life, eternal father of our fellowship, giving us blessings to truly see this world in all its wonders. We have built it in his honour thousands of years ago! The one personally blessed by the touch of our god still reigns there, he instructed us to guard your tomb, revered chosen one.”

Ah yes… the sick and twisted god of erratic creation, filling the planes with his humour. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hand in my unexpected survival, well, maybe not true survival, judging from my still heart and my distinct lack of the need to breathe.

“Who is this blessed one, capable of transforming me into this horrid creature of the dark?”

The creatures eyes suddenly open so wide, they nearly fall from their sockets.

“Creature of the dark!? Milord! You are a holy, blessed champion, chosen by the gods! No one transformed you, you were merely given the your true body, the powerful body you deserved!! You were the only one capable of absorbing the shard of materialised chaos, a truly wondrous moment in all of history! With all due- Aaah- AAAARGH”

Tired of this raving fool, spouting on without being asked to, I manipulate the very space around him, lifting him up from afar and flinging him down the huge crack in the earth with a flick of my hand. It took a whole ten seconds before he was enveloped in flames and eaten by the magma.

It didn’t matter what happened to me as long as I had enough power for my endeavour, but I would have to pay a visit to this 'blessed champion of the ancients'.

He would serve my purpose, one way or another.

For once they would dance on my palm, as I had once danced in Abraxas’.

Taking a step off the edge, I start to slowly approach the fortress, walking on air, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

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Hey folks! Thank you for reading! Please leave me feedback and your thoughts.

A bit of insight of how bad a writer I am, for anyone interested? (Might contain minor spoilers for those who haven’t paid attention :P )

Spoiler :

There originally were two chapters between this one and the last, but after careful consideration I scrapped and tossed them. I think this continues the fast pace of the story. I will cover the events in the next few chapters in a (hopefully) more interesting format.

A good chunk of the original chapter 11 was actually summed up by our new, darker Owen in a few sentences. (on how he was tricked by Abraxas and his realisation thereof) Another reason I thought it was a rather tedious read and could be handled way better.

The title of the original chapter was Chapter 11: True Demonic Might

A tiny little hint on what happened?  ^^

Chapter 12 was called “Chaos Shard”.

You can guess what that was about, right? Yeah… as mentioned in this chapter, he absorbed that bad boy and eventually restored his soul, merging his split personalities, also mentioned in this chapter.  

While talking about scrapped chapters in favour of a fast pace, there actually was a whole chapter about Owen growing up with him interacting with his family, even naming his sister and parents. I decided to scrap it because I just couldn’t manage to make it flow naturally with the rest of the story, making it seem forced. I think I’m just no good with casual day to day talk?

Same with the journey to the dark forest/the forest itself. I first planned to have him fight a few more battles and showing him adapting to this environment, but it just brought the story to a screeching halt accomplishing a whole lot of nothing in the process.

If anyone thinks back on the time Owen decided to visit a town and interact with people after a long time of isolation? Well… there was actually a lot more planned with that, but I couldn’t manage to have it make sense at the time. He had neither money, nor time, nor incentive for that little excursion. :D I was pretty much just a little slice of what normal experts were like, anyway…

See why I need your feedback? I’m terrible at this!

After finishing the story, I might be convinced to make a “Chapter of lost Chapters” for anyone wanting to have a good laugh. There is a good reason why I didn’t include them, after all! (and no, that doesn’t mean we are close to the end of this little story yet. :P)