"Why the hell are you alive!" Ephram's voice boomed, shaking the ground beneath his feet.
"Look who it is! My old pal, E! Where's May and that little mouse creature? I've missed you all so much!" Pestarrem said, his voice growing more and more monstrous as he spoke, smiling from ear hole to ear hole.
Ephram took a few steps forward to confront the rat demon, his gaze never once breaking away from the monster. He didn't know why or how this creature had survived the sewers after the tortured demons had been let loose on him and his cronies, but it was apparent he had at least been hurt. He thought to himself that if he was still wounded, perhaps defeating the rat demon would prove to be simple.
"I'd stop right there if I were you." Pestarrem exclaimed, pointing down to what now lay between his feet.
The rat demon had managed to walk over to the unconscious body of Restavel, lifting his head slightly to bring the tip of his bone protrusion above her head. With one swift motion, he could impale her at any time. Ephram knew that if he didn't do what the monster said, she would be gravely injured. As long as the rat demon didn't know her true name, however, he had no way of killing her for good. But even a demon can feel unimaginable pain.
Halting in his tracks, he stood firmly in place. There was absolutely nothing he could do at the moment, his best bet was to somehow convince the demon to move away from her body, then find a moment to strike.
"I want to know. Why do this?" He asked, stalling for time before the creature decided he'd had enough fun and impaled the maid.
"Why? Oh my! I would be overjoyed to tell you!" Pestarrem began, laughing throughout every word he uttered.
"When you so courageously left me and my brothers for dead, I'll have you know those disgusting creatures almost did get me! They mutilated my brothers beyond the point of no return, and nearly did the same to me! I was lucky to escape, mostly intact." He said, holding up his left arm to show off the stump where his hand used to be.
"You tried to kill me! For no reason other than satisfying the demons above ground! You're the one who started this, and I'll be the one to finish it!" Ephram yelled as his agitation grew.
"SHUT UP! You... you took everything from me!" Pestarrem shouted, his white eyes harboring a deep-rooted hatred for Ephram. He felt as if the only time he was truly alive was when facing his sworn enemy. Whatever was left of the rat demon's soul began to burn with the fiery passion of rage, consuming his every thought as he stared daggers at the demon before him.
He closed his eyes slowly in an effort to calm himself, beginning to lift his head up in a threatening motion as if he were truly about to impale Restavel. No amount of begging would save the maid from what he had in mind; nothing could stop him now.
"Wait! I... I'll tell you my true name if you let her go! Don't hurt her!" Ephram suddenly shouted, reaching out desperately for the rat demon to cease his plan.
As Pestarrem slowly reopened his eyes, looking curiously at the demon he knew as E, he began to wonder what he could possibly be thinking. A demon's true name is its only real weakness, the only way to truly kill a demon. Even if they were beaten to a bloody pulp or chopped up into millions of pieces, a named demon will not truly die unless you speak their true name. Names hold power, but for most demons, they hold weakness. Pestarrem slowly began smiling once again, stepping away from the maid and resting his bone protrusion back upon the ground.
"If you insist... but I have something to tell you first..." He began, looking around as if to spot any unwanted listeners, "my true name is Pestarrem. I find it only sensible to allow you to know my own weakness. I'm everything but unfair, y'see." He said, smiling devilishly at Ephram as he took a few steps forward.
As soon as he learned Ephram's true name, his plan was to immediately attack him with the bone protrusion sprouting from the top of his head, impaling him like a bull. He was quicker than ever before now that Aberlain had given him a name, one that only the Rootlord himself could use against the rat demon. He knew there was no danger in telling Ephram his name, but Ephram didn't know that. It was a foolproof plan worthy of astounding praise from his master.
"Well then... Pestarrem. My name is Ephram. Let's get this over with, shall we? I have more pressing matters to attend to than you." He said, hoping his jab at Pestarrem's pride had worked.
Without skipping a beat, the rat demon suddenly lunged headfirst towards his enemy, running on all fours like the animal he was. His speed was astounding, only closing the gap between the two of them in mere seconds. As he grew closer to Ephram, his milky white eyes bore holes through his target, as if he were burning through his own soul to destroy this obstacle in his path towards unimaginable power.
Like the clashing of steel, the bone protrusion made contact with Ephram. As Pestarrem's smile faded from his face, he looked up to where he thought he had penetrated his enemy. A small hole had been made in the black shirt Ephram wore, but underneath, his skin lay barren of blood.
"What!?" Pestarrem screeched, bashing his head against Ephram once more.
"I apologize... would you like to try again?" Ephram asked, chuckling under his breath as he found the entire situation quite funny.
"How!?" Pestarrem yelled, snarling at the strange demon.
"Well... I can't say for certain, but I believe I've been blessed." Ephram said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders, "by an angel, no less. Thank you for helping me confirm my suspicions."
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Pestarrem stood hunched over, wide eyed and slack jawed. There was no way he was telling the truth, it had to be some kind of elaborate lie. There was absolutely no way an angel could've blessed a demon, it was simply unheard of.
"Bullshit! Liar! You're a liar! An angels blessing doesn't work on a demon!" He shouted, but as Ephram took a few steps forward, he began to feel the same fear he had felt from Aberlain now coursing through his dirtied veins.
Standing still from both shock and horror, he watched as Ephram got uncomfortably close to his own face, staring deep within his white eyes. He felt Ephram's hand grip tightly upon his bony shoulder, leaning in close to whisper something in his ear.
"Who said I was a demon?"
Backing up slowly from him, Pestarrem began to wonder if it was even possible to kill whatever this creature was. He suddenly remembered what had happened in the sewers; it had always seemed odd to him how the rat in the bucket couldn't penetrate Ephrams skin. But an angel blessing a demon was impossible, and this thing standing before him was quite clearly a demon.
"You... you're lying! If you aren't a demon, then what!?" Pestarrem asked, his voice beginning to quiver slightly. He found it disgusting how much fear he now exhibited. It was mortifying to cower so pathetically before someone clearly weaker than himself.
As he took yet another step backwards, he noticed a strange glow surrounding Ephram. It could've been the fear messing with his eyes, but he could've sworn he saw a brilliant white light radiating from his very body. The power he gave off was greater than anything he'd seen before, an overwhelmingly pure rage. Perfected fury.
"Good question, and I've given it some thought..." Ephram said as he forced Pestarrem to back up even further now, getting dangerously close to the entrance of the Abyss, "... I believe the term best suited to me, is a devil."
The brilliant white light surrounding Ephram now engulfed the very soul of Pestarrem, turning whatever willpower he had left into ash. As if his mind had fried completely, his already milky white eyes faded to a dull grayish color. Ephram took one last step forward, noticing the change in demeanor from the rat demon. Knowing he had won, he began dragging the creature behind him as he held firmly onto the bone protrusion. As he took one last look at the creature who started it all, he felt a pang of guilt for what came next.
"It was... Aberlain." The rat demon spoke, his mouth hardly moving as he accepted his fate.
"Begone... Pestarrem." Ephram said coldly as he killed off whatever remorse he had for the monster, remembering its torturous nature. Throwing the monster down into the dark depths below, he watched as the rat demon silently faded away into the sea of nothingness. The Abyss had swallowed him whole, reducing him to the waste of flesh and bone he truly was.
As he was about to turn away from the Abyss and check on Restavel, he suddenly felt his body stuck in place. For some reason he couldn't move, as if the Abyss itself had reached out and grabbed a hold of him. Staring down into the darkest of depths, he began to see all sorts of vivid hallucinations within the void.
The warm smiling face of his wife called out to him, begging for him to jump into her open arms. Standing behind her was both May and Silo, happily reaching out for him. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and every fiber of his being urged him to get closer. The three people he cared most about were calling for him, pleading with him to join them in the absence of everything, the warm and comforting Abyss.
Everything in his life had led to this moment, the moment he could finally be reunited with Silvia. He felt a wave of peace and tranquility wash over him like the refreshing water of a nice warm shower after a long day of work. Taking a few small steps forward, he began raising his arms in preparation for the fall. It was finally time to go home, back to where he belonged, in the arms of his loving wife and the company of his dearest friends. The Abyss called out to him, telling him that what he'd done so far was enough. It was alright, he could finally give up now.
"S... stop... Ephram..." A voice said from below him as he was about to take his last step forward, only being stopped by a sudden hand weakly grasping his ankle.
Looking down at who could possibly disturb him from his destiny, he was dumbfounded to see Restavel the maid laying upon the ground beneath his feet. She had been fighting to stay conscious as she dragged herself over to him with whatever strength she had left, stopping him from succumbing to the darkness below before she passed out entirely.
"Wait, what am I doing... Restavel! Are you alright!?" He said quickly, snapping out of the trance brought on by the Abyss.
Dropping to his knees next to the maid, he tried desperately to wake her. She had seemingly fallen back unconscious, only able to stay awake long enough to save him from himself. Picking her up within his arms, he slowly stood as he began making his way back towards the forest treeline. He knew that eventually Restavel would be alright with the proper care, deciding it best to bring her to one of the rooms within the palace.
As he hurried through the forest, constantly checking on the unconscious maid in his arms, he noticed something odd once reaching the indoors. Throughout the corridors of Palace Estella, each maid similar to Restavel had slumped over upon the cold hard floor. It was as if each and every one of them had simultaneously passed out along with the maid he now carried.
Trying to put this fact out of mind for now, he rushed towards the central hall, bursting through the oak double doors as he finally reached his destination. The same room he had been shown before was just on the other side of the small wooden door.
As Ephram creaked open the door and walked inside, the familiar smell of emptiness filled the room. Now that he thought about it, this room in particular wasn't the only place giving off the urge to escape. The stench of fear coursed through the hallways of Palace Estella, infecting it like poison flowing through a bloodstream. The only explanation he could think of was that Aberlain had something to do with it, seeing as how even Pestarrem had mentioned the Rootlords name after being tossed into the Abyss. Whatever he was planning, Ephram swore to himself that he would stop it. It had to be him at the center of it all, it just had to be. There was no other explanation for how Pestarrem had come to know both May and his own name, the only way that could've happened was if someone had told him.
Gently laying Restavel upon the bed, he sat on the edge whilst deep in thought. There was only one explanation for the torment he and the people he loved were subjected to. Evil. The evil of not just one creature, but the collective consciousness of reality itself. To be forsaken by the world is to be completely and utterly alone, forgotten by all who walk within Yggdrasil. If the very people he wished to save turned against him, it simply proved him right. Evil is the most infectious of diseases, carried within the hearts of every living creature that has been and will be.
No one is immune to this sickness, but he knew in his heart that there was a cure. To destroy the madness within the hearts of many, he must succumb to a greater madness himself. The only sure way to create a better world for Silvia and the others he held dear was to rid the world of wrongdoings. He wanted to create a peaceful and prosperous land for all to enjoy, never once allowing the thought of betrayal to enter their minds. He would harbor it all upon his back, like Atlas. The weight evil actions carried would be thrust upon one individual alone, Ephram.
The first step in achieving this goal had been completed when he had finally regained his memories. Along with those memories, he gained something else entirely. The will to continue. For better or worse, he will never stop looking forward. The past is in the past, and to change the world, one must head for the future.