Blood stained the floor as a clear shlick sound could be heard echoing from in between the two figures which the dark room housed. One of them slowly hunched forward, revealing a glistening blade covered with blood.
“You... have bested me.” The man’s deep voice filled the room, a sense of power and authority could be felt from the weak words which escaped from his mouth.
Falling to the side, his body made a loud clang as it and the sword he was holding hit the floor. Covered from head to toe with a deep purple metal armour, the middle of his chest piece revealed the hilt of the sword which pierced his body.
“Looks like... I’m coming with you, old man.” This time, a younger voice rang out, but without the vigour you’d expect from a youth.
Collapsing backward, the presumably younger man struggled to lift his fatigued body. Compared to the ominous armour his opposite had, his was more ashen, with red accentuating parts of it.
Heavy breathes came from the two, but slowly became more ragged, a struggle to keep breathing evident in both.
“I nearly ran out of juice before you, you know,” the younger one said, “oh Lord Demon King”. Sarcasm dripped from his strained voice.
“Ha, if I had any energy left, I would slap that stupid grin of your face.” Trying to clench his hand, the Demon King felt a numb take over his aged body. “The Seer of Denari... she told me that today would be the day I died you know.” Gasping for air, the king settled for trying to supress the pain from his punctured lungs. “I was so mad that I-“
“Killed her, I know.” His grin fading from his face, the ash knight’s facial features settled to a solemn peace. “I heard the news after I came back to Central from training in some infested caves. She was a nice lady, like an old granny that’d give you cookies.”
The Demon King looked at the cause of his demise. Brown hair covered in soot and dirt with streaks of blood scattered on his face. Too young to be placed with burdens of a whole race, the dying king pitied the boy who was summoned to fight another world’s war.
“What’s your name?”
Looking up, the demon saw light filtering from the ceiling as it slowly crumbled from the loss of magic which held the castle together.
Rather dumbly, the boy responded with, “huh?”
“What’s your name?”
Confirming the question, a small smile crept into the boy’s features. “Damien, Damien Pierce.”
“Damien, congratulations on saving this world from my clutches. I, Demon King Naraxxus, salute your actions. Well, if I could salute.” Silence settled on the crumbling room as Naraxxus waited for Damien’s response.
“...why aren’t you angry?” Rage built up within Damien but his lack of stamina prevented him from doing anyyhing about it. “You’re supposed to be Demon King Naraxxus, Lord of the Damned and the war-mongering demons! Yet... why are you just so calm and carefree about your death! It doesn’t make any sense, you should hate me right-“
Blood sputtered from Damien’s mouth as his internal wounds raged from his outburst.
Another silence swept the room as more pieces of the walls and ceiling broke away from each other. Minutes passed until Naraxxus finally spoke.
“I’m tired, Damien. I’m tired of this game of cat and mouse. Do you know how long this war has been going on? 500 years. The demons versus the rest of the world. I have been the third king since the war started and I can see how much damage it has caused. So many people have been broken due to the losses on both sides. At this point, I don’t even mind that I lost. No one can say it but I can see it in the eyes of every single sane person whose still alive. We all just want it to end. No more fighting, no more killing. When I killed the Seer of Denari, I still wanted to win the war. But, over the past few years, I’ve seen how desperate people have become. Look at you! You’re the embodiment of a whole race’s hopes and fears. They basically kidnapped a kid from another world to fight this pathetic excuse of a war! There was never anything to gain from this. All these deaths were for nothing.”
“Then why didn’t you just surrender-“
“Because I had no choice!” Jaraxxus shout shook the room.
“It was either to continue fighting to the bitter end or see my people be enslaved and treated like trash. All races are greedy and terrible. For every good person in the world, a thousand bad ones would come to break them. If I surrendered, I would have to live through knowing I was the one who led my people to a situation which could take centuries to recover from. Fighting till the bitter end was just my coward’s way out. I’d rather die then see what’s next. I’ve been a horrible person, and I’d rather not live through seeing consequences of my actions.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Damien couldn’t respond.
----------------------------------------
Damien’s POV
The castle continued collapse as bigger chunks of the room’s ceiling crashed on the ground around us. It was only a matter of time before one of them hit and killed me. My wounds festered from the dark magic which Jaraxxus used while the his slowly burned from the touch of my blade lodged in his chest cavity. There was no escaping death this time.
I closed my eyes, using my last few moments to wade in my few cherished memories. It’s been 3 years since I last saw my family. Being summoned when I was 12, I’ve been fighting ever since. I missed my mother’s food, no matter how many times she failed making the simplest of things. I missed my father’s passionate rants about cold cases he’s always wanted to report on. I missed my older sister’s scolding of the two for the things she had to put up with.
Tear drops glided across my face, passing by the smile which unknowingly formed. I’m going to die, yet... I’m okay with it. 3 years I’ve fought for the people of this world and while the first was filled with mishaps and mistakes, I tried my best the whole time. There were times when I just wanted to give up to be honest, times when I felt I couldn’t go on anymore. No one wanted to believe that a 12 year old boy could save the world but they tried to, and that’s all Damien needed. Now look at me! 3 years later and I killed the Demon King!
If I had any regrets, it would only be dying before I could come back to my friends. Dying before we could celebrate finally finishing this damned quest. Well, I guess this was to be expected. The mission to kill the Demon King wasn’t one you’d be guaranteed to come out alive. Heck, it’s the job to kill one of the most powerful beings in the world, what did he think. Fredrick, Layla, Terrence, Bolvar, and Vivian. I’ll miss them when I die. Is there even an afterlife? Will they miss me? So many I’d like to say good bye to before I hit the bucket. I love you, Vivian!
“Dammit, why did this have to end like this...” Murmuring to myself, I heard a response from Jaraxxus as the floor started to shake with more intensity.
“Heh, such is life Hero. Fate has its ways to screw things up.” He responded as so just before the floor around us started to glow with blue light. “What the-“
Damien looked towards Jaraxxus just as his body dispersed like ash. Before he could react, he felt himself pulled towards the ground as if gravity strengthened by ten-fold. He could hear his bones creak and the pain from his wounds get stronger as the blue light around him intensified. Strange glyphs made of pure light floated upwards around him, flopping along the air like fish out of water. Though he strained to keep his eyes open under the stress of the gravity and the blinding light, he did notice everything around warping. It looked like magic, the old stones of the building swirling and interlacing with each other. Then again, this blue light, flying glyphs, and reality-warping effects could only be magic. But- what kind of magic?
Questions darted in my head until a my mind started throb. And it hurt. God, it felt like someone had drilled into my skull and poured lava into the hole. My body continued to struggle for some sort of control. How strong is this gravity magic?! I’m supposed to be able to tackle dragon head on and win a landslide- what the hell?
Prying my eyes open one more time, I saw the light completely smother the room until finally...
I couldn’t feel anything.
----------------------------------------
“Breaking news; a boy, aged 12, that had went missing 3 years ago has been found severely injured on a road near the Treford Shopping Centre at 6:30 am. Witnesses driving to work said that they saw a flash of light where the boy was found before he appeared.
After being admitted at a nearby hospital, police officers who arrived to help identify the boy. Investigations as to ascertain who the boy, found to be around the age of 15, was proven to be unsuccessful until searches on missing persons case files occurred. After finding a file of a child with a similar appearance, they cross-referenced the blood of the parents with the boy to find a match. After 3 years, Damien Pierce – now aged 15 – has been found.”
----------------------------------------
Damien’s POV
Groaning, I felt my consciousness thin and thicken as a continuous beeping slowly got louder. My head ached and ached and I could barely raise a finger. Delirious as I was, I tried to open my eyes. What I saw was not the Demon King’s throne room, but a hospital room.
Hospital room...
Quickly sitting up I was forced to lay back down when a sharp pain ripped through my spine. My injuries haven’t really healed, have they? The surprise of seeing a hospital room let alone a modern one really helped me shake of the fatigue. Looking around, I realised that I was in an isolated room. There were no other extra beds, no curtains to section the room off, just my bed, dresser to my right, and some medical equipment. The whole room had this odd smell, probably from the various medicines and chemicals used by doctors and nurses.
Pushing my body so that I could sit up, I took a look the white plastic dresser by bed to find various cards that all had the same message of ‘Get Well Soon’ on them.
“I didn’t know that so many people were glad that I’m back,” I whispered to myself, a small smile on my face appearing with a few heartfelt tears. “I’m glad to back.”
“Well I hope you are.” The door to the room opened to reveal a familiar face. A woman, who seemed to be around 20, walked in. She took gentle strides toward just before stopping a few steps from my bed.
“N-Natalie?” I looked at my older sister like a ghost had just phased into the room. She still had the messy brown hair from three years ago, still wearing glasses because she could barely see a few metres away from, but she was taller, and seemed more mature. I didn’t even notice I was crying until a tear fell on my arm. ‘Why am I crying so much?’
“Welcome back Damien, you stupid little brother.” She said, before hugging with the tightest grip known to man.
“Ouch!”
Quickly letting go, she apologised with multiple sorrys before calming down.
“Welcome back.”