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83: My Enemy, My Savior

“We can eat it?” The voice was childish but hoarse, like a little boy getting over a sore throat. “It is food?”

“No, little Fenrir. This one is not food.” This other voice was deep and dark, a silky smooth bass perfectly tuned for temptation and wicked laughter. “This is a new friend.”

Vermillion’s eyes opened, and she immediately sensed that something about this experience was off. Her senses were active, but there was a sharpness to everything. It was the opposite of the surreal state of dreaming. She was lying flat on her back, looking up at the vibrant pink blossoms of the ancient cherry trees of her homeland. This was impossible, for that type of tree went extinct in a sea of dragonfire more than three thousand years ago. One of the drifting petals landed on her nose and tickled it.

She suddenly remembered the voices and sat up frantically, reaching for weapons that were not there. She found the source of the voices, and her confusion deepened. A skinny wolf cub... and a black kitten with tiny bat wings and curly horns?

“Where...?” Vermillion began to ask as she stood and trailed off. She should have towered over the tiny beasts, but instead her eye level wasn’t much higher than theirs. She looked down, and recognized her childhood body. “Is this some kind of dream?”

“All existence is some kind of dream. You are aware. Revel in that and let it be enough. Cherish this moment of ignorant tranquility, and let it fortify you for what is to come.” The demonic kitten’s voice and mannerisms were an unsettling contrast against its adorable appearance. “Soon an eclipse of bone and scale shall blot out the sun. Soon fire shall rain from the sky as though the sun itself were being poured from the flagon of a cruel god. Soon a child will make an angry wish, and soon a very old and wicked thing shall finally acknowledge it.”

“This is the day of the dragon swarm...?” Vermillion’s heart lurched into her throat.

“This is the day you are enslaved by the very person whom caused the destruction of your homeland.” The kitten purred.

“No, my Master saved me!” Vermillion rejected the words and held her head with both hands.

“You were deceived.” Baelphegor insisted. “The walls of magic that hid your true memories have no power here. Observe the truth that you have always known in your heart.”

A distant roar echoed through the valley, sending a violent shudder through Vermillion’s small body. The dragons had come.

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“He’s pretty good at this.” I grudgingly praised my demonic familiar as I viewed the dream scene on a monitor. I was in a room on The Numberless Floor where our latest guest was unconscious on a bed.

“Indeed, Mr. Gray!” Tabula’s reply was unusually proud and she beamed at me, stroking the sleeping Kitten’s fur as she did. “He is a true master of unraveling the tangled mess that is organic consciousness. The wolf spirit has become quite tame as well.”

“I’ll have to reward him later.” I noted. “So what really went down in Vermillion’s homeland?” I asked as I turned away from the monitor, not really wanting to view the oncoming carnage and despair.

“Ms. Raj has researched the event through the use of her unique power, Mimir’s Library. Kutris attacked the valley of the oni after they refused to join his army. He used a swarm of fire drakes led by a red dragon. Vermillion was saved by the combined magic of both of her parents, and was the sole survivor. Kutris found her and kept her as a pet after manipulating her mind to view him as her savior.”

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“So the ‘angry wish’...” I looked back at the monitor after the worst of it was over...

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Vermillion held her mother’s blackened hand gently, and her swollen eyes widened in horror as the elegant fingers that had lovingly stroked her hair just that morning crumbled into chunks of lifeless carbon. The protection spell around her protected her from the heat of the flames but the smoke and ash still choked her. Vermillion laid down on her side, facing her mother’s cracking face. She closed her eyes, and welcomed oblivion.

A low chuckle from within the smoke made her eyes open. Someone was laughing. Someone was LAUGHING!?

“Damn fools.” The bitter chuckling ceased and was replaced by a voice that she knew all too well. “You shall serve me after all, as an example of what happens to those that defy me.”

Vermillion’s tiny hands found the half melted hilt of her father’s sword. Blind rage gave her tiny body strength, and she screamed as she charged through the haze of heat and smoke. The blade sparked as it impacted a sphere of protection around Kutris, the man that had destroyed her world. He looked down with mild surprise, and a smile twisted his lips.

Vermillion collapsed to her knees and began to bawl.

“Please, if anyone can hear me. Please hurt this man! Burn him up forever and ever. Feed his ashes to beasts and bring him back to do it again.” Vermillion didn’t voice her prayer out loud, but she lifted her gaze to stare into the man’s eyes with cold fury.

“What a lovely surprise, the princess survives to become a perfect souvenir. Your parents were strong enough to deny my Brand, but... Soul Brand.”

The landscape of the memory turned white and blank as Vermillion’s free will was stolen forcibly.

Even though the memory was gone, Vermillion remained. The raw grief struck hard, amplified by the knowledge that she had spent so many centuries worshiping such a vile man. She heard a distant voice, and it was warm and kind. She looked around and found the strange kitten and wolf had also disappeared.

“Wake up, kid. It’s gonna be okay.” She felt a hand hold hers and a gentle pat on her head.

Her real eyes opened slowly, and a dark gray shadow came into focus.

“What a beautiful person.” Her first thoughts upon viewing the man were shocking to her.

“Sorry to put you through that, but it was necessary.” The suited man’s voice was so very soothing to her. “My name’s Gray. Technically we’re enemies but I get the feeling that might change.”

“You should kill me.” Vermillion locked her eyes onto his and said sincerely. “His Brand is a taint that can never be purged. As long as I bear it, I am no better than his filthy hand. Thank you for reminding me who I am, I shall cherish that final kindness in the Hells.”

“The Brand can’t influence you while you’re here.” The man called Gray said simply.

Vermillion closed her eyes, and realized it was true. There was no incessant pull on her thoughts. For the first time in so very long, Vermillion’s thoughts were all her own. She suddenly remembered how she had come to be here.

“That vampire lord...” She suppressed a shudder and continued. “Just who is he?”

“He is a subordinate of mine, and the strongest undead I ever defeated. I summoned him, and now he’s taking care of that annoying swamp for me.”

Vermillion’s eyes went wide and a bolt of terror struck her.

“You... SUMMONED him!?” She rubbed her forehead. “That huge fortress, and miles of lush grassland appeared in mere days. He commands a lich that rivals Kutris himself in magical power, and a death knight that wields a true Holy Avenger. Just what have you unleashed upon this world?”

“Huh? Huge Fortress?” Gray seemed to be confused. “They’re building stuff down there? I just gave him that swamp as busy work to keep him out of my hair until I decide what to do with him...”

Vermillion’s soaring perception of the man called Gray fell along with her jaw in that moment.

“As far as a long term solution for your Soul Brand, I’ve destroyed one of his before by replacing it with one of my own.” Gray put a finger to his chin and looked up in thought briefly. “I won’t offer you that just yet. For now, I’ll have to ask you to stick around here. There’s plenty to keep you occupied, and the food’s pretty damn good.”

“I’m not going to sit in a cell?” Vermillion scoffed. “Am I that weak?”

“Ha!” The man’s short laugh was of genuine mirth rather than derision. “Your pride as a fighter weighs more than your desire to avoid suffering. I would honor that if my pride as a host weren’t on the line. The honest answer to your question, is yes.”

The man’s form was suddenly encased in inky darkness. The humanoid shadow grew and expanded, and the darkness faded. Vermillion’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open once again as the legendary fallen dominion revealed itself, an angel of darkness just a few steps from the top of the fallen pantheon. The being allowed its full strength to express itself in a wave of gravity and density that forced Vermillion to her hands and knees. Then it was gone, and when her gaze lifted the man had resumed his original form. A pale hand with black nails offered to help her to her feet.

Vermillion said no more on the subject of strength, or her accommodations as she accepted the hand. The image of the fallen dominion lingered in her mind for a very long time after that.