I stare at my hands, still shaking. My breath comes fast, the weight of what I've done settling in like a stone in my chest. "I... I killed him?" How could I have? None of this is making any sense.

Domnik glances at me, a half-smile playing at his lips, though there's something intense in his eyes. "Well, that answers that question, I guess."

"What question?" Why is he being so calm about this?

He turns back to the dark, dissolving remnants of Galagon, his expression unreadable. "You're not mortal, Red. No mortal, no matter how skilled or how powerful, not even one holding a blade like that, could kill a god. Only gods can do that... kill each other."

His words hang in the air. Only a god? No I'm just Red, this is really not making any sense. What the fuck is it you're saying, why can't I grasp what he's saying? "So you're saying... I'm a god?"

Domnik nods slowly. "That's the only explanation. Look there is no time to waste. We have to keep moving, once the others catch wind of Galagon's death things will get harder for us."

Holy shit this guy doesn't even care what's going on in my head, does he? "Give me a second here Domnik!"

"I'll give it to you once we get out of here!" He shouts.

I stagger back in shock. Bastard. But now I see him trembling, he's uneasy, there's something he's with holding maybe? Something that's coming next.

He looks around apologetically. "Look I'm sorry, but seriously, you have no idea how bad this is going to get. We have to move."

You didn't have to shout about it. I suppose you did just kill your own, father figure. "To where?"

"The Shores, you have the flask still right?"

I think? I nod anyway, fumbling to retrieve the flask from my belt. Thank Chronos it's here! I was genuinely worried I had lost it when we teleported here. My hands still tremble, and the flask feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as I pull it out. "The Shores... what does that even mean, are we going straight to Muthos?"

He takes a step closer, lowering his voice, his expression a mix of urgency and something almost... protective. "Yes, the quicker we move, the less time the others will have to prepare for us."

My mind spins as I follow his lead, stumbling after him as we move deeper through the halls of the fortress. What about my sister? "But... what about Alyse? Isn't that why we came here?"

"Alyse is still the priority Red, but keeping you alive is part of getting her back." He glances back at me, his face grim. "You have a power the Daem will kill for—or worse, try to control. We can't let them have it, or you. The only way we fix this is if we take down Muthos first, he's after me and once he learns you killed Galagon, he'll be after you too."

The reality hits hard, and I clutch the flask tighter, my pulse racing. Why'd you have to go and let me be the one to kill him? "Fine, then. Lead the way."

Domnik's eyes harden with resolve. "Stick close to me, and no matter what you see, don't hesitate. The Shores of Malice are unpredictable, but if we keep our heads, we'll make it through."

We better.

"Come on, I'll take you to a spot where we can start the ritual." Domnik starts to run towards the door, heading outside.

The castle begins to shake. The ground splitting and cracking. Lava rising from its openings. I look up to Domnik as he stumbles and trips to the ground.

"Fuck Domnik!"

"I'm okay! I was afraid of this. Come on we have to get out of here!" He shouts has he waves his hand, inviting me to run towards him.

"What's happening?" I run towards him now as the central pillars that hold the roof at bay, begin to crack and shatter apart.

"We are falling off the Shores, Galagon was anchoring this place here. We are going to fall into the abyss, we have to get back to Naurus before it takes us with it."

I'm at his side now and I help pull him up from the ground. Now standing, he grabs my hand and starts to concentrate with his eyes closed.

The lava inches closer to our feet. The ground trembling, the ceiling caving down around us.

"Domnik?!" A question of worry leaves my lips.

"I'm trying Red. It's not working, why the fuck isn't it working? I can't teleport. It's like I've been cut off from the void. Fuck it, we gotta get to the portal room. Follow me!"

He sprints towards the castle entrance and then dashes right. I chase after him close behind as I watch him dash back left through another doorway.

"Through here, keep up!" He shouts back as he turns.

The floor around me begins to melt with each step as the heat of the lava begins to become overbearing. I dash through the door way to the left and the ceiling crumbles to the ground behind me, sealing the passage shut.

He starts to spin a giant wheel on the wall. Its gears turning as a hum begins to ring out from its edges with each turn.

"What is this?" I ask.

"It's an old gateway, the gods used to use them to get around different planes. Teleportation magic isn't that widespread." He grunts as he spins the wheels.

I turn back to see the lava spreading towards us and a crack in the ground begins to form, jutting out in our direction.

"Well how long does it take to turn on? We don't have much time!"

"It's uh..." a loud bang rings out from it as I turn back to see the gateway filled with a million different colors, all swirling around. "It's on! Come on!"

He grabs my hand and pulls me through with him.

The moment my foot crosses the threshold, the ground vanishes beneath me. My vision blurs as the entire room collapses in an instant.

Colors rush past, swirling like a storm. The sensation is terrifying as I feel myself ripped from one reality and flung into the next. I feel the pull of gravity disappear as I'm lifted, weightless, tumbling through a tunnel of light. My body contorting, stretched thin by the immense force, threatening to rip me in half.

For in that moment, time ceases to exist. I am everywhere and nowhere, suspended in the swirl of colors. Then, with a sudden tug, I feel the ground solidify beneath me, and I land on my ass and skid across the grass. Lava gashes out of the air behind me and sprays over the ground I had just laid on before sliding over.

"You piece of shit! I swear that thing malfunctions every damn time, it's supposed to close immediately, not in a few fucking seconds!" Domnik shouts. "That's why I was glad to finally be able to teleport on my own back and forth."

"Well something tells me you won't be going back there ever again." I say with a laugh.

His face is red with anger but I see a grind form that he tries to hold back. He starts to laugh hysterically, he doubles over and collapses to the ground rolling about in the grass and cackling aloud.

I sit there staring at him in confusion, what could he find so hilarious, the joke wasn't even that good.

"We almost fucking died, ah ha." He says in between gasps of air as he rolls about.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

I chuckle too now at the sight. "By Amerei, there is no way you are laughing that hard at this!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do? We literally almost burnt to death and then plunged into the chasm between worlds! And you, you killed a fucking god!"

A full smile takes over me. "Talk about an eventful few days. Oh man, no one back home is going to believe this."

"They'll think you're crazy!" He gasps and catches his breath and then sits upright. "Shit, will you look at that. Right back here to the treehouse. I figured we would have been spat out much further from here. I was doing my best to get the location in but the damn gears were stuck on the portal. Maybe it isn't as busted as I thought it was."

"I know you want to keep moving but, after that. I really do need a second Domnik. I gotta take a nap or something. That is just too much to process right now, my mind is so... fried."

His smile fades and he nods. "Before you do, how's that scratch, feeling anything?"

"No it's fine, doesn't even hurt anymore. I feel perfectly normal, I think, maybe not. I don't know I just... I need to lay down."

"Yeah, no go on up. I'll be out here, give you some space." He picks the grass blades as he sits there. Letting them blow out of his hand in the wind as the sun sets in the distance.

"Thanks Domnik, I mean it."

"Yeah, no problem."

———Domnik———

I watch Red as he heads up the hanging ladder, vanishing into the treehouse. The sky above is turning gold, colors bleeding together as the sun dips low. I pull up a few more blades of grass and blow them into the breeze, watching them scatter, feeling an odd weight lift. My home, my father's realm—it's gone. And somehow, that doesn't bring me despair. If anything, it's... freeing. Not that I know how I'm supposed to feel about any of this.

How is anyone supposed to feel when the realm of your dead, evil father—already taken by your equally evil uncle—falls apart, leaving you holding pieces you never wanted in the first place after your... friend kills your uncle?

Not to mention realizing that your family has been hunting and killing said friend's family for sixteen years. Completely destroying their kingdom in the process.

I lean back, sinking into the grass, letting it all drift away for a moment. I lie there, listening to the wind as it flows past. I stare at Zenot, hanging in the sky like an eye above me, our second moon inching toward it slowly.

Galagon used to tell me stories as a child—the way Naurus and Zenot share one of the two moons. Every year, one moon crosses from Naurus to Zenot, orbiting it in turn before returning home to Naurus the next to reunite with its brother. It was the closest I came to understanding something beautiful in my family's tales. But thoughts of Zenot drift to thoughts of my mother.

She was up there, close but unreachable. She wouldn't come down, not even to look me in the eye. How could she?

"Domnik?" A voice breaks the quiet, echoing from the shadows. "Are you Domnik Wrathrune?"

I jolt up to my feet, eyes narrowing. In the darkness, a figure steps forward—a man in a white cloak, his face obscured by a pale mask, his hair glinting like the moon.

"Depends," I say, keeping my tone flat. "Who's asking?"

"Where's your mother?" he asks, stepping closer, his voice sharp.

"Wish I knew. Haven't seen her in years." But how the hell does he know my name?

"Bullshit!" His fists clench, knuckles white.

"You don't believe me?"

"You're a fuckin Daem, I wouldn't believe anything that comes out of your mouth." He grunts.

I raise an eyebrow. "By that logic, even if I did know where she was you wouldn't believe me then right? Who the fuck are you?"

"I don't have time for this." His hand snaps to the hilt at his side, and an icy blade glints in the dim light as he draws it.

The man brings it forward in a fighting stance. I take a step back, tensing, already feeling heat building along my fingers. It pulses down my arm, sparking to life in my palm.

"You really don't want to do this," I say, voice low. "But if you insist..."

He doesn't reply, just lunges forward, the blade cutting toward me with precision. I sidestep, the frost radiating from his sword chilling the air as it slices past. I bring my own hand up, flames curling around my fingertips, and press them into my sword, the blade instantly turning molten. The glow intensifies as I bring it to bear, blocking his next strike with a fiery clash.

He's fast. Every swing comes with a cold fury, each thrust pushing me back a step as I parry and counter. I feel the sting of his icy magic every time we clash, each hit stealing some of the warmth from my skin, biting like frostbite. But I push harder, letting the fire grow until my blade blazes like a beacon in the dim light. I meet his next swing, the crackle of ice and fire roaring between us.

"Where'd they teach you to fight like that?" I growl, spinning away and striking low. "It's impressive—for someone with a death wish."

He grits his teeth, eyes dark behind his mask. "I didn't come here for a Daem's flattery."

"Oh, but you came for a Daem's fight?" I grin and feint to the left, forcing him to sidestep into my real strike. My blade sears close to his side, and he barely evades it, his cloak singeing from the heat. "News flash," I say, "I don't go easy, not even for someone like you."

"Good," he snarls, slashing upward, catching the side of my arm. A biting chill races through the wound, and I feel my arm grow numb. I stumble back, shaking it out, and glare. "Because neither do I."

With a growl, I thrust my sword into the ground, sending a crack of molten rock racing toward him. He jumps back, but I'm already moving, pressing the attack. He blocks, the chill of his blade clashing against the blistering heat of mine, and for a moment, we're locked in a furious standstill, our blades sparking in a shower of steam.

"You can't win this," he says, voice barely above a whisper, his masked face just inches from mine.

"You're about to find out exactly how wrong you are." I twist, sweeping my leg to knock him off balance, and in the split second his stance falters, I drive my blade toward his shoulder. He parries, the blade just missing, and counters with a sharp jab, catching my side.

The pain jolts me, but I grit my teeth, ignoring it. I surge forward, forcing him back, every swing harder and faster. He stumbles, and in that instant, I bring the molten blade down, pressing him to the edge.

"You came looking for a Daem, right?" I taunt, pressing down on his blade with the full weight of my own, the metal hissing and glowing under the pressure. "Well, now you've got one."

He grimaces, his sword slipping slightly under mine. "This isn't over," he says, voice seething.

"No," I reply, meeting his glare. "It's just begun."

In one final, forceful motion, I shove him back, sending him sprawling onto the ground. His sword clatters out of reach. I level my blade at him, daring him to reach for it, waiting for his next move.

The man stares up at me, defiant even from the ground. He shifts, fingers twitching as though he's about to reach for his blade again.

"Go ahead," I say, voice calm but edged with warning. "Try me."

In an instant, he lunges-not for his fallen blade, but straight at me. He grabs my wrist, and for a second, I'm caught off guard by his strength. Something in him burns fiercely, as though he's been training his whole life for this moment. I struggle to wrench my arm free, but his grip is like iron. He twists, yanking me down as he throws his weight forward, slamming me to the ground.

I barely have time to roll away before he's on me again, one hand pressing down on my chest, pinning me with surprising force. I grunt, heat surging through me, and I bring my elbow up, catching him in the side. He falters, his grip loosening just enough for me to slip free.

I scramble to my feet, breathing hard, and face him again. This time, he's retrieved his sword, its icy edge gleaming dangerously in the moonlight. We circle each other, tension crackling in the air.

"You're tougher than you look," he says, breathing hard.

"Funny. I was about to say the same about you." I shift my stance, assessing him. This guy's relentless. Mortals don't usually last this long against me.

Whoever he is, he's had serious training —and he's hell-bent on using every ounce of it against me.

He lunges again, and this time I'm ready. I sidestep, bringing my blade down to catch his, the fire scorching along his weapon's edge. He winces, but his grip doesn't falter, and he presses forward, forcing me back a step. I block, then counter, trying to break his rhythm, but he meets every strike with swift precision.

The clang of our swords fills the air, sparks flying as ice and fire clash with every blow. But I can feel my energy waning, the heat inside me burning too fiercely, consuming too much too quickly. He's noticed, too, and his strikes grow bolder, his eyes fierce and determined behind that mask.

"Getting tired?" he taunts, parrying one of my swings and slipping his blade toward my ribs. I twist, narrowly avoiding the blow, but the effort leaves me unsteady.

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to focus. I can't lose. Not like this.

With a roar, I push forward, driving him back toward a crumbling tree. He stumbles, and in that split second, I bring my blade down hard. He blocks, but the force of the blow sends him reeling. He slams against the tree, breath ragged, and I advance, pressing my advantage.

"Yield," I growl, holding my blade to his throat.

But he doesn't. Instead, he raises his sword, his eyes locking onto mine with a dark, resolute intensity. And then, with a strength I didn't think he still had, he shoves my blade aside and kicks me in the chest, sending me sprawling to the ground.

I gasp, the wind knocked out of me, and before I can recover, he's on top of me, his icy blade pressing against my neck.

His weight pins me down, his breath heavy and hot against my face.

"I told you," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't come here to lose."

I try to struggle, but his grip is like steel, and my energy is almost entirely spent.

I can feel the cold bite of his blade against my skin, the chill seeping into my bones, numbing me.

I open my mouth as my horns fully extend. A flame bellows out from my lungs as he leaps back and throws up his hands.

A wall of ice raises from the ground and blocks the flame, unable to melt through. I jolt to my feet and leap over the wall, bringing my blade down on top of him.

He meets it with mine and then it flies from his grasp, tumbling across the grass. I hold the tip of my blade to his throat as he lays there gasping.

"That was you up there on Zenot, wasn't it? You froze an entire planet, killed all those people."

"It was your mother." He mutters.

"Last time I checked, my mother couldn't freeze things. You come back again... and I'll tell everyone it was you, Hail...Magnus."

I ease off, letting him go, my blade hovering for a moment before I sheath it, the fire in his eyes dimming but still simmering beneath the surface.

"Why didn't you kill me?" He asks, struggling to his feet, still catching his breath.

"Because I'm not my mother." I say.

"Don't you expect such kindness from me when we meet again, Daem."

I smirk back at him. "Get out of here before I change my mind Hail."

He turns and walks into the dark. "Be seeing you..."