The Demon Lord's Point of View

Chapter 2

The quietest place in the library was on the second floor, in the corner of the old research wing that hadn't been restocked yet. Warm light shone through the multi-paneled window, each pane of glass tinted slightly different for a beautiful array of golden light. It was a remnant from before the wild magic storm that had changed this library and it was my favorite place to hide away from the world.

Nobody came up here, so it was just me and the blissful silence.

I settled down in a comfortable chair that I'd hauled up here, opening the next book on my list. I'd made it my mission to read every book in the library so I could experience all the good and bad in characters. Maybe one day, I'd know which one I was supposed to be.

Because the truth was, I had no idea.

My author had called me a demon lord, but did that mean I was just supposed to rule over demons or that I was supposed to crush everyone who wasn't a demon? Was I evil? Was I misunderstood?

If I believed the hero's tale, I was absolutely a villain. He'd been fighting against my demonic forces for seven books, saying that I was conquering territory after territory and building an army. The hero claimed I kidnapped people for dark rituals and attacked cities for no reason. But, if I was really doing all of that, I'm sure I had a reason.

Being a villain wasn't the worst thing I could be, but not knowing why I was a villain, that was unacceptable.

My gaze drifted to my original book, the one I'd stepped out of so many months ago. I'd tucked it away behind a bookshelf in this very corner, not only keeping it safe, but hiding it away so I didn't need to look at it anymore.

I'd spent far too long scouring its pages, looking for some kind of answer, but the series wasn't actually about me. It was the hero's story, not mine, and I was just a footnote. The big bad on the horizon that the hero would fight one day.

It was the epitome of frustration.

As I tried to focus on the book in front of me instead, a tiny purple dragon landed on my horns. He tilted his head, staring at me as his wings flapped to keep his balance. They'd been doing this a lot lately, landing on every available body part like I was some kind of flying lizard perch.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to do that," I muttered, swatting the dragon away. "I don't need your pity or your company."

The dragon roared at me, but it came out more adorable than he'd probably intended due to his size. The glare on his face was clear though: he was not happy with me.

"Oh fine," I said with a sigh. "Just don't sit on my horns. Give me that much dignity at least."

He chirped, swooping to land on the arm of my chair instead. I opened the book in my lap again, flipping its pages as I read yet another fantasy novel. The dragon snuggled closer and I felt myself stroking his scales absently. They really were kind creatures, even though books tended to paint them in a terrible light.

Excited shouts from downstairs ruined the mood, making it impossible to keep reading amidst all the squeals of joy. Didn't they know this was a library? What could possibly be causing all this ruckus?

Against my better judgement, I moved to the railing at the edge of the second floor, glancing down below to see what the commotion was all about. A group of patrons filled the lobby, talking animatedly with Lisa and Nyssa. I squinted, recognizing a few of them.

They were the fans who'd been making the library such an insufferable place to be lately. They hounded me, day after day, asking questions and wanting to know more about my books. They somehow expected me to know how it ends just because I was a character from the series. If only it were that easy, but I only knew as much as the author had written.

And it wasn't like I could ask him questions. He sadly passed away before I'd even stepped out of my story.

I sighed, about to move back to my nice cozy chair in the corner, when Lisa called out.

"Demon lord, they've got good news to share with you," she shouted up to me. "Come down here and see for yourself."

The urge to pretend like I hadn't heard her was strong, but she'd probably march up here and drag me down if I didn't respond. I'd rather the fans didn't realize this was my secret hiding spot either, so I walked downstairs filled with trepidation.

"What's going on?" I asked gruffly, trying to keep my interest low.

One of the fans had a flyer gripped in her hands so tight it was crinkling.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Um, there's a contest going on, for your um, your book series." She handed me the crumpled piece of paper, blushing as if she was embarrassed by it. "Sorry."

I shrugged dismissively. "It will read just as well, crinkled or not."

Lisa smirked behind her teacup as the girl beamed at me. Oh no, had I somehow just made them even more interested? I never knew what would set them off in squeals of joy or anguish, so I shut my mouth and read the flyer. Humans were far too much work.

A publishing company was announcing a contest to write the last book in my series. The winner would get published with the family of the author's blessing as the official last book.

I swallowed hard, trying to process what that meant.

Somebody, a total stranger, was going to be deciding my fate, telling me who I should be and why. Not my author, just some random fan. A chill sank into my bones. What would happen to me once the last book was written? Would I change based on how they portrayed me? Or stay who I was, a demon lord out of place in this library?

"They're going to finish your story." Lisa gripped my arm encouragingly, smiling like this was something amazing. "You'll finally get to know more about yourself."

Nyssa and Roan had ambled over at some point, giving me that same sickeningly sweet smile that Lisa was. The fans started chattering next to me, filling my head with nonsense about all the ways the books could end. Everyone obviously wanted this, but the idea of the contest settled into my stomach like lead.

Didn't they realize that having an ending might be even worse than never knowing? What if the author they chose painted me as somebody absolutely deplorable? What if they made me do something wretched that I would never recover from?

And if I truly was as villainous as all these people assumed, what if they didn't even give me a good reason for it? I might just be evil for evil's sake.

Panic raced through me as people crowded in so close I could barely breathe. I needed to get out of here, away from all of this.

"How do you think the hero will win?" the fan from earlier asked obliviously. "I mean, they have to win right?"

My chest tightened as the memories of previous books I'd read invaded my mind. All the ways the heroes had slain the villains, all the ways they'd crushed them under their boots. That was not how my story was supposed to end. It couldn't be.

I stared the fans down, shadows swirling around me. "If you really think the hero can defeat me, then what are you even doing here? I'm the demon lord! I won't be defeated so easily."

My hands were shaking by that point, so I let my shadows plunge the room into darkness, snapping and coiling into every lit area. If I let some random writer finish my story, what these fans said would come true. I'd be killed off or thrown in prison, my powers sealed and my life diminished. There was no other end for a demon lord, not one that I'd seen.

Somebody gripped my arm. "Calm down."

Roan. His strong grip snapped me back to the moment, letting me hear the quiet panic of the patrons. They were trying to be cool about it, but I could hear the unease etched in their voices. I'd heard it before, when we were scaring people away from the library, but I was supposed to be moving past that.

I released my shadows, letting them dissipate as if they were never there.

"And that's the kind of darkness you'll see in the final book," Lisa said. "I wish you all the best if you're entering the contest."

The group of patrons nodded, laughing nervously as they eyed me with a tiny bit of fear. The library tugged at our bond, letting me know it was there for me if I needed it. Which made me feel even worse. I was supposed to be helping Misty thrive, not scaring away its patrons.

Roan kept his grip on me for a moment longer, then nodded as if he was satisfied that I was under control. He released me, just in time for Lisa to link her arm through mine.

"You're coming with me," she said softly, a smile plastered on her face. "What were you thinking?"

"That I'm not some sideshow to be put on display," I muttered. "I know the library needs patrons, but these fans are getting too forward. I can't deal with them every day, not when a contest means there's going to be even more of them prying into my life."

A life I didn't even remember.

She sighed. "I know this has been an adjustment, but we'll make it work somehow."

An adjustment, huh? The library used to be a quiet, wonderful place. It was our home and now it was filled to the brim with people wanting to talk to us, poking and prodding as if we were a carnival act.

I rubbed my hand over my face, leaning against a bookshelf. "I just...I miss when there was nobody here but us. Is that so wrong?"

"No," she said, "but scaring patrons is. Let me talk to Nyssa and see what we can come up with. You shouldn't have to feel this uncomfortable. I really thought you'd be happy..."

She glanced away, busying herself with reorganizing some books on a shelf. She had been the one finding me all the fantasy books I'd been reading, helping me see what kind of stories were out there. She wanted me to figure out who I was just as much as I did. She'd understand if I told her my fears, but somehow, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"I am happy," I lied. "Thank you for letting me know about the contest."

"You're welcome," she said, frowning at me like she could sense I wasn't telling her the truth. "Look, if you're that worried about it, you should just find your own writer and work with them on the story."

I blinked at her, frozen in place at that absurd idea. "You want me to...find my own writer?"

"Of course, take your story into your own two hands. Make it what you want it to be. You deserve whatever kind of ending you see fit and you've got the rare opportunity to make it happen." She smiled at me, hugging a book tight to her chest. "We are characters from stories, but that doesn't mean we have to be governed by them. You can be whoever you want to be."

That didn't feel right. Characters were written by somebody else. I couldn't just go rogue and become something my author hadn't intended. We might have stepped out of our books, but we were still governed by them.

Finding my own writer wasn't a bad idea though. Somebody who would do my story justice while still keeping in line with what the author had wanted. If I really was the big bad villain the hero made me out to be, then I wanted to go out with such a bang that everyone would remember it. I wanted an epic ending, one full of meaning and emotion that explained why I did all the things they claimed.

I wanted a real story. And maybe, just maybe, I'd even get a name.

It felt a little crazy, but a tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest. This contest might be exactly what I needed after all.