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Royal Life Of A Broken Demoness.
Chapter 11 - The path less taken.

Chapter 11 - The path less taken.

Where have I gone wrong?

Let's see, it all started when I was born.

Okay, maybe that's to far back.

Was it when those bandits have attacked us?

No, it was sooner.

Everything went wrong after the strange dream.

What was it again.

There was a girl. A beautiful one. But I don't think that's the important part.

Who was she? Black hair, blue eyes, can't say I've seen her before.

What was she saying?

I can't remember. That's the problem with dreams. They aren't meant to be remembered.

However, I know, it all turned bad starting from that point.

"So, will you forgive me, even if I did this?" The bandit asked.

Fuck you, I will kill you.

I clench my fist and swallow the sour taste, coating my throat. With a forced smile, I face him.

"Of course," I answered clearly.

I will kill you, I will kill you, I will kill you.

The bandit started to laugh, "oh, that's good, I wouldn't know what to do if you hated me."

I won't flee. There's no reason to. I will slit your throat, watch, as blood clogs up your airways, and listen to your muffled cries, echoing in my ears.

"Men, have you heard this, she has forgiven us," he shouted and turned towards his companions.

Tell me, what color is your blood. What do you want to be written on you gravestone?

My eyes met Estella's head. She looked just like a tragic heroine.

If it wasn't for the lack of her body, anyone would mistake her to be asleep. Her eyes are closed, and even in her final moments, Estella left with a faint smile.

A calm face, facing death. What her last thoughts were, I will never hear.

I would cry, if I could, but unfortunately, I can't.

Emotions do hamper the process of thinking logically.

I've suppressed them again. Now that Estella's gone, there was no need to feel anything at all. I have returned to my normal state.

Or rather, I have returned to my previous state.

Being cold is what I am best at after all.

I think I need to make something clear. I am normal, I am average, but I am also unique. I am not special, but there's still only one me.

I have found peace with that idea a long time ago. It is a problem, that has already found a solution, which is why I forgot it.

I had already been shaped.

This is not my first life. I do not have to go over it again. The real question is, how do I make those pests in front of me realize that?

How do I make them understand who I am?

How do I make them understand what dilemma, what excistencial crisis, they had thrown me into?

It is simple, I kill them all.

"What should we do know," the magician asked.

"Let's wait until dawn."

I wonder what their connections with each other are.

Obviously, they are a pack, but what are their relations?

Why is the leader, the leader for example.

Simply put, the magician strikes me as the strongest in the group, as the current leader presumably doesn't use magic. He uses a long sword after all.

I take a quickly glance at him, only to see that he is already making his way towards the exit.

Then is their leadership based on a hierarchy?

The current one is the oldest. If I had to take a guess, he would be around 40. Meanwhile, the other three look like they are approaching their early twenties.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Now, age might be a factor, but there are more important elements that come into making this decision.

Experience for example. It wouldn't rule out age either.

What kind of experience, though?

It can't be the experience of being a bandit, because I think we have established that those definitely aren't bandits.

Not the experience of being the strongest either.

Is it the experience of having lived through many battles?

I have no idea. There are too many variables to make any assumptions, but for now I can tell, that they aren't a randomly assembled group.

Well, not totally random.

Another thing that interested me is that guy who walked in with the leader.

From the group, four people are still alive - The magician, his partner who he was protecting the hostages with, the leader and the one who was with him.

He was the only one who cared about the death of their two comrades.

Above all, those who died were actually quite weak, in comparison to the others. A group with such a disparity in strength is weird.

Unless, they were actually two groups of three who merged into one group of six.

Meaning, that I can probably ignore him.

There's also the leader, who seems to be a more standalone guy. His actions oftentimes are not based on what is logical, but on what he feels. He doesn't consider the consequence of his actions and how it might affect his companions.

Looks like the group isn't as harmonious as they appear to be.

The crux of the problem lies in the magician and his friend. From their short interactions, I could tell that they know each other well.

Then if I can separate them, killing them might turn out easier than I initially thought it would be.

The magician was a slim youth with black, unkempt hair, reaching down to his eyes. His dark brown eyes absorbed the light, and the circles around them indicated his lack of sleep. His clothes were old, slightly frayed and too large.

His friend, on the other hand, had long blond hair tied into a ponytail. His skin was white and he had deep blue eyes. On his hip hangs a sword.

After the leader left, silence began to reign over us.

Only after some time has passed, and the cave fell into total darkness, did the magician ask, "should we get rid of those corpses."

"That is a good idea, or they might start rotting."

"Let's throw them out of the cave at least."

Promptly, the duo stood up, and made their way towards Estella and the guards.

As the black haired mage tried to pick up Estella's body, I stopped him, and said, "wait, let me help you."

Suspicious by what I said, the youth stared at me.

"No need," he answered, and carried her body.

As if I'm just going to let you touch her.

"Relax, it's not like I could run away, with you here," I tried arguing.

"Fine, suit yourself."

And so I did. Slowly, I picked her head up. The moment I lifted her off the ground, blood started flowing down her neck. It swept over my hands, like a red flood, it covered my clothes too. The warmth emitting from her cheeks and her blood, gently embraced my cold body.

Estellas soft lips began to lose it's color, and her complexion turned white. Her hair was in disarray, and hid her face. For the last time, I took a look at her, to remind myself of her appearance.

Her brown hair, that smelled like almond oil and her amber eyes, resembling little jewels are all ingrained into my mind.

"Are you done," the magician said, with a clear voice, breaking me out of my illusion and pulling me back into reality.

I nodded and start walking behind him.

"I won't let you leave just yet," I softly whispered into Estella's ear and my voice got washed away by the silence of the night.

Tonight I was not the only one grieving. In the darkness was another person, clasping his hands, and praying for his dead comrades.

Only after I reached the exit, could I see anything.

I was in the cave for less than an hour, but it felt like an eternity. How much has happened, and how much I missed the fresh smell of nature.

I had no time to enjoy it though, as it was overwhelmed by the fresh smell of blood.

I still held on to Estella's head and watched as the duo piled the dead bodies together. I wasn't actually really helpful. While stroking Estella, I After spotting a nearby tree stump, I took a seat and let my feet dangle in the air.

"Should we burn them?"

"No, let's do it when we leave."

"Hey you, bring the head over here."

The blonde guy suddenly pointed at me.

Huh me? Why?

I asked him, "what do you need the head for?"

"Too turn it into ashes, of course. What do you need the head for," he responded, placing the emphasis on 'you'.

I gave him a sarcastic smile and answered, "sentimental reasons."

Suddenly the black haired magician started talking, "Don't worry, it won't be long before you two will be together," and threw the last corpse on the ground.

Quite direct, I see, but that is just the way I like it.

"You shouldn't scare a kid like that," the blonde guy said and laughed.

"Hiding it doesn't change the truth."

"Doesn't mean you have to slap her with it."

It wasn't long before they began to argue with each other.

It wasn't a serious one, though. It was more of a quarrel between friends.

I think this a good opportunity to act my plans out.

Gradually, I stood up from the tree stump and made my way towards them. The moonlight shone upon me, reflecting back into the surroundings, making my skin paler than it actually was.

A pleasant breeze continued blowing my garments into the air, causing it to float in the wind.

My hair waved at the nature around me and with a sharp gaze, I took my steps.

The sound of crushed leaves no sticks keep reappearing in a rhythmic manner, whenever I moved my small feet.

The whole time, Estella's head dangled in my arms, and I felt like a ghost out of a painting. That feeling was quite mystical, but the scene was tranquil.

I face the black haired magician. As he was taller than me, I had to really lift my head.

With my raspy, but feminine voice, I tell him, "don't take me for weaker than I am."

Surprised by what I said, he stared down at me.

"What could you possibly achieve?"

That's the question, hmm? I'll show you. What it means to underestimate me.

I lift my arms that was holding Estella's head, and before long, Estella's face reached the same height as his.

Small quantities of blood was still dripping down her mouth.

Her rugged hair, was all over the place.

Her skin was colorless.

I opened her eyes so that she would stare at him.

"Tonight you'll die," I declared.

I pull my hands back, and Estella, who was obstructing the view between us, disappeared, revealing his complicated expression and my most alluring smile.