A battlefield of hellfire charred corpses stand below us. The bodies stretch far beyond the horizon. More than enough to convince any sane person to turn back.

It is only the first wave.

Above us sits a ragged tear in the sky, revealing the night and stars too early. A lasting hallmark of when the heavens were ripped open by the murder of a god.

They will not be the last.

My master must have been feeling generous to let me see through eyes that have not been my own for a very long time. Feet that were no longer mine carry our body over to the balcony to give me a better view of his triumph. With my mouth, Ardam, the first Demon Lord of Alarstardes, God king of Lithia, and destroyer of the Umbral Gates, sighed and said, “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Taken aback, I responded with genuine devotion. “No my lord. The mistake was theirs.”

And to my utter astonishment, my words were spoken aloud. Never in all my years of loyal service had he given me such control. In our time together, we would only have conversations in my mind when he wanted a human perspective or there was some cultural custom of my homeland that perplexed him. A handful of times, he allowed me to witness some of his victories. Mostly, I slept while he controlled my body.

He turned us away from the balcony and went inside his royal chambers. I felt my lips twitch into a wistful smile. “Your faith in me is always welcome,” he said. “But you cannot see as I see and I would not trouble you with such a burden.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you remember how our partnership began?” He asked, switching topics.

I nodded. It was over twenty years ago when I was just a young man heading home after a night of drinking at the local tavern. A group of my village’s elders met me in the street and offered to reward me if I’d assist them with a ritual. In my drunken state, I agreed without question and they led me deep into the forest where a dark congregation waited for us. There were twenty of them in total. All wearing hooded black robes to hide their identities. One of them spoke to the elders who’d brought me. I recognized the voice immediately as that of Tam, the village butcher. It occurred to me then that despite the secretive robes, I probably knew every person here.

I was about to ask them about the next step when a pair of strong hands seized me and began dragging me towards a stone altar. I cried out in alarm, begging for help. Everyone ignored me. I tried to wrestle my way free, but the hooded man’s grip was like iron. Two more members were called to assist as they lifted me onto the altar and placed shackles on wrists and ankles.

The demonic cultists surrounded me and started chanting. I didn’t understand a word of what they said and still don’t to this day. I remember feeling terrified and certain that I was about to die. Once the chanting was complete, my body shook while my mind slipped into a trance. As my master gained control over my body, I came to understand what had happened. My neighbors, friends, and perhaps even family had performed a ritual to summon a dark entity from another world. This entity stole my body in order to have an anchor to this world. I remember when he took full control. When I felt myself recede into the dark corners of my own mind.

There was a moment of stunned silence after the ritual was completed. Nobody dared make a sound until my master sat up. He ripped the manacles off as if they were straw. The cultists then rushed forward, each demanding some favor or wish be granted. They shouted over each other and argued with one another about who should be rewarded first for the summoning. That was when I learned his name. Ardam. Despite losing control over my body, I could still feel every physical sensation. More than that, I could feel his emotions. He felt… bored.

The summoner's requests held nothing of note to Ardam. Money, somebody’s wife, become the ruler of some tiny castle or to be the best blacksmith in the world. It went on and on like that.

He listened patiently to every request until they had finished. I felt a twinge of excitement bloom in my chest. The feeling puzzled me as I watched Ardam approach the nearest cultist. He placed his hands on the man’s shoulders for a moment before pulling his hood back. It was Tam, the one who’d spoken earlier. I finally felt something other than fear that night. Rage. I trusted him, trusted all of them, and they had sacrificed me for their own gain.

The grizzled old butcher’s eyes were wide and filled with wonder at the greater being he’d helped summon. Ardam grabbed his head and twisted until there was a sickening crack.

Everyone froze.

Perhaps Tam had offended him in some way? They pondered. Ardam let go and all of them watched as Tam’s lifeless body flopped to the ground. Even then, they did not move. Though it would have been of little consequence if they did. He approached a second cultist and casually ripped out their throat.

The truth of what they’d summoned dawned on them.

The cultists screamed and scattered in every direction, desperate to survive. But sprinting through the woods at night in heavy robes made a quick escape impossible. My master chased them all down. One by one.

After he’d killed all of them, he spoke for the first time. “And what is it you wish of me?”

There was nobody else left. He could only be talking to me. I was terrified. My body had been stolen by a monster who’d just killed everyone that had brought it here. Was I to be next? Would it eat my soul if answered him or ignored him? I felt a stab of annoyance flare in my body. He demanded an answer now.

I thought about why I’d agreed to come here with the elders and about what I’d just witnessed. How the rush of wind on my cheeks had felt as we’d sprinted through the forest faster than any man. How I’d felt the strength of ten men in these hands when he snapped Tam’s neck like a twig. The exhilaration when we’d caught the blacksmith’s apprentice. A young man twice my size who used to bully me for being scrawny, reduced to sobbing at my feet before meeting his end. Pastor Morton’s screams should have horrified me. But all I could think about was him sneering and telling me I wasn’t good enough to court his daughter before Ardam slammed his head into a tree.

I should have been disgusted by the massacre but I wasn’t. The experience had been thrilling. I’d tasted power, and I craved more of it. Not that I desired mass murder. But there were other things this power could give me. People would have to respect me and I’d finally have control over my life. No more tilling the fields till sundown with an aching body. I could become a knight for Lord Falloway or make my own living out in the world. Nobody would get to beat me anymore. Not my parents, not bullies like the blacksmith’s apprentice. Nobody would mock me like Pastor Morton with this kind of power.

“I want to be powerful like you.” My voice was barely a whisper. I braced myself for the inevitable pain and torment.

“Granted.”

After that, I lost consciousness and it was several years later before we spoke again.

“I did not forget our original bargain,” he said, bringing me back to the present.

I didn’t understand what he meant. Then a sharp pain grabbed my heart. Without warning, I collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. It was agony. I felt like I was being ripped apart.

Then it ended.

Slowly, the pain diminished and I was able to get my breathing under control. A hand appeared to help me up. Without thinking, I took it and looked up in shock. It was a mirror image of myself from twenty years ago. My master helped me to my feet. I looked down, touching myself.

“Is this real?” I asked.

He laughed then, deep and loud. I smiled, relieved but also confused. You’d think I’d have been resentful for having my body taken for so long. I glanced into a nearby mirror, saddened that my youthful face had now aged. My body felt stiffer than I’d remembered too, but it was a small price to pay. He’d shared much with me in our time together. I’d seen so many things. Horrors and wonders alike. That I only held respect and gratitude for him.

“As I said, I did not forget what I promised you. Other priorities had delayed me. Those are finished now.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I did not like his tone. He sounded regretful. It was unlike him.

“I’ve shifted my spirit into this newly created avatar body, which has to look like you for obvious reasons.”

I nodded. An entire kingdom’s worth of subjects recognized that face and while I knew he could change it, it would have been inconvenient for him.

“Now you’re free, but that was not the agreement,” he continued, picking up a nearby scroll. “This is for your eyes alone. Study it carefully once you’ve cleared my borders. A mistake in this endeavor could cost you your life.”

“Borders?”

This was all happening so fast. To leave now on the eve of the next battle?

My master pushed the scroll into my hands. Reluctantly, I read a few lines. The information on it was a densely written set of directions. It was a map that started by telling me to go west and cross the border. I rolled it up and stood ready for my first mission.

“Provisions and a fast horse have been prepared for you down at the stable. Take this badge as well. It will ensure no one will stop you inside the kingdom. Once you’ve crossed the border, throw it away.”

The badge was a large medallion of black metal inlaid with gold. A blue gem sat in the center. This was a seal of Ardam’s power. Only his most trusted advisors carried them. Any who did were to be treated like the God king himself. That he wanted me to toss it aside once outside the kingdom did not bode well.

“I don’t understand. Even our neighbors would tread lightly to someone carrying the badge.”

Ardam glanced outside and frowned. “We are out of time. This is my last order. Do it and our bargain will be fulfilled and you will find the power you seek. Do not and you will fall. The choice is now yours to make, but choose swiftly.”

He turned away from me and went back out onto the balcony. Twenty years of service and purpose were now gone. I suddenly felt small and lost in these grand royal chambers. His last words kept turning over in my mind. The power I seek? Recounting our meeting had brought the emotions of that time flooding back. The strength. The speed. I’d made peace with merely being a servant long ago. Now that old hunger for power had returned.

I respectfully left my master's chamber before I took off running through the castle. Ardam must think a new battle will begin soon. There isn’t much time. I have to leave the castle before it starts. A few servants stopped and stared at the unfamiliar middle-aged man dashing through hallways. None stopped me. To them, anyone this deep behind Ardam’s defenses could only be someone important.

I reached the stables and found a boy shoveling manure. “You there boy! Where is my horse?” I shouted, holding up my badge of authority. The boy cringed away from me as if I was about to hit him. It was only when I threatened to fetch the stable master that he pointed to where the master’s gift was waiting.

A fine gift it was too. The horse was a brown Rhoshan mare, bred for speed and fully saddled with provisions. It must have cost a fortune. That, plus an ambassador’s badge, spoke of his faith in me. Faith that I was going to repay tenfold once I’d claimed the power he spoke of.

I rode out in haste, not bothering to look back. It would sadden me to miss seeing another victory, but my return would make it all the sweeter. The journey itself was relatively easy to begin with since the road was empty. After the initial skirmish, the enemy had retreated to the north. All evidence suggested they would come from that direction again. Still, I had to get off the main road as soon as possible. I couldn’t take the chance that there weren’t enemy scouts in the area.

The journey may have been uneventful but it was anything but boring. It surprised me just how much I missed having control over my body. Every hour spent on my horse felt wonderful.

As the sky grew dark, my whole body ached and I could barely keep my eyes open. Reluctantly, I was forced to camp for the night. The kingdom's western border was still half a day’s ride away and if there was anything my master stressed, it was crossing the border as fast as possible. It pained me having to stop due to this weak body. Ardam wouldn’t have needed to rest. His energy had always felt limitless inside me.

As soon as I’d sat down, a bitter wind swept by. I wrapped my cloak tighter around myself, but the chill was still seeping in. There was no other option but to make a small fire. I simply couldn’t afford to get sick. My sore legs groaned in protest as I forced myself up and over to my saddle bags to retrieve a yellowish stone disc not much larger than a dinner plate. I set the disc down on the ground and tapped it with my badge. Bright flames erupted from the center and held steadily. Other than my horse, the fire stone was one of the few luxuries included in my provisions. It’s too bad it’ll stop working once I throw away the badge.

Just a short rest is all that’s needed, I thought to myself as I huddled around the fire. A yawn slipped out as I closed my eyes. A small nap will help keep me alert for the next stage of the journey. Claiming my glory was the last thing I pictured before falling asleep.

I awoke moments later with steel pressed against my neck and a man's voice telling me not to move. I opened my eyes and saw that I’d overslept. It was daytime which allowed me to notice just how filthy and haggard looking the man threatening me was. He had a scruffy beard and looked like he hadn’t slept for a week, but there was a wild alertness in his eyes that spoke of imminent danger.

“Help!” I called out, forgetting that I was alone.

He punched me in the stomach. I gasped as the air whooshed out of me. “One more word out of you without my say so and I’ll cut out your tongue. Understand?”

I thought about making a run for my horse. But he was not alone. There were six of them surrounding me, carrying knives and bows. Bandits? I studied their clothing. All of them wore faded blue military tunics, worn and torn but still recognizable as such. I cursed my luck.

Deserters.

At least with bandits, there was a chance they’d just rob you. Whereas a deserter might kill you for being a part of the enemy who killed their friends, or out of fear that you’d report their whereabouts to a watch commander. Deserters in war time who get re-captured often suffer slow agonizing deaths as a warning to the rest of the army. Depending on who they used to follow, the ambassador badge was either a death sentence or my ticket out of here. I squinted, but all of their tunics were too dirty to make out an insignia.

He pressed the knife tighter to my throat until I nodded.

The other deserters sorted through my meagre possessions in the saddle bags I’d left with the horse. Two of them had recognized the breed and kept petting it while marveling at their good fortune. Selling a horse like that could take them anywhere. But the deserters seemed unsatisfied with the four-legged treasure and kept searching by dumping everything on the floor. They were looking for something in particular. One of them must have noticed my badge and assumed I was on official business.

My heart jumped when they got to my last bag and the scroll fell out into the mud.

“Be careful with that,” I cried.

The one with the knife to my throat beckoned for another to take over while he went to fetch the scroll. The way they deferred to him marked him out as the leader of the group. He was the one I needed to convince if I was going to get out of here alive. The leader unrolled the map and stared for a moment before laughing and showing the others before waving it in my face.

“Worried about a blank piece of paper?”

I said nothing, hoping that he’d forget about it.

Suddenly all the humor slid off his face. “Or maybe there’s a hidden message on there? Tell me, what does it say?”

Master had said it was for my eyes only, but I didn’t think he’d meant that literally.

“I don’t know. I’m just the messenger,” I lied.

“A messenger with an official seal. Must be some message.”

Boom!

A massive explosion detonated on the battlefield some thirty miles from here.

I groaned. The next battle had begun. Master had warned me to hurry and get out of his lands. One day of agency and I’d already failed him.

The rest of them stopped what they were doing and unsheathed their knives. Their eyes darting around the forest for signs of a threat.

“What was that?” He asked.

“The next battle,” I replied.

The deserters paled and cast scared glances at one another. A couple of them looked ready to throw up. They must have witnessed the last battle.

There was a loud rumble as the ground shook beneath us. The leader holding the scroll panicked and almost dropped it into the fire.

“No!” I barked, trying to reach for it. The deserter drew a shallow cut against my throat as a warning.

There was a flash of light in the distance.

“You’re trespassing,” Ardam thundered.

His voice sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once. The deserters didn’t know where to look.

“I knew we shouldn’t have gone after an ambassador,” one of them groaned.

A couple of them dropped their weapons in surrender and ran away. The one holding a knife to me let go and stepped four paces back as if I was the dangerous one. I ignored them and focused on the scroll that the leader had picked back up. He looked concerned but he also didn’t want to leave empty handed.

There was another flash of light, followed by an explosion. The shock wave blasted through the forest, causing the trees to sway aggressively. Everyone crouched down and shielded their eyes. Everyone except me.

This was my chance.

I sprang to my feet and shoved the leader of the group. He tumbled backwards into the fire and screamed. I scrambled after the scroll, but his hand tightened around it. He tried to swat me away, but the fire distracted him. I dodged under his swing and punched him in the face while imagining it crumpling as so many others did beneath my master’s fists. Instead he shrugged it off easily and pushed me aside.

My hardest punch had almost no effect. It scared me so much that I couldn’t move. The leader rolled off the firestone and continued rolling in the dirt to put out the flames. Two brave associates who hadn’t run off then rushed over and helped him to his feet.

“You’ll pay for that, but first things first.” He held the scroll out over the fire.

“Please no,” I begged. “It’s a map to a great treasure. I can read it. I can show it to you. Just hand it to me.”

Despite what I’d done, he took a moment to consider my offer.

Another explosion occurred, this time louder and brighter than before. On instinct, he dropped the scroll and covered his eyes.

I screamed in frustration, unable to do anything except watch as the scroll fell into the fire and became consumed.

“Even now, with all your combined might, you are still afraid,” Ardam said.

He wasn’t talking to us. He was talking to the enemy. It wouldn’t be long before the deserters figured it out too.

I refused to give up. It’s not over. My master knows where the power is. I just have to get to him and request a new map. Thirty miles on foot was doable.

I took off running into the woods, praying they’d be too distracted to notice. Besides, I had nothing of value on me. It wouldn’t make sense to chase after me. I made it ten steps before I felt someone punch me in the back. My vision blurred and my legs stopped working. Then I felt the leaves on my cheek. How did I get on the ground?

I looked down to see an arrow sticking out of my chest.

Oh.

They must be close. Have to keep moving. I attempted to crawl, but it was so tiring.

And then everything went dark.