The battle went on until the defender managed to win, forcing the hellhounds and their allies to retreat. They were surprised by the demon cleansing weapons used by the defenders, which they did not have when they were attacked before. They were already prepared ever since the previous attack, and this time, they succeeded. Even so, there were still significant damages that, while less than previous attacks, were still emotionally devastating.
Like before, the attacks came as a surprise, and sadly, this made timely evacuation impossible. Many of the victims were civilians who were panicking and got in the way of the demons and the hellhound attackers. These demons were vicious and brutal, especially when they did not hesitate to tear their victims to pieces. The survivors were traumatized by the gruesome deaths and, with the short time interval between attacks, the psychological damage was very high. Recovery was going to be a long process, with many deciding that Summinat was too unsafe for children to grow up in despite its distance from Tragoria.
The one who needed the most recovery, however, was Ifrit. Not only did he find that he had a penchant for cruelty, he also found out that he was demon, or half of it, at least. The fact that he was so needlessly cruel and sadistic disgusted him to the core. Ifrit, despite his violent and brutal way of dispatching his enemies, did not enjoy it. His more demonic personality, however, enjoyed seeing his enemies squirm and despair before he tortured them with a slow, painful death. He could argue that it was not him, but he was certain no one would believe him. He was not possessed or anything. It was a manifestation of a second, more violent, personality.
He never wished to see them scream like that. He never wanted it. Yet, it happened, and he had no one to blame but himself.
Anubis and Arnulfe tried to comfort the distraught hellhound, but even they could not relate. They were also stunned by the surprise that Ifrit possessed a darker personality that was in sharp contrast with his caring and kind attitude. Yet, that was the duality of an Underworlder, in which they could be the kindest individual around, but circumstances caused them to deal with a lot of problems with violence. Even Anubis, a shy and supposedly helpless Death’s Jackal, could fight in his own way. So did Arnulfe, a cheerful, optimistic Fuzandre who liked to taunt his enemies while also having to deal with his insatiable thirst for blood.
As they tried to convince Ifrit that things would be alright, Rhynsa approached Sammael. He was still a bit reluctant to start talking with the Barghest. Even if he did not want to, however, Sammael had earlier decided that their animosity must end if they wanted to work together effectively.
“(Hey, Barghest),” said Rhynsa, calling for Sammael.
“(What?)” replied Sammael.
“(In case you didn’t notice it earlier, one of Schelkz’s leg is mismatched).”
Sammael looked at Ifrit and focused on his legs. He soon noticed the mismatched legs. One of them was a regular anthropomorphic hellhound paw, while the other was caprine, but proportional to the size of a humanoid. Sammael quickly realized what that meant.
“(Was it grafted onto him?)” asked Rhynsa.
“(No, it’s worse. Much, much worse),” said Sammael. “(When we met, I couldn’t tell if he is the same Ifrit that traveled with me three years ago. It’s not his personality. It’s our link).”
“(The seal that made you obedient to someone with a Schelkz blood),” surmised Rhynsa.
“(I think you know what I mean).”
“(Yeah. You’re loyal to a fault. Fanatically, even).”
“(I don’t think that’s the right word).”
“(It looks like that to me. Look, I don’t want to argue with you. Tell me about this link. So, you can’t think of him as your loving master anymore?)”
“(I thought he’s not Ifrit, but a ghoul taking his body and his memories. Then, that happened. I felt so little. So…subservient. It’s not because of the seal, or because he’s my master. It’s a simple…level of hierarchy. We were…so different).”
“(Hierarchy? So, his half-demon heritage was…something far more than you?)”
“(That goat leg…that’s what I fear the most. Master Hynorsi, he…).”
“(He went too far. First you, then Ifrit).” Rhynsa tightened the grip on his rifle. “(If that asshole was still alive, I’d rip him a new one. No, I think I’d be more satisfied with killing him. This is his son, goddamn it).”
Sammael could not say anything that would not sound like he was taking the side of the Schelkz. By now, he realized that he had a tendency to be extremely loyal to those bearing the blood of the Schelkz. Even if he wanted to believe that Ifrit’s no longer himself, his mind tried to contradict himself. He wasn’t even sure if the thoughts he had then was his own.
However, Sammael was concerned about Ifrit, even if what partially because of the bias. Ifrit fought the Drurach (the armored, rhinoceros-like demon) using an ability that only a demon of higher ranks possessed. The cloven-hoofed leg only confirmed Sammael’s fears.
Ifrit was one-half Infernal.
Sammael kept thinking on how a Fifth Circle demon of Wrath could procreate, but he was not unaware of his former master’s knowledge on demons, or even the dark rituals that could accommodate this. Infernals were known to be straightforward and less cunning than many other demons. They were made from the image of Belial, the prince of Violence, and with what limited knowledge the Barghest had on Belial, that prince reveled in violence. An Infernal would do more chaos to feed the violence to their prince than to bargain.
But an Infernal half-demon was very unprecedented. While bargaining with a demon was generally a bad idea, an Infernal was even worse. They did not care for lust: that’s the job of the demons in the Circle of Lust. An Infernal could be vulnerable to a sealing rite, but they would still have autonomy and possibly choice. It was also possible that the summoner was manipulated by the Infernal. Sammael had a sad distinction of being the example that lost his free will, owing to his lesser status as a First Circle Demon.
Sammael wondered whether the violent aspects of Ifrit’s personality was suppressed by his desire for unnecessary violence. Or maybe it laid dormant until Ifrit’s supposed death. Even then, Sammael could not help.
Ifrit was still shaken from what he did, even after being offered tea by Anarim in Eshdar’s home. Anubis, as he sat waiting for the tea, noticed the red aura around Sammael and asked, “(You a demon?)”
“(It’s not that obvious at first glance, but yeah),” said Sammael. “(I’m Ifrit’s friend. It’s a long story).”
“(Doesn’t look like you’re malicious. Your aura is demonic, but it felt restrained somehow. It was as if you’re sealed).”
“(Aura? What are you…?)”
Sammael turned to Anubis and noticed that the Jackal was blind. His faded golden eyes and the long stare were obvious indications. Sammael wasn’t sure about how the Jackal could sense aura given that Jackals did not have that ability.
“(Jackals don’t usually sense aura),” remarked Sammael.
“(I just can. It’s the only thing I can see in the darkness),” said Anubis.
“(Hmm…well, that is strange. But it’s very helpful in many situations. What’s your name?)”
“(Anubis Caropus).”
“(A Caropus prince? So, your family’s the guardian of the gates of hell?)” said Sammael.
“(Well…not really now. Haven’t got the training, either. I’m blind since birth and I’m one of the youngest).”
“(That doesn’t mean you’re out of the game).”
“(I appreciate your encouragement, but I know myself better than anyone else).”
Anubis’s sigh was enough to tell Sammael that he was aware on how helpless he was without someone else’s help. The Barghest chose not to make things harder for the Jackal and focused on the conversation with Ifrit, who had been trying to explain his actions.
“(Of course),” muttered Anubis under his breath. “(Always the odd one out).”
“(Not exactly).”
Arnulfe’s voice came from behind him, but he turned to his right when he felt a sharp claw tapping his right shoulder.
“(Rhynsa’s usually the one with the plan. He said I’m too much of a wild card to even consider a sound strategy),” said Arnulfe. “(But I’m good with being random. I know he thinks that way, though Rhynsa being Rhynsa, he prefers keeping it to himself).”
“(How random, exactly)?” asked Anubis.
“(Well, I once announced myself in front of our enemies, declaring that I’m a target),” said Arnulfe with a chuckle. “(Never fails every time. Well, I got shot a couple of times by some trigger-happy folks, but I don’t need more than a second. You see, Ani. Can I call you that?)”
“(Sure).”
“(Fuzandres have an ability to hypnotize susceptible people. Surface dwellers are very susceptible. We can only do this after we have our fill of blood. Rhynsa can affect one person, but I can mass hypnotize. Kinda nifty, don’t you think? I could only do it once a day, but after some training, I can do it three times a day).”
“(That’s…very impressive),” said Anubis.
“(Well, too bad it’s visual-based, so if no one look at me, no one will fall under my influence).” Arnulfe, while he knew Anubis couldn’t see it, let out a smile. “(If we happen to be fighting, the fight might not end as quick as I have hoped).”
“(Don’t sell yourself too short, Arnulfe),” said Anubis, smiling.
“(Well, I’m trying to be humble, but okay, then).”
The two had a pause, before they started laughing softly. Arnulfe was so honest that Anubis was slightly taken aback. While he knew Arnulfe had his own secrets, the fact that he wasn’t afraid to brag about his achievements, while also keeping it within acceptable levels, made Anubis felt at ease, much like how Ifrit helped him at first
Ifrit had his own problems now, so Arnulfe was the only one he could talk to. The Jackal could only say one thing to the Fuzandre, to express his gratitude.
“(Thank you, Arnulfe),” said Anubis, trying to find the Fuzandre with his hands. He touched Arnulfe’s right wing. “(You make things easier for me).”
“(Hey, that’s what friends are for, right? Do you consider me a friend?)”
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“(I do. It’s not easy declaring that, not after everything that happened to me).”
“(Well, you don’t seem to be just friends),” teased Arnulfe, before he moved his wing and held Anubis’s hand up before attempting to put his elongated, membraned fingers between the Jackal’s black furred hands. This caused Anubis to become flustered and instinctively pulled his hand away.
“(O-oh! Wait! I…didn’t mean to…).”
“(It’s fine, Ani. Bet you never felt something like that before, huh?)” said Arnulfe. “(It’s impossible to hold on things with my wings, but hands? Not a problem. Ya know…I’m down for it if you are).”
“(D-down?)”
Arnulfe could only smile as Anubis came up to the conclusion on his own, causing him to become embarrassed and tried to look away from Arnulfe’s source of voice. The androgynous-looking Jackal was so cute when he was blushing and acting shy.
It’s quite a break from the seriousness of Rhynsa and Mizarka.
***
“(I killed so I can survive),” said Ifrit, talking about his current predication. “(I never enjoy it. I don’t need to make them suffer just because I can).”
“(But you did not stop, even when that hellhound begged for it),” said Rhynsa.
“(It wasn’t me! Yes, the body’s mine, but it wasn’t me!)”
“(We never said it was you, Ifrit),” said Anarim, who joined the conversation when the Ifrit, Rhynsa, and Sammael decided to consult Anarim about Ifrit’s situation. “(But your case’s very weak. Both me and Rhynsa don’t know you well enough to be convinced. Sammael is very biased).”
“(Then what should I do?)
“(How about if we ask your demonic self?)” asked Rhynsa. “(Maybe he can explain).”
That sounded like a bad idea for Ifrit to the point he quickly said, “(What?! No! I don’t want him to get out again!)”
“(We can’t get the answer unless you do it, Schelkz),” said Rhynsa. “(Do you want answers or not?)”
Ifrit was reluctant in doing this, but just as everyone in that room needed answer, he needed it to. In fact, he had the trigger, and it was fire.
Before that day, he never wondered why he was healed by fire, thinking that it was a hellhound thing to be rejuvenated by fire. He never lost control when he used a fire. Now, he started to become wary of it not because it would hurt, but because he did not want to hurt others he cared about. His mind started to turn to Lilac on how she would react, oblivious to the fact that she already knew.
“(Alright),” said Ifrit after a moment of silent deliberation. “(I’ll do it. But, just in case, you need to restrain me).”
“(Already ahead of you, Schelkz),” said Rhynsa as he produced a rope, which made Ifrit wonder if he already planned to do what he suggested from the start.
Ifrit tried not to struggle as Rhynsa tied him to a sturdy chair, but then found that the Fuzandre might have tied him a little too tight. Ifrit made this point to the Fuzandre, who simply shrugged and said, “(Hey, you said you don’t want your ally’s blood on your hand. You can’t be too careful, Schelkz).”
Rhynsa had a point. As Ifrit tested the bindings, he found that he was unable to move an inch.
“(Right),” said Anarim. “(Let’s go from the top. When your personality manifested, what did you do?)”
“(I tried to heal myself with fire),” said Ifrit. “(I know it’s not a hellhound thing, but that’s how it is).”
“(Are you sure you’re being healed by fire? Be certain. We can’t risk causing permanent injury).”
“(I did this all the time ever since I discovered it).”
“(It did not heal your ear, as I noticed).”
“(I wasn’t being healed by fire that time).”
“(Right).” Rhynsa then pulled out his combat knife. Ifrit noticed the blade and was a little disheartened.
“(W-wait. Maybe you should just...).”
“(Nope).”
And with that, Rhynsa stabbed Ifrit’s thigh with it. Ifrit let out a pained grunt, noticing that Rhynsa was careful not to stab his combat knife through Ifrit’s bone. However, it started to become so painful, like he was being burned. Sammael, ever the guardian, tried to intervene, but Ifrit said, “(It’s alright! I just need fire to heal it! Fuck! It’s burning me!)”
“(Yeah. Forgot to mention that it’s anti-demonic),” said Rhynsa as he pulled the knife. “(Molten cleansing silver coat).”
Without skipping a beat, the Fuzandre pulled out a pocket lighter and put the fire so it burned the wound. To everyone’s amazement, the wound started to heal, leaving almost no mark. Rhynsa turned to look at Ifrit, who only felt the warmth of the fire and not the burning sensation.
“(Anything?)”
“(Uh…I’m supposed to witness a hellish landscape right about--).”
Ifrit stopped as he started convulsing. Everyone was more fixated to his convulsion and struggle to get out of the bond. then the convulsion stopped, with Ifrit slumped on the chair. Everyone was worried that something terrible happened to him when he quickly jerked his head up. His red eyes glowed an unnatural color and his slit pupil became more apparent. He looked around, assessing the situation as if he was planning an escape.
“(What a pain in the ass),” said a dark, menacing voice. “(So, am I in trouble, now?)”
“(You’re the demonic personality, huh?)” said Rhynsa as he leaned on the wall nearby. “(Well, I expected something more…).”
“(Violent? Wrathful?)” continued the demonic personality, along with a chuckle. “(I have self-control, you know, namely my other self. He’s the kind one).”
“(He’s conflicted because of you),” said Anarim. “(So, what are you? Repressed trauma? Darkness manifested from a previous demonic possession)?”
“(How about if you change your perspective and consider the history of my family?)” said Ifrit. He then turned to Rhynsa and said, “(Maybe you should know more, Rhynsa).”
“(What secrets do they keep again?)” said Rhynsa with a sigh. “(Seriously, it always is their fault, isn’t it?)”
“(Well, I found out about it earlier than he does),” said the dark personality. “(I am an Infernal spawn).”
“(The spawn of an Infernal?)” said Sammael in disbelief. “(But, Infernals don’t mate! They revel in chaos! And don’t say I’m wrong because I am a demon myself. We do not procreate).”
“(Yet he did),” said Ifrit. “(As you say, it is not as intended. Which is why I am kept locked in Ifrit’s psyche for his own protection. I…am his demonic side. I am the chaos of his tranquility. The black to his white).”
“(A separate personality),” concluded Rhynsa. “(One borne from a demon’s seed).”
“(Whatever you want to think about, Fuzandre. Thus, our memories are the same. He knew what I knew, and right now, we both share everything, except his voice and his body is mine).”
“(Why do you show yourself now?)” asked Anarim.
“(Maybe you should ask the Fuzandre about it. He and that gal saw his death).”
“(So, Ifrit was killed on that bridge),” said Sammael. “(And his death…).”
“(Released me from his mind’s prison, and the moment my body was healed by fire…is the moment where I am free to sow chaos among my enemies).”
“(Your enemies?)” said Rhynsa.
“(Ifrit’s enemies are mine. His darkest desire was to see those who hurt his Lilac die and suffer. Well, he has his limits, but then…he forgot where he dumped all that darkness. And, oh boy, did it feel great to finally be able to stretch and smell the air. Their blood tasted like wine, and their screams were music to my ears. To see them in disarray and scattered, then to do it again…oh, how marvelous).”
“(Damn. I guess a Schelkz can always be a psycho, after all),” quipped Rhynsa. “(Well, there’s ruthless, there’s kind, and there’s the crazy one).”
Ifrit chuckled. “(Well, thanks).”
“(It wasn’t funny),” said Rhynsa as his expression turned serious. “(I made a choice to honor his memories, to remember the Schelkz that acted differently from his parents. Now, I doubt I am doing the right thing. If only you stayed dead…).”
“(Well, he might want that, but I don’t. Sacrificing myself? What kind of a stupid joke is that)?”
Sammael had enough. He never felt so much anger hearing how this second personality turned Ifrit into an unrepentant and sadistic demon. He was going to pounce Ifrit and make the demon stop talking, but Anarim, sensing the aggression, stopped Sammael by grabbing him.
“(Wait! That’s still his body!)” said Anarim.
“(Yeah. What are you going to do? Scratch me in the face? He is still listening, you know. He’ll…oh, I guess my time’s up. Turned out main personality’s the stronger of us two).”
There was another convulsion, then the head slumping. But, instead of jerking up, he kept slumped. Rhynsa noticed tears coming down from his eyes.
“(No…I didn’t do it),” pleaded Ifrit. “(I didn’t know! I didn’t…oh, no. What have I done?!)”
“(Ifrit…whatever the case, you did not do it),” comforted Anarim. “(It was…simply a moment of lapse).”
“(But he is my darkest desire! Everything I did was all because I wanted it so! Deep down, all I wanted was to go back and kill the hellhounds who wronged me! They killed my foster parents! They destroyed Lilac’s life! They…they…).”
Everyone could only see as Ifrit cried, realizing that it was all because of him. His darkest desires fueled the demon inside him, and his quest for vengeance was bloody and beyond his control.
And to make it all worse, he heard a voice. He wanted to think that he was imagining it, but it was the deep voice that talked just now. He taunted him.
“(Just accept it, Ifrit Schelkz),” said the voice. “(You’re the same as them).”
***
The revelation that Ifrit was half-Infernal shook the group in a way that they never felt before. While they did not harbor an ill will towards him, Ifrit became depressed once he knew he could possibly lose himself in any time. For Ifrit, his true enemy was himself, and he never felt so helpless before.
The others did not mind the other personality that much since he did not seem to be a danger to Ifrit’s allies, considering that he still followed the main personality’s whims. His confession also gave them a clue that Ifrit was the same demon that caused the chaos in the incursion, indirectly delaying the advance from Tragoria so the opposition could regroup. They would thank him if only it wasn’t such a twisted way to do it. In any case, the revelation of his heritage and his dark personality made it harder for them to understand him. Ifrit remained an enigma.
This Ifrit, while retaining the memories of the Ifrit before his unfortunate demise, was a different Ifrit.
They did not know how to break this news to Albert, Eshdar, and Lilac, his three closest surface world friends and lover. While they had been told about Ifrit’s demonic origins, they assumed that he died without ever knowing that fact. Now that Ifrit manifested a dark split personality, they could end up devastated by the fact. But Sammael tried not to think of it that way. Of the others in that room, only he had a considerable time travelling with the three, and he knew what they would do.
“(They’d try and believe that Ifrit is harmless to them. To all of us),” said Sammael. “(But…I cannot be sure about the shock of knowing that he returned to life).”
“(You know what?)” said Rhynsa after sighing. “(Let’s not make things complicated and just assume that Schelkz and whatever demonic personality inside of him can control themselves).”
“(No, it’s best if I…stay out of everyone’s way),” said Ifrit, feeling depressed. “(He may claim so, but what if…).”
“(Hey. If your own darkness is causing you problems, maybe you ought to start distracting yourself from it),” said Rhynsa. “(Try to find something you think is meaningful and don’t stop. I know I did).”
“(But you still don’t like me).”
“(That’s an entirely different matter).”
Everyone tried their best to give the depressed hellhound words of encouragement, but Ifrit felt differently, especially now that he heard voices in his head taunting him. He tried to believe that it was his own dark desires getting out of control, but what if it was his own heart speaking? What if he was the sadistic, despicable, and demonic creature, and only used the excuse of a different personality to explain it? Maybe it was his own desire for revenge.
If that was the case, he was so sure that meeting Lilac would feel different. If Sammael, a loyal demon, could move on and assume he was resurrected by the demons as their servant, what would Lilac, a mortal, do? Three years were such a long time.
But Lilac was no longer his immediate concern. Right now, he had a demon he needed to control: himself. And to start with that, he chose precaution. Knowing that the trigger for the other personality was attempting to heal with fire, Ifrit decided that he would heal without using fire, at least until he knew that he would not be taken over.
Yet, even with all that precaution, only interacting with his acquaintances could help him relax, knowing that everyone was trying to help him and not distancing him. In the days after the revelation that he was a half-Infernal with a second personality, while the others were busy rebuilding Summinat, Anubis and Sammael were the ones who primarily took care of Ifrit after the shocking revelation, followed by Arnulfe and Rhynsa, who came from time to time.
Anubis did not mind Ifrit for having dark thoughts. He could relate after five years of abuse. In fact, he did act on his vengeance when he ripped his latest tormenter’s heart out, and he never regretted that moment. So, he related about it, and to his relief, Ifrit felt that it helped him understand his current peril.
“(But I still can’t understand why I developed a second personality),” said Ifrit. “(It’s like I snapped one day and…it was just there. It claimed to always be with me since birth, but I can’t understand how).”
“(Whatever the case, if you know he can’t hurt anyone else, then you won’t),” said Anubis.
“(To be honest, suddenly knowing that there is an Infernal blood in you is…overwhelming. I can’t even imagine that all this time, I’m a hellspawn with split personality issues).”
“(Well, for a supposed hellspawn, you’re not half bad),” said Anubis with a smile. “(The contrasting qualities makes you even more attractive, at least in my head).”
“(Did you just hit on me?)”
Anubis could only laugh as Ifrit blushed.
Ifrit knew Anubis did not hide the fact that he was flirting with him. The Jackal had recovered from his traumatic experience ever since they escaped from the prison with Rhynsa and Arnulfe. In just four days, the previously malnourished and traumatic Jackal had regained weight and even composure. He was still physically slim, but not unhealthy slim. He even found a great appreciation for tea due to Anarim. Ifrit also noticed that he was quite close to Arnulfe, who seemed to be a good company for the blind Jackal.
Seeing how Anubis managed to recover in such a short time made Ifrit even more determined to conquer the darkness within him. He was trying not to hear his inner voice taunting him that it was useless, that being half-demon, it was part of his legacy to seed chaos. But, at his present, shaken state, it would take a while for him to start understanding himself.
And as he worked on this, the rest of the continent were gearing up for a possible return of the offense from the enemy. The hellish incursion was not over yet.