A sharp mix of pain and dread forced Ava back to consciousness. The light grey walls surrounding her blurred into semi-focus. What was this place? An Adept’s practice? How did I get here? She groaned and tentatively touched her abdomen.

Her stitches had ripped again when they had run blindly into the invisible horde, and her reopened wound bled onto the ash-covered floor. Something on her shirt collar felt rough. Her neck itched as it rubbed against it. She absent-mindedly scratched at her throat and the skin burned under the scraping of her nails. Beast!

She shifted painfully, heart hammering, turned and found him in a haphazard bundle at her side. He had not placed himself there. It almost seemed like he had been thrown down that way.

“Beast!” she croaked weakly.

She shook him with a blood-covered hand. His shedding fur clung to it. He did not respond but she could still see his torso rise and fall steadily. The moment of relief did not last long. Her heart froze and beat painfully in her chest. There was another presence here with them. She could feel its malicious intent curling tightly around her throat.

“The creature is fine. Though why it would take such a loathsome form is beyond my understanding,” a baritone voice cooed from a room beyond.

Its purpose was to calm, but all the melodious sound did was make the hairs on her neck raise in alarm.

“But an advantage I will not begrudge. My control over it would not have worked otherwise. No need to fret, it is only a paralysis spell to keep its better nature from doing something… foolish while you and I talk.”

A demonkin appeared in the room’s doorway, carrying a healer’s satchel dangling from darkly clawed fingers. He bent as he moved through the door frame. The long, black, curling horns bowed his head slightly from their weight.

He flexed his body-length wings, shaking ash from the dark feathers while his jagged tail scattered the piles on the floor. He had the strong and heavy set of an orc but had an elf’s unnatural beauty and starry eyes. Neither helped ease Ava’s dread at being in his presence.

He stalked across the floor and dropped the satchel carelessly onto a nearby table, far out of reach.

The demonkin watched her for a moment. His lips pursed tightly with a great measure of disappointment.

“I did not think the poison would weaken you so, Narez’nya,” he sneered.

Ava’s mind unwittingly tried to interpret the ancient words. So similar they were to orcish, but their meaning danced beyond her comprehension. Her stomach lurched at the attempt, but it paled in comparison to the piercing pain growing in her head. It felt like a nail slowly being twisted into her skull. She got the distinct intrusive feeling that her thoughts were being monitored.

She tried to empty it, but the devil only laughed at her feeble resistance.

“You can no more stop yourself from thinking than you can from breathing. Eventually, something will give. It will be easier if you do not struggle. I do not intend to harm you, but you are beginning to wear on my patience.”

He squatted before her, glaring down with the alertness of a predator poised to strike at the first movement. Her image was reflected in the glossy black scales that arrowed down his forehead. Apart from the wings, horns, and tail, she could almost understand why people mistook her for one of them. There were only minor differences in the aspects they shared.

“Bah, like comparing a Sea Serpent to a Mudfish,” he muttered, disdainfully.

Was I the serpent or the fish? She could not tell. His eyes held wonder, but also disgust. His thoughts were both elated and revolted by her presence. It was hard to tell which side he leaned toward more.

“Tell me what you want and be gone,” she grumbled, trying to shift away from his unsettling closeness, both in her mind and in the physical world. This interaction felt like she was trying to navigate across a pit of spikes in the dark.

“Perhaps I wanted you to remember, but it was a vain hope. Your father does not play fair. He has not even left you with the memory of your name.”

The demonkin’s tone changed. It was softer and wistful.

Ava squinted suspiciously at the strange change in demeanour. Did they know each other? There was a shift in the heavy malice wafting darkly around the demonkin’s frame. She could almost detect another presence in its chaotic movement.

The demonkin smiled, his fangs sharper and thicker than hers.

“Clever girl, you have finally noticed me. Your soul magic is developing favourably. Now you will hear my deal.

“You seek the Spirits, yes? I will take you to each one. You will no longer need to tiptoe around these useless mortals to collect them, nor squander the advantages they give you by saving their pitiful lives. No more death, no more struggle. Your trials will be easy and safe with me working beside you.”

Ava felt a similar heat creep back to the forefront of her mind.

“In exchange for what?” she asked, trying to fight off the wave of dizziness.

There were kernels of truth in his words, feelings and half thoughts given sense and voice. Having the Frost Spirit active would have made her journey through the fields easier. Her struggles now were the price she had to pay for saving Prince Caeden from that cave-in. But would I have gotten this far without him? It was clear that the demonkin was trying to twist things, but to decipher the truths from the lies and manipulations through this pain was going to be exhaustive.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“You are overthinking. I want nothing but to ensure your and the Greater Spirits safety. Once you have them all, you are to retire to your wizard’s pocket realm and leave the mortal world behind,” it sang. “It is as simple as that.”

‘Deny it! It offers you a life free of strife while using you to cause it elsewhere. Do not trust the forked tongues of these scions. They will tell you nothing but lies and use illusions to blind you from the truth.’

“Be gone, Inferno! This conversation is between your keeper and me,” the demonkin bellowed, angrily.

Ava’s head felt like it was splitting apart, her mind playing host to too many consciousnesses. She held onto her temples, hoping to relieve the pain. The Fire Spirit was right. This… this felt like a trap. She could not trust this demonkin.

“You are the one behind my poisoning.”

He seemed taken aback by her sudden accusation at first, but his predatory smile confirmed that she had understood his statement earlier.

“Your poison, not poisoning. The fault for that lies with the mortals you so desperately wish to protect. Just a gentle whisper of a promise and they would sell anything and everything. You know this. The Inferno knows this.

“That boy will not welcome you to his Empire. You already know what he thinks of you. He said as much. He showed you what truly lurks in the dark recesses of his mind while you gently cared for him.

“He will use you and discard you when you are no longer useful. It is their nature. These… parasites! They hate you. Despise you. Simply for being created as what you are,” he growled, shifting into various humans as he spoke. She recognized only one. Gretchen. “I do not understand your unfounded affection for them.”

How long has this demonkin been following them around and watching?

“You put this all into motion! Are you working with Azael?”

He laughed, loudly, incredulous that she would ask such a thing… or think it. In his dark and chaotic mind, she could sense the demonkin’s feelings toward The Shadow King. Azael was still mortal despite bending the boundaries of what that meant. There was no allegiance owed to him, save ones that could help him reach his own goal.

His consciousness split and she was shoved out of it. Her headache grew worse. Trying to sieve through his thoughts using the connection he drilled into her mind was akin to smashing her head against a brick wall.

“Would you have given him the Frost Spirit had I died?” she gritted out. Her vision swam from the pain.

She knew without his confirmation that it would have been a possibility, if not a certainty.

“Eh, I am undecided,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “A dominated and unliving world is still a living world in a different form. But the end would be within reach. If we are to be truly free and witness infinite bliss, this accursed world and its mortal chain must break,” he growled, indicating with a clawed hand to her and him.

“I wished to burn the rot away and start anew. But I see that will not be possible while the Darkest One still holds sway in both planes. It will continue to influence and corrupt until all existence is unmade. My sister was right. Remove yourself from this scion, we have no choice but to save what is left!”

“Be gone! I...” Ava demanded angrily. She flinched in pain.

The demonkin had read the Fire Spirit’s thoughts before she could speak the words. His hand squeezed down on her shoulders, the claws digging into her flesh, while his wrath rammed painfully against her mind.

“Ungrateful fool, do you know the trouble I went through to keep the fiends and pestilent away from you? I got her here while these humans kept her away,” he yelled irate. “And still, you would choose them over me!”

She felt the Fire Spirit’s response rather than heard it. Unwavering doubt. Whether or not the demonkin truly believed it was being helpful, it had not just tricked the fiends and undead. It tricked the Spirit, disrupting its senses with its illusions as well. And it raged because of it.

“And the ash fiend. Was it yours?” Ava burst out, fighting through the mental anguish.

“Heh, you have many enemies, Narez’nya. Not all reside on the mortal plane,” he grinned viciously. “I can change into whoever I want. Position myself wherever I wish. I do not need to shove hapless souls into bestial forms to get the job done.”

Ava struggled to make sense of any of this. The demonkin’s poison could have killed me, not to mention the attack itself. Numerous factors led me here. The Ash Fiend, Ser Derric’s and Bethany’s deaths. Prince Caeden… How could he account for them all? How did he expect me to end up here despite it all?

She looked at the demonkin as he sifted through her myriads of rapid thoughts. There was nothing but a hateful and dark void in his red eyes. There was no plan, just a wanton need to sow chaos. It could just as easily kill her here than help her if the action caused more strife, despite his affectionate pretence. His deal aimed at removing her and the Spirits from the battlefield, leaving the conflicting six lands to battle an invincible Azael and his dead army alone. No, I must even the battlefield whether the Spirits will it or not!

Instinct ran through her body, and she unsheathed her dagger, thrusting it in his shoulder.

He blocked it before it tore in too deep, but the sharp tip was enough to disrupt his connection with her mind and the aura of malice sputtered.

A different awareness entered his eyes, confused and then fearful.

“What have you done? We must not be separated!” he hissed. His voice quivered with panic as he quickly averted his gaze. “Do not look at me!”

He grabbed her head, and she reeled back, pushing his hand away from her face. His claws snagged on her skin, leaving angry, burning lines down her face.

Beast growled beside her, shifting to his feet, no longer under the effect of the demonkin’s spell. He pounced on him a moment later.

They tumbled through the surgical tables in a mess of fur and feathers, before the demonkin fluttered into the air and threw the saber cat from him with ungodly strength.

Beast twisted midair and landed heavily on his feet, stalking toward him without hesitation.

The demonkin growled in annoyance, testing the texture of his dark red blood between his fingers as if confused by its presence there. The clarity of consciousness was replaced by roiling chaos once more.

“Very well! Learn your lesson the hard way, just as your father will,” he grunted.

He lifted his arm and blasted a concentration of force through the ceiling, flying through the broken hole.

Banging rattled against the building, followed by a chorus of baleful moans. Ava staggered to her feet and pushed one of the overturned tables against the door before her legs gave out and she leaned against it weakly. She did not realise how tense she had been during the encounter with the demonkin and now her strength seemed to sap completely from her body.

Prince Caeden would be able to catch up with me now. She knew he would follow, despite her wishes for him to stay alive and away from harm. She saw his stubborn resolve written in his eyes before he passed out. I need to warn him! Before he falls under the same illusion I did!

[Note from the Haelionthyne, the Original Author of The Hybrid: Chasing Destiny: This novel is only published and freely available to read on My Patreon, Royal Road and Tapas. Support me directly with your readership there. No other websites or reading platforms have my permission, express or blanket, to publish my novel or distribute it further.]