The Demon’s Savior

Chapter 2. The Lost Demon

Cath

The demon lay forgotten in a filthy cell under the furthest of the royal towers, his body hanging on his broken hands, still chained to the wall after the last torture had happened some time ago. He looked thin and fragile, like with the next heavier blow of the wind he would scatter to ashes and fade away into the night. 

The traces of what he had endured for as long as it was going on were so visible on every part of his body that Cath had no idea what to make of it. For one, he felt he was getting sick. Even someone like him, who was forced to grow up quickly in the war that followed the demons descend, was not prepared for this horror. 

He had expected he wouldn’t care, he himself had slain so many of them on the battlefield once the war was still raging and he was blind with the lust for vengeance. Even now the old rage crawled in his chest like embers, waiting for the spark to loom into a devastating fire once again. The euphyrs had made themselves the enemies of the entire world, Cath shouldn’t be affected by what they were inflicting on one another or why. As long as they suffered, it was all the same to him

 Yet, no matter how much he wanted to believe he didn’t care, that he was tough enough to take any sight, he just couldn’t look away. It didn’t matter that Anya Seftha was here in the cell with him, observing his every reaction, or that the guards were ready to attack just if they didn’t like the way he looked at their precious queen. While the sickness was rising within him, while the buzzing in his head just refused to go away, Cath could not deny, not in front of himself, that he was… shaken. There was no better way to describe it. 

Still chained himself, Cath was not able to tear his eyes from the sight. The small cell reeked of black blood and piss and s**t, and spoiled food. A plate with greyish slob lay forgotten some feet away, flies flying above it; the floor was covered with rotten straws, stained with long dried-up blood and only the gods knew what else; ragged cloths rolled around; the air - humid and hot, and sickening to the core.

Across the cell, there was a large window, nothing special besides the fact it was too wide and positioned in a way to allow all the possible light to flood the place. Here, there was no veil of black magic to cover the deadly streaks of the sunlight that was toxic for the demons from the euphyr tribes. It must be scorching the male’s skin throughout the whole day, for too many days… If there was any doubt about the nature of the vile euphyrs, this sight right here was the evidence. No other species would so successfully make use of their weaknesses to inflict such pain on one of their own. 

The captured creature looked like an infected wound, so rotten that it may be far beyond salvation. The body was thin and seemingly lacking any strength, barely covered with the decaying pieces of cloth. The ribs protruded under the skin, which seemed thin as paper and was marked with so many burn scars, and cuts and dirt, and bruises in all different colors, old and new, layered one on top of the other in a deadly picture, which sealed the sad truth that he may never recover from this. 

Open wounds pierced the thighs and abdomen – they pulsed on the surface, bleeding small drops of dark blue blood, poisoned blood that seemed so different from the clear ice that usually ran in the veins of his kind. 

Cath made one more step inside the cage, his heart throbbing with unfamiliar pain, one that he never in his life imagined he could feel for an enemy. He felt his own body to be too large for the confined space, his back almost hitting the bars across the wall, his shoulders squeezing uncomfortably. It was all that was left of his self-control not to vomit because of the stench that flooded the air and mixed with the flowery scent of the queen’s perfume. He could feel Anya’s gaze who still stood there, watching his every move.

And then he saw it. It was not possible to see earlier, because of the insufficient light that the fire globes provided, opposed to the sunlight, and the shameful fact that Cath was almost blind at night. But there they were – the shackles made of iron that carved deep holes in the wrists and ankles of the male, so deep they had ingrown within the bone and flesh, sizzling and burning, with every healing, and the demons were notorious with their quick healing skills.        

Turning around to face the disgusted impatient expression of the queen, Cath barely held his frustration. He could not join with this broken male, not in this lifetime, not for any prize in the world. Especially not with one who was hiding such a gruesome secret that even the endless tortures could not make him give it up. This was a fate crueler and scarier even than the one the poor creature in the cell had to endure. 

Cath’s eyes involuntarily went up to examine closely the male’s face. It could’ve been a pretty face once – pale skin, strong square jaw, and long thick eyelashes, dark eyebrows and long silky red hair, covering elegant pointed ears, but now… the white skin was bruised and dirty and smeared with blood and who knew what else. The eyes were closed and swollen, and the pointy ears were cut round – the biggest punishment and disgrace for a demon. His hair, another sign of the euphyr’s tribe honor, was tangled and dirty, clinging to his skull and making him seem more of a beast that came out of a horror tale, than an actual being who once walked freely in the ice depts of the underworld, tending for the souls of the fallen.

“So, why aren’t you doing it?” The sweet voice of the queen came to him distant and cold, making the hairs on his neck stand. 

Cath couldn’t turn around fast enough, couldn’t think fast enough. But when he did turn, everything changed.

“It is not possible to do it with him in this condition” He heard himself saying. “Help me heal him and I will do your bidding”