The Demon’s Savior

Chapter 4. Choices

Cath

The demon was screaming again and in another world, Cath would imagine he thrived in the sound of his screams. Back on the battlefield, when they forced a war upon him, when he was still young and filled with lust for vengeance, the sound of demons screaming would be the one thing that made him go through days and nights. A dangerous thing this darkness was, and for a brief moment he had begun to like it. Not now. It was one thing to slaughter your enemies in a war for survival, but to bathe in the terror of somebody broken to pieces just for the fun of it didn’t sit well with him.

He still didn’t know why he decided to agree to Anya’s proposition, what in the broken thing he found in the dungeons made him turn his whole existence upside down and play along, but here he was, counting time with the strength of a stranger’s breaths.

Tired of the next day, filled with walking the four walls of the small chamber where Anya allowed him to take her captive, Cath contemplated the fragile thing on the bed, wondering if there was a time the demon walked tall and proud, just like his fellow demons did – like they owned a world that didn’t belong to him.

Five weeks passed since Cath convinced the queen to release the captured demon from his cell. Five weeks in which he had no idea what to do next, downing it all to make the demon strong enough to be actually joined. Which was absurd of course, yet Cath had no other option but to cling to the merest hope that in losing his honor he will be rewarded with the secret of his brother’s location. Belar would kill him if he knew, but Belar was long lost and without him, Cath felt as if he was falling down a spiral abyss with no way or hope to get out. He needed his brother’s guidance and cold calculation; he needed his best friend and his mentor. Having to live alone for so long, to hide like some actual ghost in the mountains was not a way to live. He had already lost so much, that to sacrifice a bit more could not mean a thing, the euphyr’s life, and free will did not matter. 

Yet, sometimes Cath found himself lingering his gaze at the male for too long, eyes observing and memorizing each and every feature of the unfamiliar face. It was easy to forget what this male represented for him. He seemed so fragile and vulnerable, his bruises and slowly healing scars painting a picture of horror and desperation all over his beautiful face, making Cath’s heartache for him without even knowing him. That male was denied solace for so long, it was a miracle he was even able to open his eyes. How could it matter if this was a f*****g enemy or not? 

Yet, the demon did open his eyes. Once, twice, he came to consciousness, his hazy dark blue eyes confused and scared, they reminded Cath of a trapped deer who knew the only way out was death itself. 

Cath hated himself for caring. He had a damn plan and he was here to take it to the end, playing dumb and desperate in front of the queen and her minions until he learned what he needed. It was not his job to save lost demons, and certainly not his job to wonder if once fully healed the male would look exactly as spectacular as Cath imagined. No, the plan hadn’t changed – Cath was here for his brother’s location. Just the means to get it was different now.

He entered the room with the next portion of root soup, one he learned how to prepare from his betrothed bride a long time ago when peace still existed. The small room was cold and dark as always, the single candle on the nightstand long wasted. It was so quiet here and the male on the bed seemed so withered even with his body slowly recovering from the horrors he must’ve endured. For a second Cath was surprised to find him with his eyes wide open and staring in the darkness as if he was seeing something there. 

Cath closed the door careful the guards in front not to notice the captive was actually awake.  Barely blind in the full darkness that engulfed him, he had to rely on his memories of the place to find his way to the nightstand and take a new candle out of the drawer. When he lit it, the flickering light danced on the naked walls, illuminating the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. A suppressed sigh escaped the lips of his patient, but the male did not turn his gaze to Cath. 

Cath left the bowl of food on the nightstand and gave himself a second to observe the view in front of him, his arms crossed at his chest.

At least he could admit to himself he was curious. Even before the Lightbringer lead his people out of the underworld, the tales had it that it was not rare for the demons of the euphyr tribe, which was the only demon tribe to exist for thousands of years, to turn against their own. They were a vicious brood, and they always fought among themselves, ready to betray each other at any given possibility.

Yet now, in this damn tower and everywhere else, things were significantly different. No matter how Anya held them together, the euphyrs seemed to worship the ground she walked on, yet she was neither the prettiest nor the strongest among them. And they all appeared united in their hatred towards the tortured euphyr. None of them, starting from their queen and going to the lowest servant, did dare speak his name or looked straight at him. They all refused to heal him, hells they didn’t even want to transfer him themselves from the cell to this ugly room – Cath was the one forced to do it.

“If you want to play the hero,” the queen had said with spite, “be my guest, but don’t expect any help or mercy from me. And don’t be fooled, this one is not a martyr.”

So, still chained in the ironclads, Cath had taken the light bony body in his arms, careful not to bring any contact between the bruised skin and the iron, and had brought him to this new prison. Since then, Cath was allowed some limited freedom and access to the kitchens and back to the chamber next to this one, where he was supposed to rest and live some mere resemblance of life until his patient got strong enough. He was not a captive after all, or so the queen claimed, yet she had made it quite clear what fate awaited him in the event of his failure or escape. 

“You should eat something” Cath whispered after a while, drawing the male’s attention on himself. “I know you people eat mainly meat, but this is not that bad too.”

The empty dark blue eyes flickered with some recognition, but no actual response followed. Yet the male allowed Cath to feed him, somehow finally he had understood that Cath didn’t actually try to poison him, or he had just come to peace with the idea. Whatever the reason, he accepted the porridge, and when he was done, his head dropped back on the narrow pillow, fiery red hair clinging to his temples as a second skin.

“Why are you doing this?” the demon asked after some time had passed, barely breaking the silence with his low whisper-like voice. He was speaking the kabirian tongue with almost pure perfection, making the hairs on Cath’s neck stand with displease.

“They hold someone important to me” Cath whispered in response, his own voice sounding foreign to him. “Why are you?”

“The same…”

The demon did not say anything else that night and Cath and he just stood there in silence for most of the time. 

When it was late enough, Cath finally stood up from his chair ready to leave for the night, suddenly feeling tired - of the day, of life, of hating himself for what he was doing, yet unable to look away. 

“I can’t escape” the red-haired male suddenly said, his eyes still staring in the empty space in front of him.

Cath, who was almost at the door about to note the guards to let him out, slowly turned around and looked at him cautiously. 

“Some time ago you said I needed my strength to escape. I will not do it.”

For a second time today, Cath felt his heart sink in his chest. Not that he actually cared, he didn’t even remember when he said that, but to hear this male, this Red, deny his own right to survive, was something that just did not sit right with him. Cath himself had no idea what exactly he was about to do if they were actually to be joined, yet somewhere deep inside he imagined them both fleeing this place one way or the other. He didn’t even know when or why this idea came to him, but now he was suddenly mad at the male on the bed.

“So, what?” Cath spat the words, barely containing his anger. “You survived for so long, just to go back there? What is it with you people? Do you somehow like what was going on down there?”

Red finally looked at him, a single strand of hair falling on his forehead when he turned his head towards Cath. For a second all Cath could do was look at this soft curl, at the way it contrasted with the porcelain white of his skin and the barely visible blue veins beneath it.

“You don’t know what you are saying.” The demon uttered exhaustedly, making Cath’s conscience bring another portion of guilt. “I just want to be left alone. Just let me die, that is all I ask of you.”

“No” Cath couldn’t believe the firmness of his own voice. “No, I won’t let you die. Do you know how many people prayed for your chance? To survive, to… to find a way out…”

“Death is my only way out, I don’t expect you to understand”

Cath made a step towards him, then another one, shaking internally with anger, yet unable to find the reason for it.

“You think I don’t?” he spat the words in Red’s face, barely registering how close he was now to the other male’s face. “Every breath I take reminds me it should be me – the one whose bones are scattered on the battlefields. Every damn day…” Cath’s voice suddenly broke, seeing the stubborn desperation in Red’s face and feeling his own wounds reopen in this damn dim-lit room, where he was forced to spend his days with one of his mortal enemies. 

Cath had lived for so long, carrying the old guilt as a second skin, he didn’t even remember what it was like to be free of its burden. He was a broken thing, his last hope to find the remains of his shattered past were the only thing keeping him together. How could he join his shattered soul with another one as damaged as his? And how, knowing what it was to be forced to survive against your own will, your choice is taken from you, could he carve the secrets out of this stubborn red-haired male? Right now, at this moment he knew his answer – he wouldn’t do it.