Chapter 4: Battle
1354 Words
The veil disgorged me at the edge of the city, somewhere in the Twenty Ninth Plane. It had been a long time since I was down so low, almost five decades. When I'd chosen to abandon my natural placement granted by my birthright in favor of fighting my way up the ranks and claiming my own status, I'd begun here, on the lowest level of Ostrogotho.
Scandalous, but not unheard of. Enough to catch the attention of a certain Ruler I discovered later. And cause no end of embarrassment to my parents, though I had thought once I started winning their irritation would fade to pride.
Such wishful thinking. Nothing made them happy.
The doorway to a nectar dive beckoned and I entered, feeling a thrill of recollection. I'd been here before. I fought some of my earlier battles in its dark and stinking bowels, underground one level and out of sight of the Guard patrols. As I strode down the steps to the main bar, every head in the place turned toward me.
Attention I'd take. Especially this kind, where the watchers welcomed me with open arms and excitement, thudding me on the back, shoving nectar into my hands to gulp, shouting in anticipation.
They knew my name. Sassafras was whispered at first, then spoken until they were chanting it, as though I were their Ruler. Their God.
When the challengers came at me, I barely had to lift my hand, draining another cup of nectar as I took out three together, their measly power filling me up nonetheless. I don't think they intended to attack at once, only doing so in their eagerness to challenge a legend, but they started a trend that went on for quite some time.
I found myself, at last, sprawled in a chair, glaring at the last of the fallen with slitted eyes as my four opponents were dragged away, groaning, while the rest of the demons hovered behind me, keeping my cup full and basking in my brilliance.
It should have been enough. Always was before. But tonight, no. Not tonight. Even the fighting felt empty. The battles, the adoration, shallow and dull. I threw aside my cup of nectar, a wave of absolute despair and loss falling over me as I covered my face in my hands and fought a sob.
No, it wasn't fair. The last thing I had to make me feel truly alive, gone. Useless to me.
What else was there?
"Lord Sassafras." I dropped my hands, suddenly weary, focused on the demon before me. He was slim, horns barely nubs, fresh-faced and smiling. Was I ever so young, so full of life? I couldn't imagine it. "I challenge you."
The crowd surged toward him, calls of expulsion, as though he wasn't worthy to fight me. But I staggered to my feet, my power lashing out at them, keeping them back as I faced who I could have been. He might have been young, but he felt powerful enough, though I was sure he'd begun his life at a low rank. How far had he climbed?
"Raneen," he said. "Twentieth Plane."
"Where did you start?" I'm not sure why I needed to know.
"One Hundred and Twenty Four," he said with a cocky grin I liked immediately, even as my stomach clenched against liking anyone.
The crowd seemed impressed. But they hadn't seen anything yet. As I fought the desire to pull the boy Raneen into a chair next to me and tell him why this path he traveled was the worst possible choice for someone who seemed to adore life, my anger rose. How dare he challenge me? I'd destroy him for even thinking about it.
I could hear them placing bets as I stood and stepped forward, swaying slightly as the nectar I'd drunk pushed me off balance. "Accepted," I snarled as I reached out with my power and crushed him into the ground.
Tried to. He dodged with such agility I was left gaping, spinning like a small dervish, a pulse of power sliding across the floor in a thin sheet, under my feet before I could move. Raneen, a huge grin on his face, jerked both hands back, pulling the rug of power out from under me.
Sending me to the filthy stones. I stared up at the dark ceiling, head aching where it struck rock, a moment of absolute shock holding me in place. They stared down at me, my adoring fans, with their own startled expressions.
This would not do. Not while my former supporters turned from me and toward Raneen, grins on their faces. I surged to my feet, a roar on my lips, energy burning away the last trace of nectar from my system as absolute rage took over.
The kid was already acting to counter me, a slice of power cutting through the edge of my shielding. Instead of being on the offensive as I usually found myself, I was forced to backpedal, to go on the defensive as whip after rapid whip of magic shredded my wards and, for the second time, cut my feet out from under me.
Impossible. No way could this child defeat me. As Raneen came to hover over me, his smile still in place, he held out one hand. "It is an honor," he said. "You are my hero, Lord Sassafras. Taking a portion of your power is the greatest dream I've ever had."
I'd lost? His power reached for mine, tearing at the quarter of my strength he was due for the defeat, trying to make me less, to sever me from the last thing I had.
No. Never. Primal power surged inside me, following the boy's deep inside him, found and locked onto the core of his magic even as I leaped to my feet, hands around his thin neck, and jerked his power from him.
His amber eyes flew wide, a sigh of loss leaving his mouth as he sagged in my grip. I didn't care, not anymore, not while the hunger inside me grew to towering heights as I devoured who he was, tipping my head back to roar my triumph to every demon in hearing before discarding him to the side and turning on those who stared at me in terror.
More. More! I reached for them, grasped their magic, and began to strip them, too, to fill myself up with the power of others. I'd never felt so full of life, so very alive as I did in that moment when the essence of Raneen woke the real demon inside me.
This is what I'd craved for so long! What I was meant to be. More strength than I'd ever known surged in my blood, the cries of my victims musical, as powerful as their magic when I pulled them in to me.
Only to have the contact snap, recoil. Groaning demons fled from me, six Guards thundering down the stairs to surround me, while my father broke through their circle. I panted, reaching for his power, too, for the Guards, but I was cut off. A groan escaped me, the need so powerful still I was certain I would die without more magic to sustain my growth.
"Let me out." Was that my voice, a grating sound of fury and need?
"My son," Father said as the Guards grasped me, chains of magicked stone binding my wrists and ankles, cutting me off from my power, "what have you done?"
"This is your doing!" I couldn't contain my shrieking accusation as the Guards dragged me toward the stairs, bubble of the last of my decorum. Unable to battle with my power, I kicked and punched and writhed to be free, only to have a fist impact my face, knock me half out of consciousness. But I stayed awake, aware enough I fixed Father with a glare of rage. "I hate you," I hissed. "All of you. You created me. My downfall is your fault."
He just stood there, false sadness on his face as the Guards finally dragged me away.
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- Writer
