Feature Writer: SilentCaldera
Feature Title: DEMONBORN 1
Published: 21.06.2023
Story Codes: Demonic
Synopsis: Sebastian discovers the shocking truth about his Father.
Author’s Notes: First a real quick preamble. First, this story contains no sex scenes. It’s mostly setup for later installments. Later ones will have sex, or will at least contain scenes with intimacy which heavily imply that the characters have had sex. I haven’t fully decided yet. Also, this chapter is going to be an emotional gut punch, at least that’s the goal. If that bothers you, you have been warned.
Demonborn 1
Home is Where the Heartache is
I lived on a small farmstead with my parents, just on the outskirts of the village. It wasn’t anything special, but it was home.
I came home around mid-morning, after checking my traps. I set my pack near the door, and found Mother in bed. She had been ill for almost a week. In that time, she had been growing gradually weaker.
Her voice was a no more than a whisper. “Sebastian, why are you home so early? Did your hunt not go well?”
“The traps were empty. Game keeps getting scarcer. I may need to start ranging further out if we are to survive.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine. No matter what happens, we’re still family. I believe in you and Thomas.”
Thomas was my father. A small, wiry man, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a face that seemed to hold a permanent scowl. I could never shake the feeling that he didn’t like me, but I couldn’t see why. I would ask Mother, but I couldn’t get a direct answer. I wasn’t disrespectful or lazy. I just couldn’t figure it out.
Mother had another coughing fit. They were getting worse. Recently, I started seeing blood on her sleeves, and handkerchiefs, despite her best efforts to hide it. I quickly brought her a cup of water. I tried to pretend not to notice, but I decided that I couldn’t just let it go today.
“Mother, how long have you been coughing blood?”
“Hmm? What are you talking about Sebastian?”
“Mother, please don’t lie to me. Cecilia has been washing your handkerchiefs. I’ve seen the blood. I just want to know how bad it’s gotten.”
“You know, she’s a lovely girl. I know her parents approve of you.”
Cecilia was the butcher’s daughter, and my dearest friend since I was nine. I had given it thought, but the blight had pushed such thoughts out of my mind. Perhaps I should ask sooner rather than later. With her blue eyes, chestnut locks, and rounded features, it would surprise no one if she were married off to some merchant’s son.
But I would not be distracted from my question. “Mother, please.”
She turned her head away. “A few days now. Its been getting worse.”
“You’re not going to get better, are you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” The words hit me in the gut. Until this past week, I hadn’t even conceived of a world without Mother. Now the realization was undeniable.
“Listen, Sebastian. Brie, the butcher’s wife, was over here, and I had her write my final instructions in a letter. I asked her to keep it until I… until I die.”
“Mother…”
“Shh. Please let me finish. I don’t have much time I have left. I want you to take care of everything. Your father has enough troubles without adding me to them.”
The crops had been blighted this year. We barely had enough to pay the taxes, much less enough to live on. I had been hunting and trapping for months, but there never seemed to be enough. Despite the deprivation, I was 19, so well past my prime growing years. I was a solid six foot one. Prior to this year, I was built like a tree, but since the blight, I looked more like a stick. My green eyes were framed by slightly sunken features, and the dark brown hair I had inherited from Mother was starting to thin a bit.
Another coughing fit from Mother broke me out of my reverie. She had stopped trying to hide the blood. I couldn’t help but wonder if she even had that much blood left in her veins. She was starting lose color, and her eyes looked dead.
“Mother? Mother?!”
“I’m still here Sebastian. I’m still here.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“Listen, I know this is hard. It’s going to get harder. Just know that I love you more than life itself. Please, live well for me, my dearest boy.”
“Mother? Mother?! Mother?!!”
A Grave Matter
Cecilia found me weeping by Mother’s bed. She had her mother in tow. Ever since Mother had gotten sick, Cecilia’s mother, Brie, would come visit and help Cecilia with the house and keep Mother company. I heard Brie cry out in pain, though it didn’t register at the time. Cecilia rushed to me and held on like I was going to fly away.
Mother wanted her grave to be on top of the hill a few miles from our house. I started digging her grave myself. I stabbed the shovel into the ground, again and again. Father didn’t seem interested and that meant that the responsibility fell to me. A few of the townsfolk came to offer their sympathies. One man was less than welcome in my book.
Father Augustine resembled a man, but under the skin lay a snake. He was portly, with long, thin gray hair, and eyes that contained the avarice of a demon. He was the only man in the village who got fatter during the blight. It was like the man had made it his mission to make my life as miserable as possible. He always seemed to come up with the worst things to say. When I caught my first rabbit, he opined on the reasons why eating meat would lead to moral degradation. When I failed to catch anything, he would ask me how my family would survive without meat. He would also leer at Mother whenever Father wasn’t looking. I could see in her face that she hated it, but whenever I brought it up, she would tell me to pretend like I hadn’t seen it. Now that Mother was no longer here, I was sure that I would end up killing him. Many’s the time I wished I could strangle him with his own belt.
Father Augustine licked his chops as he began to speak. “Good evening, Sebastian. Such a shame about your mother. She was always such a pious woman.”
“Yes, she was, Father Augustine. What can I do for you?”
“Oh no, I should be asking that. I came to offer a sermon for the sake of your dead mother.”
Just looking at his face fuels my hatred. Why couldn’t he be the one to die in her place. “There is no need. I will give her eulogy, and then bury her.”
“Well, if you’re sure. Such a shame though. I’m sure your mother would have appreciated one last sermon.”
“Perhaps, but I swore to her that I would take care of this.”
I should have told him that he could take his sermons and his false sympathies and shove them down his throat. He was right about one thing. Mother was a very pious woman, ever since I could remember, she never missed a sermon. Sometimes I would ask her why, but all she would ever say was that “we all need God’s forgiveness.”
The cleric turned to speak with some of the townsfolk who were arriving to pay their respects. Cecilia and her family were among them. Her mother was distraught. She and Mother had become very close after her son died. Cecilia’s father was holding his wife while she wept. A good man to be sure. On the rare occasion that I had game to sell, he would insist on paying full price for it. Cecilia was at her mother’s side, doing her best to comfort her. Mother was right about her. In these parts, where tragedy could strike without warning, that kind of character was more valuable than gold.
Cecilia broke off from the rest of the her family to talk to me. “Seb, I’m so sorry. It’s hard to believe that she’s gone.”
All I could do was nod. I was about to speak, but the words got caught in my throat.
She embraced me tightly as tears flowed from my eyes. “If you ever need to talk, don’t hesitate to come to me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to burden you with my grief.”
“Don’t say such things. What purpose do friends serve, if not to share the weight of our grief.”
I nodded. Mother always said that. She always made the effort to offer her time to those around her, to her own detriment sometimes. When Cecilia’s mother lost her infant son, it was Mother who spent hours of her day consoling her. She even made food to take for their family.
“He’s right, you know. A boy’s grief can lead himself and those around them to terrible deeds. Lest we forget that the first necromancer was found raising his own sister from her grave.”
Cecilia glared at Father Augustine. “A boy doesn’t take it upon himself to bury his mother. Only a man can do that. And isn’t written that we of the faith should take it upon ourselves to console the aggrieved? If I recall correctly, the boy in that story was all alone and shunned by his village, long before he tried to raise the only other person who loved him!”
Father Augustine looked shocked, but quickly rebounded. “Of course you are correct Cecilia. Sebastian is now a man, free to make any mistakes he may.” With that, the cleric walked away. Maybe this time he would stay away for good.
Cecilia took my face in her hands and turned me to face her. “Don’t listen to him. He is only bitter because his own mother left him on the churches doorstep.”
The church managed most of the orphanages. Many orphans would be inducted into the clergy or the paladins. It certainly was possible that Father Augustine was one such orphan, though I found it hard to believe that he would be such a menace if he was. More likely he was some nobleman’s son, not in line for inheritance, and so relegated to the church or some other pursuit.
She spoke, drawing me out of my mind. “Now, I need to go back to my parents. I’ll come visit you tomorrow.”
I nodded again, and went back to digging. A few of the men tried to help me, but I waved them off. This my responsibility, and I would do it myself. The grave was finished a short time later. I gave my eulogy, somehow managing to remain composed with tears in my eyes. Father was there, and yet not. I would glance at him occasionally, but he never showed the slightest interest in me. He would glance at the grave, the coffin, even Father Augustine, but never me.
I lowered Mother’s coffin in the grave. Some of the townsfolk came to offer a prayer and throw a handful of dirt on the coffin. The butcher and his wife came forward to do the same, while Cecilia came over to me and gave me a handful of dirt to throw. The rest of the townsfolk came and went. I spent the rest of the evening filling the grave.
Midnight Revelations
Mother can finally rest. It must be midnight by now, though no one can be sure, since tonight is the new moon. I fell upon my bed, caked in dirt. Mother would be furious that I was in bed in such a state, but I was too tired and defeated to wash in the river. I should sleep first, and perhaps, the world will be better in the morning. I welcomed sleep in the hopes that unconsciousness would relieve my pain, though it was not to be.
My dreams are fraught with peril. I saw my father, and that damn cleric, conspiring to kill me. I woke up in a cold sweat. Of course it’s absurd, my father wouldn’t kill me, would he? Surely not, but something was pulling me out of my bed. I must know. I slowly opened my door, and crept through the house. Surely I’m merely sleep deprived, and am not thinking clearly. I can see a dim light coming from the woodshed. I can hear hushed voices from inside the shed. I think it’s Father’s and I can hear that cleric.
I heard Father shout in anger. “I knew he wasn’t mine! I don’t know how, but I could sense it. How long have you known?!”
The cleric spoke in a measured voice, trying to avoid drawing Father’s wrath. “Gretchen confessed to me the day after she said it happened. She was absolutely terrified of what might become of her and the child.”
“And you waited this long to tell me?”
“It was confession. If it came out that I revealed words spoken to me in divine confidence, I could be severely punished.”
This seemed to placate Father. “Was this the urgent matter you wished to bring to me?”
“No, but it’s related. Do you know who she adulterated with?”
“No, some traveling merchant I suspect.”
“Not quite. I couldn’t confirm this, but I have every reason to suspect that she cavorted with a demon.”
“What?! How do you know this?!”
“I performed a blessing on her after her confession. It is well established that demons will bind human women to them. A practice to ward off other demons most likely. I felt resistance, like pushing through heavy curtains. It is a sign that the church has known of for many centuries. I can’t be sure without testing the boy, but the bastard has never given me the chance.”
“So my wife’s son is not only not mine, but he’s also some damned demon-spawn?!”
“I’m sorry that I had to hide this. While Gretchen was alive, the death of her only son would surely break her.”
“It would serve the whore right. To think she’d kept this from me from me for this long.”
“Regardless, we now have to deal with this situation, and quickly. The boy is distracted, distraught. Now is the perfect time to strike him down.”
There was a moment where neither man spoke. I scarcely breathed, paralyzed by both fear of discovery, and the shock from what was said.
Father seemed to collect himself. “How should we do it? I have an axe, but not much else.”
“That will do fine, though I must be present. The only way to guarantee the demon is exorcised is to smite him with holy fire.”
“Very well, then let’s be done with it.”
I crept away from the door. A moment later the shed door opened, revealing the two men, bathed and lantern light. They walked back to the house, dousing the lantern as they went. I have to get out of here. I waited until they were inside the house, and I broke off into a run. I had to run.
On The Run
I ran all through the night. I can’t afford to stop, despite my body protesting the unexpected exercise. My muscles burn from the strain, but I must keep going. Father and that cleric could be hot on my heels. They might have even rented horses, and borrowed the smith’s dog to find me.
I ran until dawn, hoping that the darkness of the new moon would cloak my escape. For a short while, I knew the ground, but soon, I started to lose my sense of location. I would stumble over the uneven ground, or trip on a root or bush. Eventually, I ran headlong into a stream, and decided to rest a while. My short rest turned to slumber.
I awoke refreshed, and the sun was high in the sky. I must have slept at least four hours. I drank deeply from the stream and took stock of my situation. I was in the wilderness, unsure of where I was, no food, or supplies. On the other hand, this stream had to lead somewhere, and I knew the general direction I started off in. I knew of this stream, I once saw it on a map the Huntmaster showed me, but I had never reached it before.
I had a moment to think about my course. I couldn’t go home. My father, no, my step-father and Father Augustine will kill me if I return. I still couldn’t believe Mother would have cavorted with a demon. I suppose that’s what she meant when she said that everyone needed God’s forgiveness.
So, if I can’t go home, what should I do? For now I can still forage and trap, but that won’t work forever. What do demons do, other than sire bastard sons? The church said that demons existed to test our faith, but if Father Augustine was any indication, taking their advice would be a quick way to the afterlife, or hell. They say that witches make pacts with demons in order to gain their powers. Or a wizard perhaps? A wizard might also know something about them. I think there was a village on the map a few miles downstream. I should begin my search there.
With my mind made up, I set off downstream. The hours of sleep made all of the difference in the world for my speed. I jogged beside the stream, watching as small animals disappeared into the tall grasses that lined the edges. By mid afternoon, I reached a small village. I saw a man drawing water from the stream and hailed him.
“Good afternoon sir. Have you seen any mages in the area recently?”
The man shook his head, and continued with his work.
“Then perhaps a healer, or an apothecary?” I added, with the faint hope that such a person might lead me to my goal.
“There’s an apothecary over the hill.” And he motioned to the hill that the stream wrapped around.
I thanked the man and took off. He grunted and continued drawing water.
The Witch
I ran up and over the hill, so that by the time I was on the other side, I was out of breath. A small, house was nestled right into the hill beside the river. I walked to the door, trying to catch my breath before knocking on the door.
A feminine, sing-song voice came from behind the door, “Who is it?”
“My name is Sebastian. May I speak with you? It is an urgent matter.”
The door opened and a woman stepped out from behind it. She must have been about thirty, with deep, luscious burgundy hair, and blue eyes. She stood a head and a half shorter than me, and was very well proportioned. I must have stood there staring, because she spoke a moment later in a melodious voice.
“Why don’t you come in, and you can tell me about this urgent matter.”
I walked in and she motioned for me to sit down.
“I need to find a witch.” I blurted out.
The woman laughed, “Whatever do you need to find a witch for?”
“I need to learn about demons.”
The woman’s eyes widened, “Well that is certainly an unusual request. Why would you want to learn about demons? Are you trying to become a demon hunter?”
“My reasons are my own.”
She smiled “Of course. Well I may know of one.”
“Please tell me. I need to find a witch.”
“Well I suppose it’s fate that you found me.”
“You are a witch?”
The witch smiled, “Naturally”
“Then why…?”
“Witches aren’t exactly treated with kindness in these parts. I thought it better to conceal my nature. Brewing potions and medicines is a passion of mine, and it guarantees that the villagers protect me should the church look a little too closely.”
I nodded. It was sound reasoning. “So can you help me?”
“Of course I can. I’m not quite as young as I look. I’ve learned much of my patron’s species in my time. Now, let’s discuss my payment.”
“I don’t have any money.”
She looked annoyed, but then smiled, “Very well then, I’ll have to have you compensate me some other way.”
I took a deep breath. “Name your price.”
“There are some ingredients that I am in need of, which you have just graciously offered to find for me. I’ll write up a list, and you can go find them.”
The witch spent a few minutes taking inventory. “So, this is a list of what I need. It’s all within a few miles of here. Do you know what each of these ingredients are?”
“I think so. I’ve spent a bit of time in the forests surrounding my home.”
“Good. Then make haste.”
I was practically shoved out the door with a list the ingredients she wanted. “Now hurry back. I’ll tell you what I know once you do.” She called out to me as I was leaving. I made my way through the countryside, looking high and low for the ingredients she wanted.
The first was a small flower that she said grew amongst the grass. It had small yellow petals and grew in small clusters. They where easy enough to find, since the yellow stood out from the rest of the green and brown colored plants. The second were some mushrooms, black and brown in color, they grew on the forest floor, and took me hours to locate. It was poisonous in nature, and so she recommended that I avoid touching them. I used a couple sticks to place them into the bag. The last was a plant, whose fronds where used in medicine. It was difficult, but I eventually found everything the witch wanted.
By the time I made my way back to the witches cottage, it was dark. I knocked on her door.
The witch answered, “Yes?”.
“It’s me, Sebastian. I’m back.”
“Oh, good, come in.”
I walked into her cottage, and closed the door behind me.
The witch called out, “Just set the ingredients on the table and come into the back.”
I did as she asked and went where I heard her voice emanate from. It was a small kitchen with a bubbling pot of stew cooking over a fire.
The witch smiled and spoke in that melodious voice of hers. “You looked to be nothing but skin and bones, so I thought we had better eat before we talk.”
I was mesmerized. I could barely remember the last time I smelled something so delicious.
“Well don’t just stand their gawking, grab some bowls and spoons from the cupboard.”
I quickly did as she asked, and we sat down to eat. I inhaled bowl after bowl of the stew, meanwhile she didn’t touch hers. She seemed fascinated with me, and watched me eat until I started to feel tired.
That was when she started asking me questions. “So how long has the church suspected that I am a witch?”
My mind was muddled. I couldn’t think straight. Yet, somehow, I answered her, without thinking. “What?”
Stood abruptly and grabbed her staff. “Don’t play the fool, it won’t do you any good. How long has the church known?”
“Don’t know. Not with the church.”
“Lying is just as fruitless. No one except demon hunters, paladins, and clerics would want to learn about demons. If you are not with the church, then you’re with the demon hunters, which is almost as bad.
“Not demon hunters.”
The witch breathes a sigh of relief, and set her staff on the table. “Then what possible business could you have with me?”
“Father was a demon. Church found out.”
“And you thought it wise to lead them here?!”
“No choice.”
The witch thought for a moment, then sighed. “Well, I would be a fool to ignore this opportunity, and I can’t have you leading them to me. I am sorry for this, but it will be much more humane than whatever the church has in store for you. Consider it a kindness.”
I lost consciousness after that.
The Demon
I woke up in a small room. My room, except everything was blurred, and gray. I reached out to touch my bedpost, but my hand passed through it like water. I went through my door, but outside of the room was nothing but a swirling void. I was instantly assaulted by every horrible memory in my life, before I darted back into the illusory bedroom.
“Quite the fright isn’t it.”, a voice broke the silence. A man with my face, and red eyes, dressed in a suit of black metal armor, and a longsword, stood before me.
“Who are you?”
“Don’t play the fool, you know who and what I am, and you must certainly know what this place is. Now what have you gotten us into?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. Again, who are you?”
“You, well part of you, though it might be a part that you never thought you had.”
“You are my demon half?”
The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Yes, I am your demon half. Your inner demon, if you will.”
“So where are we? This is my bedroom, or at least it looks like my bedroom.”
“It’s not. we are in your subconscious mind. That damnable witch drugged you, most likely that stew you ate. Now you’re here. great work.”
“How was I supposed to know? You certainly weren’t much help. What are you doing here anyway?”
“It’s not my responsibility to clean up after your mess. It’s difficult enough to appear to you like this, and don’t even bring up the dream warnings. I’ve been doing my damnedest to make sure you stay alive, and you seem to insist on trying to kill yourself.”
“Again, how was I supposed to know? In case you weren’t aware, I’m a little new to being a demon.”
“Well then let this be your first lesson: Beware of free gifts. They’re rarely gifts, and they’re never free.”
“My foolishness aside, how do we get out of this?”
The demon chuckled, “We? This is all you my friend.”
“Well since you are in my head, I imagine it’s actually our problem, unless you have some clever way of getting out of this mess.”
“And what exactly do you think I should do? Unfortunately for you, we are stuck here.”
I start to get exasperated, “Look, there has to be a way out of this. Why don’t you start by explaining what is happening.”
The demon took a seat on my bed, “Fine. Your soul is being subjugated by that witch. Soon, your power will be hers, and you will be left a mindless husk.”
“How is she going to subjugate my soul? Can I try to resist her?”
“Not unless you’ve been secretly training lately, no. You’ve already mostly given up. This is one of the last bastions in your mind. Once this goes, poof, you’re done.”
“So my subconscious is resisting?”
“Yes, we are. You and I are the last vestiges of your soul.”
I thought for a moment, until I heard crack in the wooden roof of my room.
“Ah, that’s the witch, she seems to have found this place.”
“Wait, you said I already mostly gave up. Is that because I’m unconscious?”
“Yes, why?”
“How would you subjugate someone who was already awake? It can be done, right?”
“Of course. Most demons aren’t quite so foolish as yourself. It requires you to resist the opponent with all of your might. You will be tempted to give in, to let go, let the opponent have their way of things. You’ll be shown the wonderful things that will come if you give in, and the death and destruction that comes with resistance. If you manage to keep up your active defiance, then you can resist.”
“And that’s it? I just have to refuse whatever she offers me?”
“Yes and no. Demons will often take a more active roll, trying to tempt their opponent, even when they are being tempted themselves.”
“So why don’t we do that.”
“In order to be successful, we would need to know what would tempt her, and I didn’t have the time to read her mind and learn her deepest desires, did you?”
“No, but she is connected to my mind, isn’t she? Is there must be some way to do the reverse? Can I somehow look into her mind. Maybe find what could tempt her?”
A grin appeared on the demon’s face, revealing a pair of protruding canine teeth. “You just might be able to.”
“You already knew that didn’t you.” I said flatly.
“Maybe, but it’s so much more interesting for me to see what I have to work with. Notwithstanding the earlier foolishness, I’m impressed. But know this, once you decide to do this, we won’t be able to speak again until you are free of her.”
“Why?”
“In order for you to escape and find a way into her mind, I will have to distract her.”
I nodded, “Is there anything else you need to tell me before we do this?”
“Just trust your instincts, and when you are free, find a way to perform the ritual of awakening. This witch might know it, but otherwise, you’ll need to do some research. I won’t be able to speak to you outside of this place until then.”
“Thank you. I’ll do just that.”
“Don’t lose.” and with that, he disappeared, as did my room.
A Meeting of Minds
I was alone, and exposed to the tremendous horror of the witches powers. I wanted to curl up and die, but I knew that if I did that, my fate would be far worse than death. I pushed forward and made my way through the horrible place. I pushed past horrible memories, morphed into the worst nightmare my diseased mind could conjure. I finally saw the bridge that the witch was using to take my soul. I started walking, but the bridge lengthened, and wind seemed to push against me, hampering my progress. I tried my hardest, but it seemed hopeless. I was making no progress.
No. I can’t give up now. I pushed forward again, and I put all of my might into it. Then I realized, that I didn’t need to walk, I just needed to get to the other side. I was in my mind after all. I lifted off of the ground, and forced myself through the headwinds. With that surge of power, I was able to make headway. I continued pushing, and slowly, the winds abated and I made it to the other side.
Her head was a maze of memories, closed doors, desires, and strangely, a familiar presence. She had a demon as her patron. He didn’t seem to have a strong hold on her, but it was enough that she was beholden to him for her powers. I looked around and tried to get an idea of what kind of person she was. The name Morgan popped into my head almost immediately. She was old, but had maintained her physical youth, and beauty through various rituals. She was powerful too. Even without her patron, she was a competent magic user. She only took her patron after she found that she couldn’t save her mother with her own magic. It didn’t work, which was a sticking point for her. Her mother was the only family she had, and since then, she had been alone. Memories of Mother came to me, unbidden. Once again I was assaulted by the desire to just give up. I steeled myself. Mother had told me to live well, and I wouldn’t ignore her last wish so easily.
I continued investigating her memories. Memories of her being hounded by the church, of giving aid to the poor villagers she lived with. Every memory this woman had was her alone. Sometimes someone was there, but none stayed. Even her patron was largely absent, expecting her to keep up her end of the bargain and to not bother him. A little bit of investigation showed that the past decades of her life that were tainted with the incredible sorrow that loneliness cultivated.
I knew what I had to do. I pushed out my will, what was left of it, and added my voice to the cacophony of her own voice telling her to not be alone. I planted the seed of an idea, that she would still feel alone if all she had of me was a husk. The best ideas are the ones that were already there. It turned out that she had thought of this, but decided that she would be willing to risk it. I reinforced the idea that it wouldn’t work. I gave her the idea that she would be all alone forever, if her first instinct when meeting someone was how to best to exploit them. I impressed upon her how innocent I was, how I had trusted her. Her mind was strong, but each of my mental attacks were right on target. She wasn’t an evil person, and the more she was confronted with what she was doing, the more she began to question herself. I then planted one last idea. She had to have seen that I had just lost my mother. Could she really do this to one who would be a kindred spirit.
With that, Morgan stopped what she was doing, I had to wake up before she steeled her resolve again. It didn’t take her long, but it was long enough for the potion to wear off. I was awake, though most of my soul was still scattered from the witch’s hasty retreat. I stood up clumsily and rushed over to grab her staff from the table.
She was quite shocked to see me awake so soon. “You are quite crafty, not nearly the innocent boy who walked in just a few hours ago.”
“I have a lot of learning to do it seems.”
Morgan had the remnants of tears on her face. “Was it all a lie, everything I saw?”
“You tell me.”
She wiped her face, “Well, like it or not, I can’t have you leaving here with what you know.”
With that, we returned to our mental battle. Without her staff, Morgan couldn’t fight me physically, and I couldn’t stop focusing on keeping her out of my mind and fight her at the same time. The fight came down to two opposing ideas. She attacked my will to live, saying that this could all be over, that she knew how hard my life was, that quest was a waste of time, that I should just let go. I, meanwhile, focused on the one thing that truly ate at her soul, loneliness. I could feel her slowly losing ground, and I kept up the pressure.
Morgan’s mind gave way and she collapsed on the ground in defeat. I took a moment to collect myself. I still felt a bit hollow, but the pieces of my soul that she had been ripping out, started to fit back into their vessel. I stood there, unsure of what to do next. I thought about killing her. I really did. Every time I thought about what she would’ve done to me, I felt more and more justified in killing her. And then I thought about her words. I really had no idea what the church did to people like me and her, other than just kill us.
I knelt down in front of Morgan. “You said that what you were doing was a kindness. What does the church do with witches and demons, other than kill them?”
“Questions them, tortures them, and then burns them.” She mumbled.
I knew about the burning. You hear about that sort of thing happening. I guess not having anything to do with that world made me numb to it. But torture?
“Why?”
She hung her head and wept. “Just kill me and be done with it.”
The more I thought about it, the less sure I was. Yes, she would have killed me or worse, but could I really blame her? Wouldn’t I have done the same to a stranger if he could expose my secret? I had thought to kill Father Augustine, and all he ever did was be a bastard, at least as far as I knew. No, she didn’t deserve death, but just like her, I couldn’t let her go with what she knew about me. The question then was, how do I prevent her from revealing my secret without killing her. The answer alluded me, until I thought of the presence I felt in her. The demon she had made a pact with. Without even giving a thought to how that worked, the words left my mouth.
“Give yourself to me.”
She raised her tear stained face, eyes wide. “What?”
“I said, give yourself to me!”
She bowed her head again, “I can’t, my soul is already given to another. He will not release me, and you can’t destroy him.”
I knelt down in front of her. “Morgan, I may not be able to destroy him, but I was inside your mind. I saw the demon’s hold on you, and it is tenuous at best. I may not be as powerful as he is, perhaps not even enough to break his hold on you, but I can tell you this. If this does work, I won’t abandon you. If you promise to keep our pact, you will never be alone.”
Morgan thought for a moment, then nodded.
I delved into her mind, and found the ties that bound her to the demon. The demon snarled as she and I tried to break his hold. She put everything she had and more into it. We must have spent hours like this, biting and tearing at the cords like rabid dogs. Eventually, one broke. That was followed by another, and another. Finally, the last cord broke, and Morgan screamed as the last vestiges of her demonic patron were banished from her soul. She was barely conscious, but with her final words before sleeping, she said, “I give myself to you.”
I felt a strange energy and I too fell into a deep sleep.
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE