Chapter Four

The old woman tenderly rubbed the salve onto the pinkish skin of the young man’s shoulders. It was no longer as raw as it had been thanks to the salve that had mysteriously appeared within minutes of his stumbling into the caverns, half-starved, burned by the sun. “There, my child,” she said. “You’re almost fully healed now.” She uncoiled his hair from the top of his head and let it fall down his back.

Shalyer reached back and covered her wrinkled hand with his smooth one. “Thank you, Mama.” His long, elegant fingers moved to toy with shadow-black hair, which hung down to his waist.

A soft moan escaped Ana, his mother, as she forced her sore joints to move. Quickly he leapt to his feet to help her. He towered above her, this hauntingly beautiful son of hers who looked nothing like her, except for his mouth; he had Ana’s mouth: full, soft, aching to be kissed. He was as tall as a full-grown man even though she’d only had him a mere nine years ago when she had been a young woman of twenty-five. But in those nine years, Ana had aged; she no longer resembled a young mother, more a wrinkled crone.

His brow wrinkled over his colourless eyes. “Rest, Mama. You do too much.”

She smiled fondly up at him and allowed him to carry her to her bed.

He sat with her, listened to the ramblings he now knew by heart. She spoke, yet again, of her time as the queen’s maid... of how she’d been the king’s comfort when his wife had become more immersed in her pregnancy; of how she’d been banished for attacking the queen, and of how the king, Edmon, had come to her later, swearing his love for her and vowing never to leave her side. Yet, he’d abandoned her, this man she swore was Shalyer’s father.

He waited until her voice faded, until her eyes slid shut. Only then did he make his way to his stone seat in another part of the cavern.

For as long as he could remember he’d had his reservations about the identity of his father, that he was the king of the southern realm. He’d kept his suspicions to himself just as he’d refrained from sharing his dreams with his mother; the strange, incomprehensible dreams he’d had for as long as he could remember. Dreams which made clear to him that he was more than merely mortal, which explained his rapid growth to adulthood... dreams which showed him the way he could obtain powers that mortals were no longer permitted to have. The dreams had stopped when he’d left to begin his three years in the wilderness. And now they’d started again.

The small, red, serpent-shaped scar on his forehead began to throb. He frowned, absently fingering it. He experienced a growing awareness of the presence of another. A being so powerful his body resonated in response.

A tall, hooded figure glided into the cavern and stood expectantly. The hood fell back seemingly of its own volition, revealing a skeletal face, framed with luxurious, flowing white hair. Thin lips stretched in a parody of a grin.

The young man slowly got to his feet, eyes fixed on the figure. He could feel the power emanating from... Yes, he was sure of it. From his... “Father.”

“Shalyer. You are all I expected. And more.”

“You are my father?”

“I am Bagrath, an immortal, a demon lord– No, son, do not be afraid, there is nothing to fear. You have nothing to fear for you have faced the Cardinal Demon Lord, and come away with your life and more besides. I ask you now, do your dreams make sense?”

“That... that was all your doing?”

He nodded. “That was the only way I could communicate with you and keep you safe. Once I had impregnated the mortal, I could no longer remain with her.”

Shalyer’s eyes narrowed. “But she told me my father was–”

“I came to her in the guise of the man she loved. If I had appeared in my own form, I doubt she would have come to me willingly.”

“I don’t understand...”

“Most of what she told you was true. She was the queen’s maid, she did love the king who returned her love, I suppose. Mortal love is such an untidy affair. She attacked the queen in an envious rage and was banished for her troubles. And then the final blow, her people turned their backs on her. All this left her vulnerable and ready for her to come to me willingly. Continuing her fantasy of love made it all the more delicious for me.”

Bagrath walked up to his son and gripped his shoulders. “And I was well rewarded. I have my champion. You will strike against Belosh, and right the wrong that I have suffered.”

Shalyer stumbled back. “You want me...” He struggled to draw breath. “You want me to fight the lord of all demons?”

“And bring him to his knees! The humiliations I have endured.” Veins strained like bruises throbbing against his pallid skin. “For aeons, I have been at his side, served him selflessly. Yet it is those whose only talent is to please Belosh that gets rewarded, it seems. I am still expected to serve him yet I am always pushed aside.”

Bagrath fixed Shalyer with a fiery stare. “I have risked much with you, my son. The only way I could shield my plans from Belosh was to use a mortal to father a child. And now I have my perfect tool.”

His eyes widened before his brow furrowed. Picking at his lips, he said, “I have spent many silent hours wondering about my real father. I knew, somehow, I knew that my father was not the one my mother spoke of. And now, I find that all I am to you is a... a tool?”

With one step Bagrath was by his side once more. “No! No. You cannot imagine how difficult it has been, forcing myself to deny your existence, keeping myself from you. When all I wanted was to have you by my side, teach you all that I know, show you so much. It is a rare thing, for a demon lord to father a child. But we can still have that time, you and I, when you have fulfilled this task I set before you. Your reward will be power beyond your dreams. You will rule this land for eternity.” Slowly, purposefully, Bagrath turned away. “But the choice is yours, Shalyer. I will not... I cannot force you to do this.”

The young man remained where he was, staring at the imposing figure that was his father. There were still too many questions that needed answering. “Why was a mortal so important to your plan? Your kind already has the power, why not use one of them?”

Bagrath remained staring into space as if he had not heard the question. When he did speak, his voice was low, void of emotion. “Once, such power was not solely for the immortals. The mortal priest class was blessed with the knowledge of magic. People mainly worshipped the gods, pleasing them. Then it changed and became something rotten. At first, we, the demon lords, were pleased for the sinful ways fed us. Then the priests started to believe they were equal to immortals, gods and demons alike. They gathered together to combine their magic to force open a pathway to the gods. We realised their success would destroy us all. We helped the gods thwart them and turned their magic against them. The land was torn apart... many perished.

“Yet there were still those who believed the gods would not abandon them; they were spared. We agreed – gods and demons in agreement – that no more would mortals be allowed the knowledge of magic, and we stripped them of it. Your mother’s mortality kept you hidden from the demon lords – that was vital to my plan, and my immortal blood ensured you would gain magic.”

Shalyer held his silence, digesting the information his father fed him. He had always believed that he’d been destined for more than simply sitting around this network of caverns, keeping his mother company. His mother... a kernel of an idea began to form. With the power his father promised him he could avenge the harsh treatment she’d suffered. He could make the king, this Edmon, crawl before her and beg her forgiveness. And that would be only the beginning. A small smile played on his lips. “Father...”

Bagrath turned as Shalyer began to nod. He returned his son’s smile. “I knew you would not disappoint me–” His expression changed as he hissed in anger.

Shalyer stared at the sight of Ana, walking straight and tall towards them.

She spoke, but the voice was not hers: deep and guttural, it sounded obscene coming from the mouth of a frail old woman. “Bagrath...” The acknowledgement slithered across to him with a hint of mockery encircling it. “Did you honestly believe you could conceal your plans from me?”

“Belosh,” he growled.

“Mama?” whispered Shalyer.

‘She’ turned to him. “I will deal with you momentarily–”

“You cannot touch him,” said Bagrath. “By granting him his boon, you have bound yourself by your own actions.”

The possessed woman roared in anger, her outstretched hands glowing with power.

Caught unawares, Bagrath stumbled back. His hands came up to defend himself... too late. Eyes bulging, mouth agape, he clawed desperately at the air around his neck even as his medallion glowed brightly; Belosh’s mocking laughter filled the cavern.

Shalyer’s breath rasped out of him as his father’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his frantic movements slowed. Without thinking, he thrust his hand out. Coiling energy around his fist, he flung it at Ana’s figure.

In that same instant, Belosh’s laughter faded. Ana slumped forward, her body no longer held erect by the brutal power of a demon lord. Blinking rapidly, her gaze found her son as her mortal body bore the full brunt of his magic-fuelled attack. She shook uncontrollably; her mouth hung open in a silent scream as threads of smoke crept off her body.

Shalyer screamed as she fell dead, sightless eyes still fixed on him.

“No! No... what have I done? Father? Father, please help me...” But Bagrath lay as lifeless as Ana. Shalyer collapsed to his knees, his sobs echoing around him.